Wednesday, February 25, 2026

An Ode to Stella
(Things Our Little Ones Teach Us)

Read: Mark 10:13-16, Philippians 2:3-7, Colossians 3:12-14

Being loved by Stella means never knowing where anything is – because she cleaned the house when you weren’t looking.
It means coming downstairs to a plate full of snacks, or a glass filled with Diet Pepsi.
It’s Honey’s toys picked up in the yard, and Cooper’s in his room.

It’s always having an errand buddy, or someone eager to share their favorite song with you.

It’s dancing in the rain, babysitting bunnies, baking cookies, and tackling DIY projects together.

Stella is independent in the way only a child can be – so capable on her own, yet always wanting to be close.
She wants to help, to be part of everything, to make the people she loves feel cared for.

Being loved by Stella is experiencing moments of kindness and gentleness woven into everyday life – for all of God’s people and creatures.

Through loving Stella, I’m reminded that love can be both strong and soft, independent and connected. And no matter what our days bring, we are called to lead with a serving heart

Emily Bianchi

Tuesday, February 24, 2026

Grief and Joy

The Bible tells us in many ways that deep grief and profound joy can coexist thru God, and even amidst our darkest days we can still live in the light.

In John 16:20 Jesus told his disciples, "you will be sorrowful but your sorrows will turn into joy.” It was a promise that the grief over his death would turn to joy at his resurrection and the coming of the Holy Spirit.

When I wrote my first Lenten devotion in 2023 it was after the sudden loss of my mother, and it focused on the support of the church and friends during that season of deep grief. Anne Sullivan, a close friend and fellow Stephen Minister, provided so much of that support and friendship.

I am now walking the "Mourners Path" again that I wrote about in 2024, and it is for our treasured GPUMC member and cherished wife, mother, sister, and friend, Anne Sullivan.

In 2025 I wrote about the ladies book club that met in the memorial garden, The book was Choosing Joy by Kay Warren. Anne was a part of that group, and she and I were also doing another book study together at our beloved pier park called "Life Worth Living".

The last time that Anne was able to attend our Tuesday night ladies Bible study at the church, we walked to the parking lot together on that beautiful evening in late September of 2024.

As always she was asking me about my exciting year ahead, and joyfully said that 2025 was going to be a great year, as we hugged goodbye. Her surgery for Ovarian Cancer was scheduled the following week.

I was blessed to be able to visit with Anne many times before she died on May 26th, and despite her surgeries and pain, her smile was as radiant and as comforting as ever. And Anne was right of course, it has been a year of great joy for me, as my oldest son Blake was married on June 14^th, and my daughter Bridget was married November 23^rd.

I returned from my son's wedding in Mexico City a few days before Anne's beautiful memorial service and interment in the memorial garden on June 20th. My joy had turned to sorrow, and again I returned to the words of Jesus in John 15:11. "These things I have spoken to you, that my joy many remain in you, and that your joy may be full".

I know for certain that Anne would have wanted our sorrows that day to turn to joy, as we sang one of her favorite songs as we gathered around the garden, "I'll Fly Away," led by her beloved choir.

Anne was a talented musician, and I loved her performances in recent years on the guitar, which she learned to play in her 50s! One of my favorite Christian songs is "Well Done" by the group the "Afters." The chorus, taken from 2 Timothy 4:7-8 is "Well done my good and faithful one, welcome to the place where you belong. Well done, well done my beloved child, you have run the race and now you're home!”

Well done my fun-loving, faithful, and fearless friend. I will look for your joyful smile from your spot in the choir always, and in the sky until my race is done and I fly away to see you again.

Amy Sanford

 

Monday, February 23, 2026

I Know it’s Not the Iditarod

Read: 1 Peter 5:1-11

Maybe it was the cold – the unending cold. Maybe it was the snow – the snow that just wouldn’t melt away. Maybe it was just me that day.

Whatever the reason, I was getting really annoyed at Billie on our walk, as she stopped every few yards (at least that’s how it felt at the time), licking at the snow that had built up between her toes. “That’s what happens when you lick all the cream off your feet before we even get outside,” I told her, and not in a very kind tone I will confess.

After several stops, I realized how crabby and unkind I was being, and tried to be nicer as I helped her get the snow out of her feet. Being a dog, Billie has an amazing ability to forgive and forget, so I got those great thankful looks and tail-wags even though I hadn’t deserved them to start with.

Last year she gave me a lesson from Romans, but this year I think she was reading one of Paul’s other letters:
Don’t worry about stuff, just keep asking your Dad to help, and keep wagging your tail for him while you ask. – Philippians 4:6 CSV (Canine Standard Version)

Well, that’s a really good admonition, and it makes me stop to thank God that He’s not like I was that day. When I come to God with my needs and requests – in thanksgiving – I know He isn’t saying, “O great, Charlie needs help again,” or “Come on, Charlie, I’m already doing that for you.” Knowing that makes me want to work at being more like Jesus, reaching out in love to those who are in need.

One thing Billie has to be thankful for is that I’ve gotten much better at applying the cream to her feet before we go walk in the snow. The stuff is called Musher’s Secret, and it really works well – when it’s properly applied, that is. We haven’t had a snow-filled foot in a long time, now. (If you have a dog and I hadn’t already told you about this stuff, I apologize. It’s great and Billie highly recommends it.)

Prayer: Thank you, Father, for the lessons we learn from each other, and from all of your creatures. May we continue to grow closer to the image of Jesus, through the work of the Holy Spirit in us and through us. Amen.

Charlie van Becelaere

Sunday, February 22, 2026

Now the Green Blade Riseth – UMH 311

Now the green blade riseth, from the buried grain,

Wheat that in dark earth many days has lain;

Love lives again, that with the dead has been:

Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.

In the grave they laid Him, Love who had been slain,

Thinking that He never would awake again,

Laid in the earth like grain that sleeps unseen:

Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.

Forth He came at Easter, like the risen grain,

Jesus who for three days in the grave had lain;

Quick from the dead the risen One is seen:

Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.

When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,

Jesus' touch can call us back to life again,

Fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been:

Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.

J.M.C. Crum

Saturday, February 21, 2026

Here I am, Lord

“I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I; send me!” – Isaiah 6:8

Alex and Paul were driving along the interstate from Fort Wayne, Indiana, to Chicago on Thanksgiving morning when their car broke down. One phone call later, they and their car were towed into a service station near Gary, Indiana.

What to do? Alex had been the choir director at a United Methodist Church in central Indiana and knew that the minister from that church was now leading the congregation at Portage United Methodist Church which was not far from where they landed.

He called the minister who was out of town for the holiday, but he told Alex he’d make some calls and see what he could do to help.

The minister’s next call was to Kris Bailey, the mother of my son-in-law and an active member of the Portage church. Could she help? Absolutely, she said. They can have Thanksgiving dinner with us — then I’ll drive them back to Fort Wayne (a 2½ hour drive!).

Shortly thereafter, Kris was en route to retrieve Alex and Paul, and they were soon part of our family’s Thanksgiving gathering. The 15 people around the table that day included our daughter (Emily), my son-in-law, my son-in-law’s cousin, wife, and brother-in-law from Indianapolis, his sister and her family, a friend of Kris who had recently had back surgery, and me and Bob. It was a gaggle to be sure!

And, amazingly, everyone not only got along, but we ended up inviting Alex and Paul to return next year!

There were so many lessons that day, but the one I take away the most is Kris’ generous spirit. She does not hesitate when asked to take on a task. She is definitely no push-over, but, when help is needed, she is a helper. She is a “yes” person. A devout Methodist, she stretches to support her family, her community, her world. She said yes, even though she didn’t know these men and couldn’t possibly have known how their presence would affect our holiday meal. Someone needed help, and she was ready to provide.

Making excuses is so easy: It’s too far. I’m too tired. I don’t like that person. I don’t want to know that person. I have too much on my plate. It’s too hard. It will take too much time, etc., etc., etc.

Saying yes when you don’t know the consequences of your response can be frightening. But stepping out in faith is surely what’s required of all of us who believe in Jesus and his message.

Prayer: Here I am, Lord. Please use me to your will. I know that all things are possible with your love and guidance. I am ready to serve

Joan Richardson

Friday, February 20, 2026

Held and Becoming

"Be still and know that I am God." – Psalms 46:10
"He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion." – Philippians 1:6

This morning, many of us awakened to begin a new day carrying more than anyone can see. We carry responsibilities, worries, unanswered prayers, grief, hope, exhaustion, joy, and sometimes all of it at once. We are a congregation that loves deeply, and gives generously, yet sometimes forgets to rest in the truth that we are already held by God.

God does not love us for what we accomplish. He loves us because we are His. Before we fix anything, before we serve anyone, before we prove ourselves worthy, God tells us to, "Be still" – not because He wants us passive, but because He wants us to remember who is really in control.

Stillness is not weakness. Stillness is trust.

And here's the beautiful truth: We are not finished products. God is still working. Still shaping. Still healing. Still restoring.

The places in your life that feel incomplete or broken are not evidence of failure, they are evidence of ongoing grace.

Some of us need permission today to stop striving. Some of us need reassurance that our prayers are not wasted. Some of us need to hear that God is not disappointed in us. He is patient, faithful, and near.

You are allowed to exhale.
You are allowed to rest.

You are allowed to trust that God is doing far more than you can see.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, Thank you for meeting us right where we are – not where we think we should be. Teach us to be still in a world that demands constant motion. Remind us that you are faithful to complete the work you began in us. Help us release what we cannot control and trust you with what we cannot see. Strengthen our hearts, quiet our fears, and renew our spirits as we walk forward together. We ask these things in your precious name. Amen.

Cindy Rolka

Thursday, February 19, 2026

Beautiful Melodies

Read: Psalm 96:1-3

I have been playing the euphonium for over 30 years. I especially enjoy playing at church during Praise Band rehearsals Wednesday evenings, and during Service Sunday mornings while stationed at Fort Bliss, Texas with the Army Reserves. It is almost like praying with my fingers. But every couple weeks or so, no matter how much I tune them, the notes begin to sound tired and flat. Then I must do one of my least favorite tasks: adjust the tuning slide. I slowly unwind and continuously pull in and push out the slide until the instrument is properly tuned. It’s a lot of trouble, but even the plainest melody rings with beauty.

I have discovered that sometimes God works in me the same way. When my life has gotten out of tune, God sits me down and starts adjusting my slide. God unwinds my attitudes and goals that have a selfish sharp sound and gently leads me to repentance. Next, God adjusts the slide, tuning the instrument until the grace notes of Jesus Christ can be heard again in my heart. When the Great Musician sits down to play the beautiful melodies of life in me again — oh, what joy!

Ben DeWitt