For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.  Romans 8:38-39

I've been a Lutheran all of my life, having been baptized in the church built on property donated by my great-grandfather. In my early years, my parents brought their five children to our little church every Sunday and then to Sunday School where we sang songs, memorized Bible verses and goofed around with all of my cousins who belonged to the Nelson families that made up most of the congregation.  There were summer church picnics, Christmas programs, and because we were Norwegian Lutherans, lutefisk suppers which my dad enjoyed (I think). My mom, having been raised in the local Dutch Reform church, opted for meatballs.  I spent my early childhood believing that if you weren't Lutheran, you were probably Dutch Reform. When I was 10 years old, we moved to a larger community - of whom almost none of them were my relatives.  The church-going population included Methodists, Baptists, Catholics and other Lutherans. It was a new religious world for me!  In the years since that discovery, I hope and pray that God has opened my eyes and heart to the unending love and compassion He gives to his entire church - and to make my life a witness of that love to others.

There have been so many opportunities to see God’s work in action – both in my life and those around me.  My father died when I was 18, leaving my mom, who was 42-years old, and five children.  I was angry – at God, but also at our life and the belief that had my family been able to afford better medical care, he wouldn’t have died as he did. It seemed so unfair because he was such a good, loving man.  But, I am thankful that during the last summer he was alive, I was home from college, working at a local grocery store and would come home for lunch.  Most of the time, it was just the two of us and we had time to talk.  My dad confessed that he didn’t want to leave us, but he also said he wasn’t afraid. He knew that Jesus was waiting for him.

One of the experiences where I felt closest to God was when I accompanied a group from Bethel to Tanzania.  One afternoon, I was in the main shopping area of Iringa, looking for some gifts to bring home, and as I stepped out of one of the shops and stood on the sidewalk, I realized I was the only white person on the entire street.  All around me, people whose appearance were certainly different than mine, were busy doing all of the same things I would be doing on 2^nd Street in Hudson.  Even though Iringa and Hudson are separated by nine time-zones and thousands of miles, as God’s children, we all have the same wishes and desires of family:  a place to worship, a roof over our heads, food on the table, education for our children, someone to share these with, and the assurance that our God loves, protects, comforts and saves us. 

On January 25^th, my mom, Alyce Nelson, passed away. Being the strong, caring, organized woman she was, she had picked out the songs and Bible readings for her funeral service.  Sitting in the front pew of the church she had attended for more than 50 years, her loved ones heard the Pastor read from Romans 8.  These were the same verses that I had chosen to be a part of my Lenten devotional - before she died and not knowing what she had planned.  It is such a blessing to realize that both of us wanted to share the same Bible passage of God’s love and his promise of eternal life.

Prayer:  Dear Father, because of the sacrifice of Your only Son, we can rejoice in the Easter miracle with all Your families and Your promise that we will meet in Heaven to continue the celebration!  Amen.