All Categories - trish hermanson

My 5G Network to Power Me Through Tough Times

1/1/2023

     Brrrrr! As our country is emerging from its deep freeze, I thought of this watercolor my friend Christine Jackson created that she titled “Waiting for the Thaw.” The painting portrays a frozen, barren landscape waiting for spring. It reminds me of other thaws we may be waiting for as we enter this New Year. Like a thaw in a relationship that’s chilled - I have several of those. Or a thaw in a career that’s frozen. Or health that’s on ice. Or the defrosting in national and international events we long for.
     Really, the world is a mess, and in many ways we are, too. As I wait for various thaws, I’m relying on a personal 5G network to power me through. Here are my 5Gs I seek to exercise: I’m GRIEVING over the state of the world and over personal losses; but I’m GRATEFUL to God for all that is good; I’m GROWING in understanding; I’m GIVING however I can toward the welfare of others; And I’m GRINNING as I remember that this tired world is someday going to be remade. Wrongs will be righted. Justice will prevail. Those who hear God beckoning and say “yes” to him will be remade, too.
  Grieving. Grateful. Growing. Giving. Grinning.That will power me through as I wait for the ultimate thaw.

Not a Silent Night

12/22/2022

It was not a silent night with all calm and bright when Jesus was born. It was a war zone! Picture a woman crying in pain as she is about to give birth, and an enormous red dragon standing there waiting to devour her child. That’s what Jesus’ friend John recorded from a frightening vision that some interpret as the behind-the-scenes nativity story.
     Back to the woman and the dragon: God snatched up the newborn to protect him. Then all hell broke loose in heaven. An army of angels fought against the dragon - Satan - and his troops and hurled them down to earth.
     Perhaps it was then that a battle-scarred angel ripped open the curtain between heaven and earth and terrified some sleepy shepherds. A platoon of heavenly warriors burst into a victory chant: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”
     And that little town of Bethlehem? “How still we see thee lie?” That didn’t last. King Herod feared that a new king had been born to take his throne, so he ordered the slaughter of babies there. Bethlehem wept with grief for a generation. But God had warned Jesus’ family, and they fled to safety in Egypt.
     “Silent night. All is calm. All is bright?” No way! Jesus’ birth and survival were at the front line of a cosmic battle that spilled onto earth. And God won, giving us a savior who is Christ the Lord!

Deck the Halls with Boughs of "Folly?"

12/6/2022

We didn’t plan to deck the halls with boughs of “folly” this year, but that’s what happened.
     Our oldest grandchildren who usually helped us trim the artificial tree weren’t available. So we tapped three younger, untrained grandkids.
     I turned on Christmas carols, and with more enthusiasm than understanding the kids assembled branches on the tree - but upside down. I hadn’t thought to tell them about that. Then they didn’t quite hear my instructions about color-coded branches, and they positioned the shortest ones on the bottom - an upside down tree. No longer was I calm and bright. One of them had to dive underneath and replace lower branches with longer ones.
     A competition heated up over who would hang the star upon the highest bough. While others placed ornaments, one sneaked up a step stool and set the star. Any joy to the world I’d felt evaporated. I told him, “You got to do that, so the others get to arrange the manger scene.” That was the next big prize in their minds. I thought of a number between one and ten, and the one who came closest went first in the setup, followed by the other.
  Somehow the tree turned out looking better than Charlie Brown’s, and we’d made a good memory. But conflicts and mess-ups reminded me that in everything, even Christmas decorating, we need Jesus to teach us how to love each other. We need a savior.

What Is 'Cool' Anyway?

11/8/2022

That’s my grandson Oak and me outside his home in South Carolina that his parents are renting while his dad completes research at a local university. When I told Oak his house is cool, he said, “But it’s old.” I answered, “Old can be cool; just look at me.” He said nothing, and from the next room, my daughter and husband burst out laughing.
What defines coolness anyway? Take, for example, their Neo-Georgian house. It shows wear and tear from seven decades of living, but its stately architecture sets it apart in a timeless way. The house would be diminished if its owner tried to make it hip by slapping on gray, industrial-looking paint and adding gray-plank flooring, the current trend.
So what about me? I’m the same age as this house and show wear and tear, too. What would happen if I adopted the current fashion of tats and tattered jeans? I’d look ridiculous! Instead, what if I live comfortably in the architecture of grace I’ve gained through my lifetime? The grace of skills developed through careers. Of humility acquired through tears. Of peace wrestled through fears. Of wisdom honed through years. Then I’d be wearing a timeless cool.
How about you? What patina have you developed that gives you a timeless cool?

Bushwhacking a Trail for Those Who Come After

10/19/2022

I dodged trucks on the asphalt road leading to the trail along the creek nearby. Uninspiring! So I decided to bushwhack a new path through an unexplored open space next to the road. With hiking boots and a cudgel I set out to carve a new course. What would I find?
     After slashing through a thicket of thistles, I entered a grove. Surprise - three deer stared at me, then pranced off. High above, a bird serenaded me. Crickets added a rhythmic chorus. Delightful!    I crawled over skeletons of fallen trees, then I faced two ravines thick with bushes. It took a few tries, but I whacked through them.
     I traversed a prairie, stepped over a drainage ditch, and waded through tall grasses, picking up cockleburs. Then I wended through a patch of milkweed and finally reached the familiar dirt path by the creek.This was so much more inspiring than the asphalt road.
     When I led grandsons along my new Bushwhack Trail, they were like mountain goats scaling the fallen trees and scampering through the steep ravines. I realized I’m simply the pioneer here, opening a way for those who come after me. They’ll go farther and faster.
  Others have opened up opportunities for me in the past. Now it’s my turn. How about you? What trails can you blaze for others?