On Sacred Ground At Historic Christ Church

Editor’s Note: This piece was first published on September 22, 2024. Today seems like a good time to revisit it as a gentle nudge that patriotism can be found, not just in the fireworks, but in the quieter places too.

Silence is underrated. So is being in the presence of history. Once in a while, I’m fortunate to find myself in a place so heavy with significance that you can feel the sacredness vibrate through your body if you know how to listen for it in the silence.

I’m grateful that I appreciate these things and that I know how to wait for the vibrations. 

Day two of our Philadelphia adventure was marvelously packed with all kinds of good things. Breakfast from a cute cafe around the corner, the Liberty Bell, Betsy Ross’ home, a ridiculously good lunch at an Irish Pub, shopping, and the list goes on. We really packed it in. 

But at some point that day, we found ourselves having just escaped a chaotic place and standing on the sidewalk outside Christ Church. 

This church was founded in 1695 and is the birthplace of the American Episcopal Church. This building was constructed in 1744 and the steeple was added ten years later thanks to a fundraiser organized by Benjamin Franklin. 

Those founders of our nation who believed in the concept of separation of church and state? Many of them worshiped here.

George Washington, John Adams, Robert Morris (financier of the American Revolution, signer of the Declaration of Independence, the Articles of Confederation and the U.S. Constitution), Benjamin Rush (signer of the Declaration of Independence, members of the Continental Congress and many others prayed here, knelt here and sought spiritual guidance for the revolutionary ideas that helped to build a new nation.

It was five bucks to go in and look around. Ten for a guided tour. All the money goes back to the preservation of the property and they have done a great job at that. 

Friends, I got to sit in the pew where Betsy Ross worshiped. I got to sit as the world went by around me and consider the perspective that she had on the world while she was quietly sewing her place into American history. 

There were a few other visitors like us. My friend chatted with a volunteer. I sat quietly and soaked in my surroundings. I wasn’t interested in talking or learning. I didn’t want to make new friends. I wanted to just absorb the air around me, to feel the pew, to notice how the floor felt beneath my feet and to appreciate the soaring ceiling that reached toward the heavens. 

It was the most peace I have felt in a long time and I was beyond grateful to have that experience. 

We were preparing to leave when three women marched in the front door, past the sign with admission details and started past the young woman who was selling admission tickets. She was extremely polite as she welcomed the ladies and let them know there is a $5 admission. The women looked annoyed and one said “well, it isn’t worth that!” They turned and left without even saying thank you.

Don’t be those women. Be a nice visitor. Pay attention to your surroundings and at least be polite to the volunteers or the low paid service workers who are there to help. Honestly, the experience I had in that old church was worth more than the price of admission. Not to mention, it goes to a good cause. Imagine the weight of responsibility being caretakers for such an important piece of our nation’s history. 

I walked away completely at peace, breathing better and feeling more equipped to take on the rest of the day. It was well worth the time and money to have such a close brush with our nation’s past on sacred ground. Worship in person or visit them online for information.

A Note From Rural America Following A Tragedy

My community took a hit this week when an unspeakable crime was discovered against sixteen children. The Ohio Attorney General called it the worst he’s ever seen. While they can’t share many details of this ongoing investigation, phrases like “third world conditions” and “pure evil” have been thrown about.

I live in the least populated county in Ohio. There are about 13,000 people in this county of 415 square miles. This is not a wealthy community and, like many places, we have plenty of problems.

But it’s such a nice place to live.

Our community is rural with just a handful of small towns. We are largely a bedroom community with only one traffic light and no Walmart. There’s a locally owned grocery, pharmacist and hardware. There are a couple of dollar stores and a number of mom and pop businesses. The University of Rio Grande just dedicated a new branch building here. There are very few large employers and a huge chunk of our population commutes outside the county for jobs. Remote work has been a Godsend for many. We are close though to towns with shopping, iobs and healthcare. Our idea of traffic involves farm tractors, school buses and Amish buggies. For many, money is tight and for many more that live beneath the federal poverty line, life is hard.

What we do have is rolling hills, miles of recreational trails through public lands, and a population that largely looks out for one another. It’s the kind of place where people still bring food when someone dies and where folks will check on their neighbors in a heat wave.

We have a growing tourism industry here. What we lack in shopping and amusement parks we make up for with outdoor recreation, unique places to stay (there’s a castle, tons of cabins, and even a hobbit themed Airbnb), and the small town authenticity that many folks from cities are craving.

It’s a good place to vacation. It’s a great place to live if you enjoy the quiet life.

This week has been rough though. This week, the decent citizens of my beautiful community have been rocked to their core.

Four people were arrested for endangering sixteen children who evidently all belong to their family. Sixteen kids from toddler up to an 18 year old were kept in their own filth in a 12 x 12 room. Reading between the lines, there is much more to the story.

First responders say that, a day later, they can still smell the place. There’s no getting rid of the smell. The prosecutor said it looked like something out of a third world country and that some of the kids were in such bad shape they may not have survived another day. The Ohio Attorney General said it was the worst thing he’s seen in his career. Neighbors say they didn’t even know there were kids in the house. There were no signs that children lived there at all.

The governor is offering whatever aid is needed to support the physical and mental well being of those kids.

It is sickening. It is tragic. It is one of the worst things I’ve ever heard and I’m struggling to comprehend that it happened here.

If you look around, our residents are seeking ways to help out and to support our first responders who have witnessed things this week that no human should have to see. People are collecting money to help those kids. They’re planning snacks and cold drinks for the first responders. They’re gathering to pray. They’re actively seeking ways to help in a situation that feels so hopeless.

The city media that doesn’t give us the time of day when amazing things happen here are suddenly sending multiple reporters from each agency for this one story. My Facebook feed is overrun with videos from press conferences and with mug shots of four individuals who look like monsters.

These people chose to live here but they aren’t from here. They’ve moved around a lot and somehow landed here in a small house in a small town with very big heart.

Now cue the hillbilly jokes. Cue the stereotypes. Cue the judgment against a population that would never condone such a thing had we known.

I have got to stop reading internet comments.

The Appalachian stereotype is alive and well. References to the movie Deliverance, statements that they look like everyone else here, and even remarks about the judge’s hair have been part of the discourse. Nasty remarks about the court system and the law enforcement community, about the intelligence of our population and about everything else you can imagine abound.

The media has long portrayed this community in a negative light. Internet comments have intensified the meanness toward our population and place but it’s nothing new. I’ve heard the judgement and the jokes for my entire life and have spent a lot of my career trying to prove them all wrong.

I think it’s important to note that these people have been moving around and abusing these children for a while now. It took them coming to Ohio’s smallest county with the fewest resources for anyone to notice and do something about it.

That’s the headline everyone is missing.

We may not have much but we pay attention and know how to get things done.

I am proud to be from Vinton County, Ohio. I’m proud of our citizens for looking for ways to be helpful. I’m proud of our first responders who played a part in giving those kids a chance at a new life.

Small communities are amazing places. I don’t care what the keyboard warriors say.

If you’re looking for a peaceful place, somewhere that’s not flashy with a good coffee shop and some amazing trails, consider coming here to see what life is really like in a small town. Rural America is so much more than the headlines tell you. So, if not here, go find another rural community and look for the good.

It’s there. I promise.

Silent Sunday: Judgement

Bella Grace

A couple of years ago, I discovered a publication called Bella Grace. It’s a thick, perfect bound magazine on quality paper. There are no ads. The photos are soft and the ideas are sharp.

It’s timeless and well done.

Basically, it’s the opposite of everything else that’s popular these days.

They aren’t selling products and ways to fix yourself. They are shining a light on calm and beauty in this world. They give you stories and writing prompts to make you think. Reader submissions are creative, thought provoking and sometimes so familiar it’s exciting to know there are others out there who think like you. It’s also sometimes mindset changing to read thoughts from people who are different. This is how we learn.

Bella Grace is about making the everyday special and making hard days easier. It’s about making the good stuff magical.

In short, it’s a soothing balm for my nervous system that I didn’t even know I needed.

I’ve only seen it in two stores in Ohio – Barnes and Noble and Joseph Beth Booksellers on Cincinnati so it feels like a special occasion when get to pick one up. It ain’t cheap but it’s not a throw away piece either. I keep my past issues lined up together on a bookshelf and always have one or two lying around the house. They are great rereads because you always spot something new.

They also publish a companion piece called “Bella Grace Field Guide To Everyday Magic.” The new one is more than 130 pages of quotes, worksheets, lists and writing prompts to recall memories, make you think, spark creativity and to help you view your world differently.

One prompt asks in what ways you are like your five year old self. Another is what books you think everyone should read. Others deal with everyday beauty in common things, adventuring in the world and the loveliness of being a homebody.

Perspective is a huge theme because the things some find workaday can be viewed by someone else as having great value.

There’s a two page spread with 31 blocks – a calendar with no dates, if you will. Each block is an inch square. The prompt is to write something about every day. It can’t be too long and can be just snippets like “dark and rainy, read Frankenstein, laughed with a friend.”

This time I’m using mine to write something good that happened every day. Most days are easy. Some are really hard. That’s how life goes.

This week there were good things to report even on the hard days. In fact, it felt like the hard days outnumbered the good. But, as I sit here looking back over the week, it’s hard to focus on the bad when there was so much good. Just this week, I had porch suppers on pretty nights, saw the governor speak at the ribbon cutting of an amazing new community college facility here in my hometown, saw a rainbow, and my dad rescued a kitten from a tree because he’s a really good guy.

That’s not too shabby.

I think half the problem with this world is that people focus too much on the bad and on what scares them. That’s certainly understandable given the social injustices, cruelty, anti- intellectualism, mental health struggles, poverty, closed mindedness, inflation, and narcissism of the general population that exists every day of the week.

Don’t get me wrong. I think about those things too and I worry we are on exactly the wrong path toward the future. Worst of all, I can’t change it. I can only change myself and try to be a role model for decency.

Bella Grace feels like the escape that everyone needs and most people don’t want right now. it’s certainly the escape I need. Less stimulation, prejudice, anger, and all around cruelty and more calm, kindness, and thoughtfulness both inward and toward the perspectives of others are a good start toward a better world.

Be the change you wish to see.

And if you get a chance, pick up an issue of Bella Grace and see what you think! As for me and the 31 days of good things, I’m almost done with my available space. It has been good for my mental health so I think I’ll find another way to keep doing it!

Rainbow Musings

Saturday brought an unexpected storm here on the ridge. After a long day of chores that kept me busy (even though it looks like nothing was done), I was glad for a one pot meal and dinner on the screened-in porch.

It was already a nice evening and then the rain began. It was hard and the gutters barely kept up. My fella and I reveled in this gift from Nature and the way it ushered in cooler air.

And when it ended, there was a rainbow.

I was proud of myself for trotting right out the front door to stand in the yard in my bare feet. This is a big deal for me since I rarely go outside without shoes since stepping on a bee as a kid. But I needed a closer look and there’s no time to spare where rainbows are concerned.

I reveled in the soft, squishy wet grass between my toes and wondered why I don’t do this more. The wet grass was cool and calming.

Summer would be better if it were always like this. And every day would be better if there were a rainbow to enjoy. A new workweek begins today. Enjoy it, friends!

Silent Sunday: Rainbow