Heartbeat Press - August 2025 Edition

So I Married an Abortionist - The Story of Haywood Robinson and Noreen Johnson, Part 1 

    In the 1993 absurdist comedy film So I Married an Axe Murderer, actor Mike Myers plays a man so desperate for love that he dates, proposes to, and marries a woman, actress Nancy Travis, all while being fully aware that the love of his life may be a notorious and elusive serial killer. Hijinks ensue, misunderstandings abound, and in the end things just might work out all right. But what happens when similar events play out in real life, free from quirky slapstick and the possibility that misunderstandings have underpinned the whole debacle? You get the story of doctors Haywood Robinson and Noreen Johnson, a married couple who doubled as proud dual abortionists in the state of Texas. Their history begins when Robinson met Johnson in residency and was impressed by her skill for ending life (though neither of them saw it as life at the time). 

    Recounted in their book, The Scalpel and the Soul, Robinson and Johnson's first meeting occurred outside of an operating room door in 1978, as Johnson asked which of her pupils was ready to preform a medical abortion for the first time. Unlike a scene from Grey's Anatomy, where our nominal hero Dr. Robinson declares unabashedly that he will not take life, causing Dr. Johnson to fall for him and his rugged convictions, Robinson was instead eager to please the pretty attending resident. While a little taken aback by the casual attitude surrounding the procedure and one resident's refusal to preform it, Robinson hardly thought twice about being inducted into a long line of murderous doctors, thinking instead that the act was an unimpressive checkmark on his studies. Had he thought twice, the date that Robinson got with Dr. Johnson soon afterwards would have distracted him - such was his infatuation with her. 

    Marrying shortly afterwards, the couple was excited to begin their practice, and neither felt any hesitation about providing abortions as a major service. In fact, as the only abortionists in their small Texas town, both Robinson and Johnson felt that they were filling a void of care. To them, abortions were no different than elective surgery, so much so that, when Johnson quickly became pregnant and felt that a child would interfere with her work, the couple thought nothing of asking a friend of preform the procedure. Fortunately, the doctor refused and nine months later Johnson and Robinson welcomed a baby girl. But, even in that moment of intended filicide, God was working on the couple, beginning with Dr. Robinson. 

    Shortly before the birth of his daughter, Robinson attended a concert for a Christian musician that he admired. Making light of the altar-call that occurred at the end of the event, Robinson recounts to his day that he hardly noticed standing up in the midst of it with a sudden prompting that he had something to get off his chest. He found himself praying along with his fellow concert-goers and afterwards felt incredibly light for a reason he couldn't put his finger on at the time. And, while he continued to preform abortions for a few months afterwards, addicted to the paycheck that came with the specialty (as he now admits), Dr. Robinson soon felt a prodding that he couldn't continue to end babies' lives. As this realization hit him, old memories also resurfaced. 

    Years before he had met Johnson, at the very beginning of his medical studies, Robinson had accidently gotten his girlfriend at the time pregnant and, as was seemingly expected of an ambition-driven and arrogant young man, Robinson suggested that she get an abortion, even offering to pay for it. In his mind, he was in no position to become a father and one mistake shouldn't infringe on his plans. He gave no thought to the personhood of his child and never considered what his girlfriend may have wanted. He didn't even bother to drive her to the abortion clinic, choosing instead to wait for news of "success" at his girlfriend's house. The relationship quickly fell apart afterwards, but even then Robinson didn't consider that his coercion was the major factor in its failure. However, in hindsight, Robinson finally made the connection, and, while he couldn't change what he had done and could only grieve for his lost son or daughter, he also definitely determined that his medical skills had to be used to make amends instead of causing further harm going forward. Joining 40 Days for Life and eventually becoming the group's director of medical affairs, Robinson has now marched outside of countless abortion clinics, including one he frequently worked within, and is now fully committed to the mission of life.     

    In early 2025, I had the privilege of meeting Dr. Robinson in person and, though I only heard him speak post-redemption, it is evident in every word the doctor speaks that his heart-change is complete and unwavering, and that he is passionate about championing the lives he would have previously ended for a paycheck. As is so often the case, those individuals with the worst pasts find the most powerful redemption and then cannot keep quiet about their transformation. Comparing his own arc with that of former Planned Parenthood director Abby Johnson, Dr. Robinson is every-grateful for his chance to begin again, a journey he shares with his beloved Noreen, though her conversion took a little longer. 

Sources: Wikipedia, The Scalpel and the Soul by doctors Haywood Robinson and Noreen Johnson, Spirit Radio 

Photo Credit: Stockcake.com 

Heartbeat Press - April 2025 Edition

 

Miracle Baby - One Family's Story of Heartbreak and Hope 

    Suzanne, Peter, and Rachel Guy have been staples at 40 Days for Life vigils, the annual March for Life in Washington D.C., and dozens of other Pro-Life events throughout the years, so much so that the family could easily be overlooked because of their frequent appearances. But the Guys are worth noting, not only because of their tireless dedication to defending life but also because, behind their smiles and softly whispered prayers, they have a story of heartache, strength, and hope that exemplifies the Pro-Life message a hundred times over. 

    That story begins in 1998, when, after marrying years before and diligently trying to conceive with no success, Suzanne and Peter were overjoyed to discover that they were expecting their very first child, a little girl whom they cherished jealously from the moment they learned of her existence. They prepared her room, sifted through names, dreamed what it would be like to be called "Mom and Dad," and eagerly anticipated Rachel's arrival, imagining what it would be like to hold her in their arms for the first time, giving her her very first hug. But all of the soon-to-be-parents' joy would turn into devastation in the blink of an eye during their twenty-two week ultrasound.

    While the appointment began normally enough, Suzanne soon began to suspect that something was wrong with Rachel when the attending nurse paused while conducting the ultrasound and quietly excused herself to speak with a doctor (a step that had never occurred during any previous visit). Upon arrival, the doctor gave weight to those suspicions, coolly explaining a prenatal diagnosis that left Suzanne agonizing over her child's future, as the happy vision of Rachel she had held seemed to slip away. As Suzanne still recounts, "She (the doctor) said, 'Your baby must not have any kidneys, your baby must not have a bladder, half your amniotic fluid is gone. There must be something chromosomally wrong with your baby...you need to have an abortion. You could die, and your baby most certainly will die.'" An unemotional and sterile encapsulation of a child that Suzanne couldn't associate with her daughter and a solution that left nothing up for debate. But, even in the midst of her shock, Suzanne knew deep in her heart that there had to be another option for her child, even if that option was going home to await Rachel's passing. At the very least, Suzanne would not submit to the purposeful killing of the little girl she already loved so much.

    Making their intentions clear to the medical establishment (to let Rachel live as long as she might), the couple went home and tried to pick up the pieces. However, as Suzanne still admits to this day, it was difficult to do so and at times she doubted the decision she had made for her daughter. Was she dooming Rachel to an existence of hardship and hurt? Was it worth a few more moments with her daughter if they were spent in sadness and regret? Was there anything good that could come out of this circumstance? And then Suzanne's mother arrived and asked her despondent daughter a very important question: "Is there still a heartbeat?" When this fact was confirmed, the devoted grandmother then uttered the phrase that has stayed with Suzanne to this day and now defines the entire family's Pro-Life work. She said, "If there's a heartbeat, there's hope." Clinging to this truth for the rest of their pregnancy, the Guys also remembered that God has a plan for everything.

    Rachel was born via C-section at 26 weeks, "squawking" and fighting for her life, even reaching up to grab the doctor's stethoscope, which surprised everyone because all predictions had said she would be too weak to move or make any sound at all. While she was premature, the prenatal diagnoses had been wrong and, despite a stay in the NICU to stabilize, Rachel was perfectly healthy and went home soon afterwards with her parents to begin the life she was nearly denied at the onset, to its fullest potential. And she has done just that.

    To date, Rachel has attended dozens of Pro-Life events; has told her story numerous times, including in several pieces for Live Action News; has traveled to Africa to work with children; and, spectacularly, she's even written letters to the doctor who advocated for her abortion. Not in anger but as a heartfelt plea to pursue answers in hard cases, like hers, instead of giving up on babies so quickly. Over the years, thousands of abortions have been carried out because of prenatal diagnoses. While some reveal genuine medical problems, destruction should never be the first option, especially when unknown numbers of those cases resemble the Guys', but ended in tragedy because of haste, a mistake, and fear. God sees worth in every life, no matter its condition, so who is man to decide who lives and who dies? As Rachel pointed out, "I would have missed out on a life that is such a joy." A heartbeat is life and as long as it remains...there is hope to cling to. 

Sources: YouTube.com (Suzanne, Peter), Live Action News (Suzanne, Rachel) 

Photo Credit: Vecteezy.com, Live Action News.org

A Day in the Life of this Writer

Hello, everyone! This is your writer speaking, or rather typing. :) A while ago, I published a blog post called 30 Random Things about This Writer, in which I shared some fun and interesting facts about me and my daily life that I thought you, my readers, might enjoy. I'm hoping that you had fun discovering some things about me - things you might not have guessed, little quirks I have that you might find silly or endearing. Who knows?  Maybe, some of you were able to see me as the real person I am behind the computer screen. Regardless of how much you like that post or how much you got out of it, it was really fun for me to write and, after I posted it I decided that I would write more blog posts like it - little stories from my life that I can share, things about me that some people might enjoy learning. I'm hoping to show my readers that there is a person behind all these typed words; I would like my readers to get to know me better.

A day in the life of this writer....is never normal or regular. That isn't to say that I am some wildly exciting person who spends her days doing things she's never done before, looking for adventure behind every corner. Rather, my days are supposed to be normal, following a routine of some sort. But without fail, something happens every day and any well-thought-out routine or schedule gets changed at the last minute or completely thrown out the window. I guess you could call this life happening, but it's always unexpected and throws a wrench into any and all plans I make for any one day. This makes it a little hard to write about a regular day in my life, but we'll try anyway.

On a "regular" day in my life I wake up sometime around 8:30 in the morning. I am technically supposed to be awake and out of bed well before then and I have dozens of alarms that tell me I should be getting up earlier, but I never listen to them. The bed is just too comfortable and I'm just not a morning person. After waking up and denying that I actually have to get out of bed to be a functional human, I drag myself to my closet and try to pick something to wear for the day. I consider myself low maintenance so my typical outfit is anything comfortable that doesn't require three hours and a tool box to put on; by that I mean a pair of jeans, a t-shirt or tank-top, and one of my many comfy sweaters (in other words, a writer's uniform). I pull all of that on and head to the bathroom, where I tame my bed head and try to wake myself up just a bit more before I slump downstairs for breakfast and a good morning hug from my mom (always the best part of the day).

I am still is high school, so the first half of my day is filled up with school work and extracurricular activities. Lately, my school has consisted of a lot of cram work and catch-up projects in preparation for graduation next year. I would really love to be well done with all my school work by the end of December so I can focus on other things before I go off to college. That's the goal and it is achievable; it just means a lot of stress and extra busyness. On a regular school day, I end up working for about three hours straight on assorted assignments, one of which is usually a blogging session; at least once a week I try to take time during school to work on my next post. Sometimes I'm too stressed with school to come up with anything good, but I try all the same.

After school, I grab a quick lunch and for about half an hour, give or take a few minutes, I have free time. While my schedule varies depending on what day of the week it is, my afternoons are almost always packed with activities and assorted craziness. I don't mind being busy and at times I even enjoy jumping from one thing to the next; I've been doing afternoon activities for so long that they have just become a regular part of my schedule. During a normal week, my afternoons consist of one of the following things at any given time: work, piano lessons, choir, teaching ESL, working out with my sister, and hanging out with a friend or two. While I would love to explain each of these activities more, they are all too extensive to fit in one post nicely. Perhaps each of these will get its own blog post someday.

No matter what an afternoon was dominated by and no matter what the rest of the day held in store for me, and even if I like the occasional crazy schedule, by the time the sun goes down and I stumble back into my house from wherever I was, I am more than ready to end the day. It can be statisfying to know that I got everything I possibly could out of a day because that makes winding down that much better. I finish everyday with several hours of peace and quiet that I set aside for myself. I use this time to relax and indulge in hobbies, and every once in a while I pull out my computer and write another blog post for the people who will take the time to read it. After that, I pack up any paraphernalia that is laying around my room and, with one final recount of the day, I turn off the light and drift off the sleep. As I fall sleep, in the back of my mind I consider how tomorrow will the much the same as today. It may hold its own separate set of challenges and stresses, but deep down I know that if I survived today, I can survive tomorrow.

I hope you enjoyed this little look into my life; it's a simple but happy one that is constantly enriched by the people that I interact with. My life would not be what it is without my family, whom I love very much, and by the people who read this blog. The fact that you chose to read this is very encouraging to me and I hope you will continue to do so in the future. I don't know where my life will go next - I have no idea what is over the horizon - but I intend to bring you all along for the ride regardless of what happens.


Photo Credit: weheartit.com

A Family

Mother Father Sister dear,
I've got something you'll want to hear.
I've written a poem about you all,
I have a feeling it'll make you bawl.

It's about a family who loved me dear,
With them around I've nothing to fear.
All through the day they keep me close,
They're the ones I love the most.

Each one of them is dear to me,
A fact so clear anyone can see.
So here they are my family fair,
Here are just a few ways that they care.

Mother my mother bold yet sweet,
A better mother you'll never meet.
Her heart is an ocean with no near shore,
My inner self she's helped me explore.

She's held my hand and walked with me,
For kisses and hugs I sat on her knee.
She carries a heart full of such love,
Her constant patience must be from above.

And with her's a father the man who raised me,
Fun loving and jolly made me laugh with glee.
Ever caring ever hoping a man kind and brave,
His joyful spirit washing over all like a wave.

There never was a time when Dad didn't care,
Whether telling a story of brushing my hair.
A man born to love us every one,
Happy as summer joyful as the sun.

Half of a whole the other's my sister,
No one could come between us not even a mister.
We've grown together hand in hand,
We'll always be close no matter what's planned.

She's laughed with me cried with me,
From adversity she never did flee.
Happy and joyful deep like the sea,
Forever my sister she'll ways be.

A family's a family through thick and thin,
Together will fly through life's tailspin.
Together for good close or apart,
A family that loves me with their whole heart.

Mother Dearest

Mother dearest mother fair,
Let me recount all the ways that you care.
From morning light till the stars are bright,
There is nothing that escapes your loving sight.

You've loved us with a heart so true,
A love so deep only known to few.
Deep inside it filled you with joy,
Always there no one could destroy.

You've kept us close and held our hands,
Walked beside us through the sands.
You've hugs us close and whispered love,
And kissed our sadness away like a dove.

Your heart is so deep an endless well,
You sing out your love like a bright bell.
You've told us in so many ways,
There's no way to count the love-filled days.

A mother's heart is deep as the sea,
Endless and filled with her child's glee.
It's filled with triumph and with tears,
In it she holds all her children's fears.

A mother holds the world as one,
Her heart of love is forever undone.
Upon the world she showers her gaze,
She is always deserving of our praise.

Mother dearest always there,
Let me tell you how I can.
You've made me strong and full of love,
You've turned my eyes to up above.

There is no way to say what we must,
In mother we will always trust.
Never alone and never gone,
Mother is always there bright as a dawn.


Happy Mother's Day!!!

Thanksgiving 2018 Prayer Blog

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!!

It's that time of year: the leaves are falling,  with maybe a little bit of snow. The Halloween decorations have come down, replaced by scarecrows and fake turkeys, and everyone is looking forward to Thanksgiving, that one day a year when the entire family comes from every corner of the city, state, or country to squeeze into one tiny house full of food and laughter, to celebrate together.

While it has never been my favorite holiday (Christmas holds that position, definitely) I've always thought that Thanksgiving is something very special. Every year I looked forward to getting together with my family to enjoy the holiday. Everyone's so happy on Thanksgiving and the joy is infectious. Nowadays Thanksgiving gets overshadowed by flashier holidays like Halloween and Christmas, which I think is really sad.

Who cares if Thanksgiving doesn't come with funny costumes or brightly wrapped packages? So what if it doesn't involve free candy or a sparkly evergreen tree? Thanksgiving isn't about getting; it's about giving and enjoying what you already have. On Thanksgiving, we come together with the family God gave us, we enjoy good food prepared by skillful hands, and we remember the last year and the joys that it held. Thanksgiving isn't Christmas, and it's not Halloween. But in many ways it's better than either, because it's a time to be loved by family and a time to thank God for his blessings.

A Prayer for Thanksgiving

Dear God,
How wonderful you are, how mighty are your works. You give us blessing beyond imagination, and today on Thanksgiving we want to give you something back. Thank you for all that you've provided for us: a roof over our heads, good food to eat, a family that loves us, and the free gift of life that your son gave us. May we be eternally grateful for the blessings you've given us. And give us your eyes to see those in need and give our blessings to them. We praise you because you are worthy. Amen.

Photo Credit: boundingintocomics.com

A Hollenbeck Thanksgiving

I have always loved the Hollenbeck family's Thanksgiving; there is nothing quite like it anywhere. Perhaps it's my own rose colored memories of the time or maybe some special magic surrounding my Grandma's house, but there is something wonderful about a Hollenbeck holiday. So special that I want to give you a small glimpse of it. Let's take a trip back in time to my most treasured Thanksgiving. Everything was perfect, everything fell into place, and I will forever picture my family the way they were on this day; I believe it was a Saturday.

It is a perfectly chilly autumn day but still sunny. We drive up to my grandparents' house in our car that's loaded down with two pumpkin pies and a fat, juicy apple one. Grabbing these and other things we had brought, we - my dad and mom, my sister Abbie, and me - head towards the front door. As we open it, we all brace ourselves but not soon enough. Within three seconds, our legs and feet are assaulted by a wave of barking dogs. The four excited canines repeatedly launch themselves at us, almost causing us to drop the pies.

From the other room we hear a shout followed by the shuffling sound of slippered feet, and in walks Grandpa. Picture him. He is tall, gray, and skinny; his sweater vest and high waisted pants hang loosely around his bony shoulders and legs, giving him the look of a well dressed scarecow. His slippers are set off by his bright socks that are pulled up to his shins. He strides towards us, wraps each of  us in a soft hug, and greets all of us with a cheery voice and a smile.

Wading through the sea of dogs, we all continue to the kitchen, which is full of people. Aunt Nancy steps froward for a hug; her hands are full of turkey and stuffing but that doesn't stop her from enveloping me in her arms and crushing me against her chest.

"You get taller every time I see you," she remarks before letting go of me.

When she does, she steps aside so that the rest of the family can get in a hug also. There is Aunt Kristy and Uncle Chris with their kids, Annaliesse and Olivia; Uncle Eric and Aunt Patty with cousins Jordyn and Brady; and Aunt Nancy's two kids, Sinclair and Max.

Then Grandma appears from the basement stairs, her arms loaded down with spices and other cooking paraphernalia. She is the exact opposite of Grandpa physically; she is short and plump with curly blond hair, and she always has a cheery smile on her face. I have to bend down to hug her because I am so much taller than she. As she greets me, I can hear her contagious smile in her voice.

Now that all the hellos are said, we can all settle in. The pies are put away for later; and then the talking starts. The Hollenbeck family is very loud by nature so when everyone is together in a very small house with lots of things to say, you can just imagine the noise we create. All sorts of conversations bounce around the house; in every room someone is talking, hundreds of words creating a loud but wonderful noise that I just love.

While everyone talks, Aunt Nancy and Grandma continue to prepare the Thanksgiving dinner; they cook the turkey and stir the gravy, mix the cranberry sauce, and fluff the mashed potatoes. When everything is ready and set on the groaning table, everyone comes to sit down and eat.

This Thanksgiving is especially dear to me because it is the first time I remember the entire family being together. We all live so far away that it is a treat for even a few of us to get together, so when everyone of us is here, it's really quite wonderful.

I remember looking around the table at all the faces. My family. I remember how wonderful it all felt and I wished I could keep us all together forever. But since I couldn't, I simply had to enjoy it in the moment and keep the memory treasured forever.

Things have changed now. All of us have gone our own ways and no Thanksgiving will ever be the same as that very special one. But that is okay because the real joy I feel at Thanksgiving does not come from tradition or everything going exactly right. It comes from being with my family. No matter how loud or raucous they are, no matter how far apart we might live, I will always be happy to come back and celebrate Thanksgiving with them.

The Music Man

Who remembers The Music Man, a musical full of great songs and cheesy but memorable characters? For those who haven't seen it, here's the back story: A traveling salesman by the name of Professor Harold Hill comes to a humdrum Iowa town to sell band instruments and uniforms, promising to teach the boys who join the band to play music. All the while, he plans to get as much money as possible and then cut and run. Unlike many salesmen, Harold actually cares about his customers, so when a lonely boy and a stubborn librarian tug on his heart strings, he starts to feel guilty about his former plans. He truly cares about music and gets the whole town loving it too. The movie truly shows how one music man can give melody to an entire town. Who can forget that final scene as Harold Hill leads his boys' band through the streets? The spectacle is enough to make Harold Hill the one and only music man forever.

But now I would like to introduce another music man, not quite as famous as Harold Hill but just as talented - and maybe more so. Here is a young man in the Kiel Municipal Band. He is tall and handsome; his straight shoulders are set off by his smooth black hair. This young man is the drum major and he holds the staff high and pumps it up with a great passion. He is Gerald Hollenbeck, and he is my grandpa. Being the drum major is more than just marching in front of the band waving a big fancy stick. The drum major keeps time for the whole band; they watch him bob the staff up and down and they know the timing. Without the drum major, there would be no order or discipline in a band and no one would be in synch. The drum major is the life and soul of every band and it took real determination to lead it.

Picture the following scene: The Kiel Municipal Band was scheduled to give a marching performance down Church Street and all over New Holstein. But on the day of the event, it began to rain cats and dogs. Normally under these circumstances, the band would disperse and play another day. But instead of dismissing them, my grandpa took up his staff and led the band out into the pouring rain. They marched down Church Street as planned, my grandpa pumping the staff the whole way. Not many people came out to watch the waterlogged band, but they could still hear the music, the wonderful music that the music man led. My Grandpa is the real music man; music was his life and life was his music. He could find a melody in a drop of rain or the whistle of a train. The music he led was already great but he made it marvelous. The music man, the height of pride, melody, and the marching band. My Music Man!

I Dare You

Couples, when was the last time you took your spouse out on a date? What was the last romantic movie you went to? When was the last time you told your mate that you love him or her? Before you and your spouse were married, you couldn't wait to go on a date with your perfect mate and you had no trouble planing dates. Then you got married and it was wonderful, but what happened? You got too busy to go on couples' dates; you had kids who couldn't sit through long movies, and your days got so full you couldn't even stop to tell your spouse that you love him or her.

This is bad. When this happens, you know you're losing your zest for love. But the answer to this is not ending the relationship, which many people think is the answer. No, you must try as hard as you can to find your zest again. I dare you! Next time romance presents itself, don't just pass it up as a part of your day. Take it! When the kids are in bed, pop in a classic movie and snuggle up, or get a babysitter and go out for dinner. Husband, make your wife breakfast; wife, bring a surprise lunch to your husband's work. And don't forget to greet your mate every morning with an, "I love you."

Too many couples have lost their zest; will you take the dare to bring it back? How romantic can you be? I dare you to find out.

Brave Fathers (of Girls)

When your daughter was born, you fell in love that minute; she was so small and helpless and you vowed to protect "your little girl." You watched her grow into a sweet girl who loved to play dress-up, and you played with her. She grew even more and you watched her transform from a girl into a young woman, a young woman you could be proud of. You stood by her in her sadness, happiness, her first crush even though you dreaded it, and you even stood by her when she went on her first date, even though you wished you could have gone with her to "protect her." And then it came! Your daughter came home with an engagement ring; you had met the boy and you approve but as you walk your little girl down the aisle, you remember the first time you held her and a tear came to your eye.

You are a brave father, a father of a girl. Many people think that a boy is more difficult to raise than a girl but this is not true. A father who can raise a girl with love and empathy is a true man. The typical stereotype of a man is a tough, hard nosed, hunter who should have sons to follow in his footsteps. But a true man can not only raise boys but girls too; the man who can play dress-up with his daughter and stay her daddy until all eternity is truly a man. I commend the brave father who is not only a dad to his girl but he's also a playmate, a fall cushion, a prince of  play time, and a substitute cook when mom's away. These are the brave fathers.

I would like to take this time to thank my dad for being so wonderful, He is everything that I described in this essay: a caring, loving man who is the best dad my sister and I could ever have.

Surviving the Teens

When children reach a certain age, they must grow up. Their bodies make drastic changes. And something snaps inside of them. It is a difficult balance, when your child reaches the teens, knowing when to intervene and when to step back. There is such a fine line between the two that parents will cross the line numerous times.

From a parent's perspective, it is a heart rending time where their babies are growing up. Parents are happy for their children but they wish they could keep their babies one more day. From children's perspectives, it can be one of the most wonderful and most terrifying times in their lives. Every part of their bodies are growing at an alarming speed, too fast to keep up. They feel twenty different emotions at the same time; when the emotions give off too much pressure they explode in fits of anger.

Parents, you can never know how confused your children feel, but be please stay patient with them. Children, your parents were teens once too and they can help you through hard times, so be open and truthful with them. It's a long and difficult road you have to travel but don't feel discouraged. You will finish the road a better person, having walked it with the help of your parents.

Photo Credit: Pierre Metivier

A Father

A father is a man of wisdom, a man to be admired by all who know him. He is a man who loves his children with all his being. He loves them so much he would put himself in any danger to protect his loved ones. Father's Day has been made to celebrate Dad and it is a brilliant idea. But let your dad know how grateful you are every day - not just Father's Day. If your father is no longer alive, be grateful for the time you had with him. If you had a falling out with your father, try to make things right; you don't know how long he'll be around. You should try as hard as you can to have good memories of your father. Your dad won't always be there. So while you can, let him teach you all he knows so you can model his wisdom. There is no better way to say, "Thank you, Dad", than following his advice.

Photo Credit: Gil

Why Do We Care

We are all created in God's image, to treat each other as friends. Why then do we compare skin color, faith, and race. Why do we care if someone is black or white, we are all the same. We do not need to classify people as "a Black man" or "a Asian woman." If your talking about a person obey God's request to love your neighbor as your self. Would you describe your self by putting your skin color before your name? Next time before you classify someone as a "black or white" think, "Would I want to be describe by the color of my skin? Next time your hear someone classify a person by their skin ask them, "Why do we care."




Photo Credit: francistoms

Memories

Look 

Look in that old trunk in the attic; peek into that desk in the garage. When you dig in old things, you never know what you might find. You could discover an old photograph of your grandma; she might be holding a doll that is in your sister's room now. You might find an old baseball cap; if you ask your dad about it, he might have some wonderful stories to tell.


Memories are precious things. You should try all you can to dig into your family's history. Ask your grandparents about their families because someday those people who can tell you about the past are going to be gone, and you'll be left wondering what that time was like, and who was that person.


If there's an old trunk in your attic, dig into it and see what's inside.

Photo Credit: Craig Sunter 

Church

Church may just seem like a routine thing; every Sunday you go there to sing some songs, hear a short sermon, and see your friends. But next Sunday look around at your church family, and you might see something amazing. You will see a holy light shining brighter than anything, leaping in great ribbons of light from every heart in the room. Then you will feel something bubbling inside yourself - a great happiness - and then your own heart will begin to glow. This is what happens when the church family is together as one. It might not be visible, but you know that bright light of God is still there.

Photo Credit: Trey Rarcliff

Bright Circle

A long time ago when darkness fell, families would gather in the living room. Father would clean his gun, Mother would sew, Older Brother would work on a puzzle, Older Sister would knit, and the little once would tumble around with the dog. Sitting in the living room with family is a precious thing - a time to hear stories, or listen to the radio. But enjoying the family nowadays is not as important to many as it was before. Everyone rushes off to do their own things. Let us not lose this wonderful feeling of family togetherness. Let us come into this bright circle of love and laughter together.

Photo Credit: William Warby

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a tradition in every family. In some way, a family always celebrates the bounties of the year. You sit down at the table, you say a prayer, your father cuts the turkey, you dig into the cranberry sauce, and enjoy the company of family. Is this what Thanksgiving is all about?

Think what it really stands for. The Pilgrims had just survived a bad sea crossing and a cold winter. They had made friends with the Indians and were thankful to God for his providence. You are free to enjoy all the food; just make sure you take a minute to thank God for his love and providence.


Photo Credit: Satya Murthy