Recently, Sarah and I went to the annual Joni and Friends Family Retreat at the Murrieta Hot Springs. We had a great time as usual. However, on the last day of camp, something happened.

We were in the dining hall eating our breakfast, and then the families were supposed to go pack up in their rooms, and go to the church service at the chapel. Sarah and I had done everything ahead of time, so we took our time eating breakfast and saying good-bye to people. Sarah is very social. She’s the kind of person who really likes to slow down and savor every moment of everything. She’s not in a hurry.

“Don’t let anybody take my food,” she said.

“Okay,” I replied.

While I ate my breakfast, she went around the dining hall to take pictures and give everybody hugs.  Finally, as everyone left the dining hall and went back to their rooms to pack, Sarah still hadn’t touched her breakfast. There was another person there named Rachel. When everyone else left, Sarah, Rachel, and I were the only ones there. The other Rachel taught an art class. We started talking about my books and the possibility of future illustrations. When Sarah was done saying good-bye to the last person leaving the dining hall, we still weren’t done saying good-bye to the campgrounds, or to each other. We wanted to savor the moment even more. After all, Family Retreat only happens once a year. You never know if you’re going to cross paths with the same people again. We went up on the stage and took a picture of the three of us. Rachel and I sang “Awesome God.” We were having such a great time, and Sarah’s food was still on the table. She would get to it eventually.

When we got off the stage, we were just about ready to leave and go to the church service. Sarah looked around for her food. It was gone!  “Ahhh!”  She panicked.

The problem: Sarah is on a special diet and can only eat certain foods. Her plate was full. She didn’t understand why anyone would take it. She talked to someone who was part of the kitchen staff and explained the situation. The kitchen staff went back in the kitchen and talked to the person in charge.

“I guess I learned a lesson,” Sarah said. “Take your food with you wherever you go.” The kitchen staff came out with a box. In the box were hog dogs that had just been microwaved. As we went out to the lobby, Rachel carried the box and asked, “What’s in here?”

“Hot dogs,” Sarah answered. Really, they looked like overcooked sausage links. It wasn’t exactly the best thing for Sarah to eat, but at least it would give her a little bit of protein to hold her over until my mom picked us up and we could stop somewhere.

Rachel couldn’t believe Sarah was really going to eat the hot dogs. They didn’t look good at all! Sarcastically, she remarked, “I like kittens, children, and warm hot dogs.”

Sarah looked at me and said, “Rachael, that would be a great title for a blog or a book.”

“Yeah,” I said in agreement. This was quite a way to end the week. It would certainly be something I would remember.

Mom came and picked us up. Sarah and I both said our last good-byes, and then we got in the car and went to Carl’s Jr. Sarah was finally able to eat something healthy, and we all got home safe and sound.

I’ll never forget how Family Retreat is always full of fun and laughter. It’s a great place to meet great people and develop lasting relationships, and have lots of adventures! You never know what might happen next! I can’t wait until next summer!

“For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Matthew 11:30

    My friend Sarah came over to my house the other day. I was getting ready to go to a funeral. While I was eating my lunch, I was telling Sarah a few things I was worried about and why. Sarah listened for a while, and then she said, “Remember the verse in the Bible where Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me… For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Do you know why Jesus uses that illustration? She asked. Do you know what a yoke is?”

“Yeah, I said. Yoke is that yellow stuff found in eggs.” Sarah burst out laughing! I didn’t know why, but the laughter was contagious. I started laughing. I knew I’d said something wrong. After she settled down, she said, “So all those years you heard that verse, you thought about eggs? That’s priceless!”

Sarah drew me a picture of a yoke and explained, “A yoke is a wooden beam used to hook two animals together to carry a heavy workload. Like horses, oxen, donkeys, etc. The reason why they use the illustration of a yoke in the Bible is because here’s Jesus and here’s you. Jesus is carrying the heavier workload.”

She told me they usually have a picture of it in the history books at school. The funny thing was, if they ever did talk about what a yoke was in school, I certainly didn’t remember. I usually have a pretty good memory, and I’m a visual learner. I guess I missed it somehow.

We laughed about it for the rest of the day. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to keep a straight face the next time I hear that verse.” She said. “The next someone asks you, “how would you like your eggs?” What are you going to tell them? Over easy and light?” I couldn’t say anything. We both just kept laughing. It was one of those things that I should’ve known at my age. For some reason, I didn’t. Oh well, the more important thing is, I know what it is now, and I’ll never forget it! What great times Sarah and I have together!

Dear Jesus,

Thank you for putting good friends in my path that I can learn from. Help me to always depend on you to help me carry the burden. I can’t do it alone. I’m glad you were much smarter than me when you wrote the Bible!

Amen

         

         

We were going along, and everything was just fine. We had no traffic, etc. Then we got closer to the area. We got into Lancaster, and suddenly we didn’t see street names. Instead, we saw letters and numbers. “Avenue K,” Avenue L,” etc.

Sarah said, “For the person who has dyslexia, this is a nightmare because they see everything backwards.” The directions read: “Turn left at Ave. L-8, and our meeting place is on the right.”

 We followed the directions exactly as they were written. We got to the place where we thought the conference was supposed to be. Sarah pulled into the parking lot, but it was empty. Then she called the number they gave us on the paper. We got the answering machine. It turned out to be a number for a media service that was going to be at the conference.

After going around in circles for a few minutes, we finally spotted somebody. Sarah handed the man the paper and he said, “No, you’re looking for Avenue L8-8.” Sarah is a schoolteacher, and I’m a writer, so this was driving us both nuts! Here we were, going to a conference with a bunch of well-known, successful writers, and all the signs in the community were made up of letters and numbers. I couldn’t of picked a more perfect place for a writers’ conference!

They’re very creative here in Lancaster. I thought. Who really needs to go to the conference? Why don’t we bring in the city council, and teach them some creative writing skills?   

This was their seventh annual conference. The people in charge of it had to know what the area was like. Whose idea was it to hold the conference there of all places? And why?

We finally found the church and went in. Sarah explained why we were late. The man at the front door was a pastor. “I’m sorry, he said. They gave you the address of my church.”

Now we were really laughing. Not only were we in a community where all they used was letters, numbers, and dashes, but also the people who made the flyer wrote down the wrong address. The day was just beginning. So far, we were off to a great start!

   Once we got there, we were fine. The conference itself was great. We both loved the biblical emphasis and spiritual encouragement. When it was time to go, we laughed about the directions and street names all the way home. 

”We’re in the land of intelligence. Sarah said sarcastically. If I were on the board, I’d be going crazy. Come on people let’s think!” I laughed in agreement.

“I may still need to learn a few things about writing and getting published, but even I know enough that I could be more creative than that. I could teach Creative Writing 101.” Sarah agreed.

A month later, we’re still laughing about it. I don’t think the laughter will ever end. It’s probably something we’ll talk about forever!

“They must’ve had help from the people on Sesame Street.” I said one day as I fell to the ground laughing. “An Antelope is an animal. If they’re going to call one part Antelope Valley, why don’t they use animal names for the other streets too? Like Centipede Drive or Snake Street?  How about Ladybug Lane? That would be much creative than letters and numbers.”

Sarah and I have spent a lot of time thinking about how we would rewrite the street names on the signs if we lived in the area. What a fun day we had! Not only did we both learn a lot about writing, but it also reminded me to be thankful for a few things.

First, I’m very thankful for a God who was so creative that he “knit me together in my mother’s womb.” Psalm 139 13b (NIV). He also designed the whole universe— both day and night. Talk about creativity!

Secondly, I’m thankful that even though humans aren’t perfect, we have a perfect God who gave us the Bible with perfect instructions for life— if only we will follow them.

Dear Lord,

Thank you for being more creative than I could ever be. Please teach me to be more like you as I learn to follow your will for my life. Help me be a more creative follower in your image who wants to share the gospel with others.

Amen

       * For more information about the conference, visit their website at:www.avwriters.com

 

When I was a little girl, my dad owned the family trucking business. It still exists today. It’s a mail delivery business. Christmas is a very busy time of year for the mail business. Everybody wants to get their cards and packages delivered to their loved ones by Christmas Day. It seemed liked Dad was always working all the time. My sister and I hardly ever saw him. When we did see him, he was very tired—so tired that all he wanted to do was sit still and relax.

Our Christmases with Dad were simple. On Christmas Day, we would get up and watch television, have breakfast, then go into the dining room, and open up our presents and stockings. When we were done, we played with our new toys. That was it. We didn’t go anywhere special, or do anything fancy. We just enjoyed each other’s company. Having Dad there was such a treat, we didn’t need anything else. He was our gift.

In Matthew 2:11, the Bible says, “On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.” (New International Version).

The wise men presented Jesus with their gifts, and them they just enjoyed being in His presence. We live in such a materialistic society, that it’s easy to miss the simplicity of Christmas—the birth of Jesus. Do you have the ultimate gift?

In my family, we celebrate Christmas Eve on my dad’s side. As we prepare for Christmas, one of our favorite traditions is baking cookies. We make two kinds. Sugar cookies, and peanut butter cookies with Hershey’s chocolate in the middle. One year, something very interesting happened.

We went to cousin Nina’s house. It was my mom, my Aunt Kay, my Grandma Benson, Cousin Nina’s two kids Whitney and Mitchell, and myself. We gathered around the kitchen table, got out the proper tools, and got started. First, we started with the sugar cookies. My Grandma Benson stood beside me as she sprinkled the cookie board with sugar, then she took the rolling pin, and rolled out the dough. Then, I took a cookie cutter, placed it on the dough, pressed it down firmly on all sides, and lifted it up. When there wasn’t any more room for cookies, Grandma Benson grabbed a cookie sheet, scooped up the cookies, and put them in the oven.

 We moved on to the peanut butter cookies. My job was to unwrap the Hershey’s kisses that would go in the middle of the little peanut butter balls, and put them in a bowl. Once we had enough Hershey’s kisses, my mother came over with the cookie sheet, placed the chocolate in the middle, and put them in them in the oven.

When it was time to check on the cookies, Cousin Nina noticed a problem. “Hey guys, Come look at this.” The adults walked over to the oven.

“The peanut butter dough spread.”  She said.

“Oh yeah, it did spread.  Aunt Kay replied. That’s strange.” Everyone was puzzled. This was definitely a first! Nothing like that ever happened before. By this time, our family had been doing this for years. We followed the same routine every year.  If something was wrong, we should be able to figure it out-—right?

It wasn’t until the next day that we figured out what happened. My mom opened up both containers. The peanut butter cookies smelled like sugar cookies, and the sugar cookies smelled like peanut butter cookies. The adults switched the cookie dough! When we figured out what happened, we laughed. How did such a silly thing happen? I thought. The funniest part was, Aunt Kay was our taste tester and she failed us! How do you miss something like that?

When we did it, we had a great time, and we were together. It was something everyone enjoyed. We still do it today. Just because it didn’t turn out the way we expected, it still blessed our time together as a family.

Sometimes, it can be very difficult, being in a wheelchair, trying to get people to pay attention to your comings and goings. Beep! Beep! I attend Grace Baptist Church in Santa Clartia, California. One of my favorite memories, in my late teens, is when I joined the choir called Living Proof; I sang for five years Every year at Thanksgiving weekend, our church hosted an Advent celebration: dinner, skits, music, and handmade Advent wreaths!  It prepared our hearts for Christmas, and reminded us of the true meaning of the season.

 For a couple years in a row, our choir provided the music. When it was time to get on stage, I would carefully edge my through the crowds trying not to run over any toes.

Even though, I would say,“ Excuse me!” Excuse me!” in my loudest voice, people just weren’t paying attention! Finally, the choir director’s wife helped me.

“Hot coffee! Hot coffee! Hot coffee coming through!” She yelled. Suddenly, everybody moved out of the way real fast, and I was able to get on stage!

 It took the right vocabulary to get people’s attention. No one moved when I said, “Excuse me” because it was too polite. However, when she yelled, “Hot coffee!” everyone moved because they were all afraid of getting burned!  From that night on, Instead of saying, “Excuse me,” I yell, “Hot coffee!” and it works! Everybody moves, and I chuckle!

The same principle applies to us as Christians. We are called to be lights in a darkened world. You never know what’s going on in someone’s personal life. Seeing you might be the only time a person sees Jesus. Using just the right vocabulary can either turn their heart toward Jesus or away from Jesus. Sometimes the words, “I’m praying for you” are exactly what someone needs to hear, just to know that God is present in their circumstances and loves them. What does your life say for Jesus, today? What kind of memories will you leave that will lighten others’ darkened world?

Dear Lord,

Help me use the right words that I may be a light for You in a darkened world.

Amen

Hi, I’m Gus.  I work here at Carousel Ranch. I’m a horse.  I give riding lessons to people with disabilities. You might say I’m the therapist. A lot of people have their own ideas about riding a horse, but I thought it would be interesting for the humans if they heard what a lesson at Carousel Ranch is like from the horse’s perspective.  Here’s the inside look into my head during a riding lesson.  Ready? Hold on tight. Neigh!

            It’s ‘one ‘o’clock on a Wednesday. It’s time for Rachael Benson’s lesson.   Oh boy, here she comes! She’s one of my favorites. She always has a smile on her face.  Usually, we spend the entire half hour walking around in the arena, but today, her riding instructor, Eileen, asked her if she wanted to go for a trail ride.

Rachael walks up to the platform and gets on me. Scott closes the gate behind us and we head on up the trail. As we head up, Rachael and Eileen start singing songs and talking about things only humans can understand.

            Suddenly, I hear them laughing.  Rachael is laughing so hard that she can’t control her body and falls forward on to my mane. Ouch! That hurts!

What’s so funny? I wonder. I wish I could understand human conversation. Whatever the joke is, it must be pretty good. Rachael pushes herself back up and we keep going on up the trail.

            Soon, I start to get hungry and try to head toward a plant. Scott pulls me away from it. “No Gus, not now,” he says.

You don’t really mean that.I think to myself. I try again. This time, I bend my head all the way down.  I want that plant! Again, Scott pulls me away from it. “No Gus! Dinner time is later.”

            I finally realize I’m not going to get what I want, and give up. I neigh as if to say, “Okay fine!” and we move on.

Suddenly, as we start to go down hill a little bit, there’s an awkward silence. It takes a lot of concentration for Rachael to stay in the center. We get down the hill, and Rachael and Eileen start talking again. About what, I have no idea. After all —I am a horse.

Finally, Eileen looks at her watch and tells Rachael It’s time to go home. We head back toward the ranch and Rachael gets off of me.

            As she walks away, she says, “Bye Gus, I’ll see you next week.”  I neigh as if to say, “Bye Rachael.” She giggles. I may not understand much about humans, but if there’s one thing I do know, it’s when they’re happy. Her giggle lets me know she understands me. She has such a friendly laugh!

            After I say bye to her, I realize something. I have a purpose here at Carousel Ranch. My purpose is to bring joy to people with disabilities and their families. Maybe I didn’t get the food on the trail I was hoping for, but that’s okay. The smile on Rachael’s face makes my job worthwhile. That’s good enough for me. I look forward to seeing her every week!

* Carousel Ranch is always looking for volunteers! If you’re interested in helping or would like to know more about the program, visit their website at: http://www.carouselranch.org/

 

I volunteer at my local hospital. I’m known as the “patient visitations” volunteer but I have many names. Nurses and doctors who have known me for a while and know what I do say, “Here comes the magazine lady.”

 Personally, I like to call myself, “the unexpected visitor.”

At the hospital, I knock on a patient’s door. When I hear “come in,” I enter with a big smile on my face as I say, “Hi, my name is Rachael. I volunteer here. Would you like a magazine? It’s free.”

     Patients are often surprised when I say that – for a couple of reasons. One reason is that they can’t believe something free is being offered to them. Once a patient answered, “What a delight.” 

 The other reason people are often surprised is because I’m in a wheelchair, and I have cerebral palsy. Many people are surprised by the fact that someone with a disability is out in the community, let alone out contributing to society. They wonder how I can help others when it looks as if I need help myself. They might also wonder why I’d want to help others.  No one says anything, but it’s obvious that people don’t know how to react because I’m in a wheelchair. Silently, their first reaction seems to be, What is she doing here?  

My wheelchair starts conversation. People will ask, “What kind of illness do you have?”

            “It’s not an illness,” I tell them. “It’s a condition.  It’s called cerebral palsy. I was born this way. I have a walker at home. I use the wheelchair in the community for faster mobility.”

People are also surprised by my openness and my ability to communicate. It makes them want to know more. A doctor may have told their patient that they’re going to have to start using a wheelchair at home. They’ve never had to use a wheelchair before, and now they want to know what it’s like.

“It takes a lot of practice,” I tell them. “It’s like learning how to drive a car. Even if you’ve been driving for years, every time you get a new car, you have to learn how that particular one works because each one is different. It takes time and patience. But once you get the hang of it, you can do it.”

At the end of a visit people are encouraged. Seeing me in my wheelchair often gives patients and their families the assurance they need that everything is going to be okay.  Many times someone will say to me, “Thanks for coming by.”

“You’re welcome.” I reply.  “I’m glad to be of service.”

People also say, “God Bless you.”

I smile and say, “Thank you.”

Volunteering at the hospital reminds me to be thankful for what I have.  Some patients I visit don’t have any family at all, or their families live too far away to come visit them. I may be the only person they see besides a doctor or a nurse. If they want to talk, I’m usually the only one who has time to sit and listen to them. For these patients I call myself, “the unexpected visitor.” If I didn’t come visit them, who would? I’m able to brighten someone else’s day. It’s my pleasure. 

Volunteering at the hospital and visiting patients also gives me a sense of fulfillment. People are always looking for ways to help me because of my disability. When I’m volunteering, it’s the other way around. I’m able to show them that having a disability doesn’t mean they can’t be a productive member of society. Even if they suddenly have to adjust to a lifetime in a wheelchair, they can still do the things they used to do, maybe just a little bit differently. I’m able to get people to start thinking, If this girl can do it, and she was born this way, then what’s stopping me?

I always say that I was born with extra determination. If someone asks me, “Rachael, don’t you thinks this is a little dangerous?” I look at them and say, “Danger is my middle name!”

It makes people laugh as they reply, “Well then, go for it!”

     That’s how I strive to live my life, and I try to communicate that to the people in my community. If you really want to accomplish something, nothing is impossible! Go for it!