
Even as my youngest child is almost done with grad school, this time of year is steeped in memories and feelings of those first days of school. August seems to roar into a frenzy of lasts of the summer and new approaching chapters. For our family, each year was different. We had seasons of sheer happiness going to school and others that were filled with anxiety and sadness. There were concretes, like the supply list, but countless unknowns, such as new teachers, subjects, and friends.
As parents or people who love the children in their lives, we want to take away the fears and pressures to create the perfect environment for our children to thrive. Oh, that we could! As we have experienced so frequently in our lives, there are detours and countless bumps. The road is blurry, and we can’t see the end. We can be their light, comfort, and guide, but we can’t clear the entire path.
The good news is that in the unknowing, we can leave space for God to act, and we can pay attention to the ways God is already acting. There is peace when we take moments to let go of our need for control, find patience, and allow ourselves to find the goodness of God. Our backpack tags this year are a reminder that the peace that passes all understanding is not only for us but to pass that peace to those around us.
As the new school year takes shape, we pray for all the children, teachers, staff, families, and care givers who are heading into this season of transition.
“O God, we give our own worries and desire for control to you. May we find peace in the unknown. Thank you for the gift of the first day of school and for all the days to come. May the children we love learn and grow, and may we learn and grow too. Teach us how to love you and our neighbor more every day. Amen.” (Adapted from “A Prayer for the First Day of School” in To Light Their Way by Kayla Craig)
Peace be upon you,
Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation

I’m in a unique position compared to many people. I know exactly where my family came from and when they arrived in the United States in every branch of my family, in every generation. In addition to that, I’ve participated in DNA testing services that give me a map of where my family is most likely to come from.
Usually, the tree of people I can name matches up with the DNA results. I can see exactly which generation came from England in the 17th century and were among the first settlers to expand into the wild west of Ohio, building on land that had been recently inhabited by Native Americans. Many of them left titles like “Sir” and “Lord” behind and took up roles like “Captain” and “General” to revolt against a tyrannical government. One of my ancestors, Nathan Hale, even spied for the newly formed United States.
In another branch, I can look at more recent family immigrations. One of my great-uncles was a guard for Kaiser Wilhelm of Prussia and convinced the entire family to flee to the U.S. when the German Empire fell in 1918. The family went on to run successful grocery stores, but public sentiment about German immigrants was pretty negative in some places. The “progressive” German views about allowing women to perform public roles, like serving beer at a pub, were enough to label them as leftists.
When I look at my DNA map, I see a few areas I can’t find other evidence for. My ethnically diverse features come from Southern Italy and Portugal, but I can’t name any family members from any generation who come from those places. That means at some point, some family members from Portugal or Italy migrated to England or Germany and claimed the new citizenship for their own, so that when I look at their records, I only see their new home countries represented.
I think I’m a pretty typical American mutt. I have some really cool people in my family tree who got here from different places at different times. Their prestige fizzled over time – I certainly didn’t inherit any titles or money. I would go as far as to say many of my family members are considerably worse people than my immigrant ancestors. My family has added some felons and drug addicts to the tree. But overall, they tend to be treated better than current immigrants who come to the United States now to escape the problems in other countries so they can scrape out a better life.
We are a nation built by immigrants. From the earliest settlers to those arriving today, each wave has shaped our society, bringing with them unique cultures, traditions, and hopes.
Jesus consistently challenged his followers to extend compassion and hospitality beyond the conventional boundaries of his day. In the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), Jesus intentionally chose an outsider, a Samaritan, to be the hero who showed mercy to a wounded traveler. This parable reminds us that our neighbor is not just someone who looks like us or shares our background, but anyone in need, regardless of their origin or perceived status.
For Lutherans, this often translates into a commitment to social justice and caring for the vulnerable. When we look at the immigrant experience through this lens, we are called to see the inherent dignity and worth of every individual, to recognize their struggles, and to respond with empathy and action.
The Apostle Paul, in his letter to the Galatians (3:28), declared, "There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." This radical assertion of equality in Christ dissolves societal distinctions and calls us to a unity that transcends national borders, ethnic heritage, and social standing. It’s a powerful reminder that in God's eyes, there are no "mutts" or "purebreds" – only beloved children.
My family’s journey, like countless others, is a testament to the enduring hope that draws people to new lands. While my ancestors might have faced skepticism, their integration was, in many cases, smoother than what some immigrants experience today. As Christians, and particularly as Lutherans, we are called to be advocates for justice, to welcome the stranger, and to participate in building a society where all people can find safety, opportunity, and belonging. This isn't a political stance. We can have our own understandings of what the government’s role should be for immigration. Instead, this is a profound expression of our faith and a living out of Jesus' command to love our neighbor as ourselves.
Yours in Christ,
John Johns, Music Director

Three simple words that have completely dominated my week this week. BE THE LIGHT.
Seems easy, right?
Mark 5:16 says, “In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”
Okay, no problem!
This week I traveled with 34 others to Harlan, Kentucky to spend the week with Appalachia Service Project (ASP) working to make homes warmer, safer, and drier for families in need. On the surface, that seems like an easy way to check off the may your good deeds glorify your father in heaven portion of Mark. But it turns out that helping others—and being the light—can be harder than it sounds.
Teams spent hours learning brand-new skills to be able to roof houses, lay insulation, and replace siding this week. I learned how to replace a ceiling and hang drywall. As a STEM teacher, I am great at reading books to my students about construction and architecture, but to actually hang a piece of drywall—That is not my gift!
Spending a week totally out of your comfort zone makes doing good deeds feel more like stumbling in the dark. And believe me there were plenty of moments I felt that way.
But when I look back on each day in Harlan it is not the confusion or imperfections I remember. It’s not the moments I didn’t know what I was doing. I think about watching youth I’ve known since their Sunday School years step into leadership roles, now as young adults, encouraging me and teaching me how to build a wall.
I think about members of our congregation—some I rarely see because we attend different services—coming together to move rolls of roofing materials down hills to their housing project. I think about holding up a sheet of drywall while my own son, now one of those young adults, screws it into place, building a ceiling for the very first time, alongside me. And I think about the families we’re helping—building four new bedrooms so their children will have warm, safe beds to sleep in.
Sometimes it’s easier to focus on the darkness when you are doing hard things. But it turns out, it’s the Light that transforms the darkness. And without darkness, we wouldn’t even recognize the need for light.
And this week I watched 34 people BE the LIGHT—through hard work, sweat, and unconditional love—and it made us shine even BRIGHTER.
Living, sharing, and celebrating!
Danielle Beneteau

For years, when I visited my mom I would often page through a little book called 500 Things Your Minister Tried To Tell You… But The Guy Sitting Next To You Was Snoring So Loud You Couldn’t Hear. It was a little book filled with churchy sayings, motivational Bible verses, and profound theological one liners. A real page turner!
One visit, I was stunned by the message from Mildred Bangs Wynkoop for me – for us:
“Every generation needs to rethink, restate, and creatively apply its theological heritage
to its own situation. In this way the heritage stays vital and relevant.”
Wynkoop, an educator, pastor, missionary in Japan, and seminary professor in the Church of the Nazarene tradition, knew the importance of ongoing assessment and clarification. She spent her life interpreting and translating her faith tradition for new generations. She knew that only dwelling in the past, with no consideration of context and a changing culture, would see the rapid evaporation of her heritage.
As Lutheran Christians, we have a powerful theological heritage and worldview. Grounded in the Bible, we were birthed out of the protests in the 1500s, as Martin Luther prioritized God’s love and God’s action as primary in the Story of salvation. We are saved by grace through faith. It is a gift of God (Ephesians 2:8).
We embrace the mysteries of God that dwell in paradox, recognizing that we are both saint and sinner at the same time. God’s Word is law and gospel at the same time. We live in two kingdoms – a kingdom of God and a kingdom of humanity – at the same time. By the grace of God we live as free people, yet we are bound to serve – at the same time. We believe that God is still speaking, working, and dwelling among us through the power of the Holy Spirit.
This way of thinking and living positions us well for this season of faith and life when we’re asking ourselves complex questions related to global unrest, polarizing political strife, wars and rumors of war, unrelenting disease, violent weather, and senseless suffering. “Who is my neighbor? What are our priorities? How do we need to live differently? How do I celebrate my civil liberties and still care for those around me?” Our Lutheran Christian perspective and voice is crucial during these uncertain days.
One of the songs we often sing at 10 am worship on Sunday morning gives us direction and is lifted from the Bible verses found in Micah 6:8:
“God has shown you, O mortal, what is good.
And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.”
I’m grateful that Holy Scripture tells us that not only does God require these things of us, but that they are GOOD! Justice is good. Mercy is good. Humility and kindness and compassion are good. We know this, but we so often forget.
Let this be a reminder. We are called to love and care for our neighbors near and far. What this looks like may shift from generation to generation or even from week to week. Right now, work for justice, fully embrace mercy, and cultivate a life of humility. These are some of the ways that God’s love spills out into the world.
Still working on loving my neighbor,
Pastor Lowell
This blog has been adapted from a Lord of Life blog originally posted July 16, 2020.

Some people love it so much they choose to live a life of constant change. For example, people who choose to sell all their worldly possessions and travel the world living in a van or a boat. Then there are those of us who enjoy change or can move fluidly with the change, but maybe in a smaller way: a new job, remodeling/painting, a new car, etc. Then there is one final group: those of us who are totally and completely uncomfortable with any change, even if it is necessary, good, or right.
I fall into the latter group, completely uncomfortable with change every step of the way, even if I know it’s needed, even if I want the change to happen. I have recently found myself in what feels like a state of never-ending change. In May, I left my job as Behavioral Health Specialist at Cincinnati Children’s to become the director of Lord of Life Christian Preschool (LOLCP), our middle daughter graduated from Pre-K, and our 3 girls came home for the summer. In June, I began my new career as director of LOLCP, took on co-leading the Leaders In Training program at Vacation Bible School, became a Girl Scout Camp unit leader for the first time, and my husband took a new job. I am currently surrounded by change, and I would be lying if I said I was just rolling with it without anxiety and resistance.
I have been spending time in prayer, reflecting on change, and reflecting on my word for the year from the women’s retreat this year: discernment. I know all of these decisions have been carefully considered, evaluated, planned: discerned. So, I keep coming back to the question of why I question the change. Why do I resist the change I know is good and right? Why do so many of us struggle with change? I think it is because of the unknown, the uncomfortableness that first comes with any change, the unsettling feeling of all the normalcy you once felt being wiped away, and the new routines being put in place.
What does God say about change? These two verses stick with me in times of change and give me comfort and peace in knowing God is with me. Jeremiah 29:11 says, "For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” Joshua 1:9 invites us, “Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Although I am still on a journey to fully accept change, I am able to find comfort in the day to day knowing God is with me and is guiding me to a beautiful future.
I invite you to reflect on change and your outlook. Are you like me and find yourself always uncomfortable in seasons of change? Are you a person who craves, wants, and likes changes? Does discernment come easy for you? How can God guide you in your journeys through change?
Journeying through discernment,
Nicole Wells

Have you ever woken up with a stiff neck? For many of us, this stiffness quickly passes and then we’re back up to speed. But for others, you live with chronic and debilitating pain. This ongoing aggravating condition hinders your mobility and quality of life.
Some years ago, when I was traveling for a living, I had some neck and back issues. I self-diagnosed my condition. Too many beds in different towns with not enough sleep and exercise. I tried all sorts of pillows and sleeping methods, but nothing worked. A friend offered a word about chiropractic care. “What? No way.” My only experience with chiropractic was the wacky ways it was portrayed in TV and film with some big dude crackin’ your already sore neck, making things worse. It looked like a strange mumbo-jumbo. But after six months of debilitating pain and several other attempts to manage the pain, I had no other choice.
During my initial visit, the doctor explained what he thought was happening, showing me a model of the spine and how everything was connected – not only my vertebrae, but also the spinal column that flows through the middle of it all. A few things out of alignment were messing everything else up, too. “If any of this is out of whack,” he explained, “then the whole system is compromised.” Although independent parts and pieces within my body, all of these are dependent on one another.
This weekend, July 4th, is the time when we celebrate our independence as the United States of America. We grill brats, play backyard games, and watch fireworks as we give thanks for our freedom. Even as we sing and speak those words of freedom and independence, though, we also need to hear – we need to be reminded - about our interdependence. We, the Body of Christ, the human family, are one interconnected and interdependent body that needs an adjustment. Not an attitude adjustment – well maybe we need that, too – but we were created to live and move and operate in a better way.
We were created to rely on one another and God. Our interdependence is not an option. I need you. You need me. We need others. We need God. When we have a stiff neck or a calcified and unflinching heart, we aren’t able to fully embrace how God is on the move in our world. We aren’t able to recognize the needs of those around us. Instead, we spend all of our time trying to hold God in one place – right in front of us for our own purposes.
In the book of Acts, the first-century community needed a chiropractor’s touch. It may have begun in their necks – a stiffness making them unable or unwilling to look around and function normally – but by the time we get to chapters 6 and 7, the religious leaders were having all sorts of additional problems. They couldn’t turn their heads to see the need around them. As the paralysis lingered, they were losing any sort of perspective and weren’t able to recognize the continuing movement of the Spirit of God. Their inflexibility was obscuring their outlook on life and on what God was doing beyond their little circumference. God was on the move, but they couldn’t begin to see it.
I’ve always read this section as a harsh word from Stephen: “You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you are forever opposing the Holy Spirit” (Acts 7:51). But what if, instead of a harsh word, it is a diagnosis? Could this be one sick person recommending a physician to others who are showing similar symptoms? This crick in the spine wasn't just an inconvenience that would wear off by mid-morning. This was a malady that was growing worse. It was preventing them from being able to live and move as they needed for just basic living.
I don’t know if you recognize any stiffness in your neck or heart, but I’m confident that God is eager to increase your range of motion and longing to restore you to wholeness. Jesus is freedom. What kind of freedom are you seeking? Freedom from failure and imperfection? Freedom from fear and hate? Freedom from anxiety and control issues? It may be a simple adjustment that gives you instant relief or it might be a long series of steps to health. Your dependence on Jesus and others is a gift.
Celebrating our dependence,
Pastor Lowell

Vacation Bible School (VBS) songs are meant to stick with you. Those earworm songs that you find yourself singing in your head constantly or embarrassingly out loud throughout the day. While we sang some great ones in the True North this past week, “Calm the Storm” seems to be the one that has been ruminating in my head.
Is it because of the busyness of this past month, uncertainty about future life events, the upheaval in the world, or the combination of it all? My mind seems to be all over the place or stuck in one area. It’s been a struggle to keep brewing clouds from overtaking the trust that I have that Jesus will always lead me through the storms.
“Calm the Storm” seems to be a fitting reminder of trusting in Jesus in all of life’s circumstances. The song reflects the story of Jesus calming the storm after he woke up on the boat (Matthew 8:23-27). It’s a great story to explore Jesus’ identity, an example of what trusting him looks like, and the very normal confusion and wonder of the disciples in the discovery of faith. God is unshakable in all storms and forever faithful to us as we practice putting our trust in God alone.
This month, as we are living into God’s call to truly love and welcome all both in Pride and VBS, there have been beautiful examples of trusting God to equip us in the storms. At Hamilton Pride, faithful and prepared counter-protesters were ready to block any hate groups that appeared at the festival. They were there to calm the storm that could be volatile, dangerous, and hurtful. Clergy and other people of faith were trusting that their message of God’s love would quell the abhorrent messages. Amazingly, the hate groups never came. Did our cloud of rainbow umbrellas and powerful but peaceful stand against them last year leave a lasting impression? That’s the power to calm the storm that actions rooted in the teachings of Jesus evokes.
At VBS, there was a group that was truly a storm of energy and spirit. While we try our best to balance groups with a mix of kids and their adult and youth helpers, we never quite know how the combination will turn out. While we didn’t know, God certainly did, as the perfect leaders were assigned to this little band of energy. The adults and teens were unflappable in their ability to roll with the waves and lighting bolts of this group. They cared for the kids in the fullness of their spirits and relished in their uniqueness. The leaders embraced the storm with joy and trusted that Jesus would keep them in his care. Those children felt God’s love embodied in their leaders.
What storm is brewing in your life? How can the image of Jesus calming the storm and asking the disciples to trust in him change your perspective? At VBS this past week, trusting in Jesus enveloped us every day: Trusting when we wonder, when we feel alone, when we feel powerless, and when we need help.
Praying that my ear worm persists and that I have now passed it along to you (“Calm the Storm” by Jonathan Rundman). Jesus is the ever present force in our lives that we can truly trust to “Calm the Storm”.
God’s peace always,
Angie Seiller, Director of Faith Formation