A better name, however, may be stupid phones. I’m afraid that as technology gets smarter, we get duller.

Smart phones may come with a price

This disturbing trend became obvious with the popularity of GPS mapping devices. The little gadgets fit right on the dashboard on the car. You type in the address where you want to go and it tells you road by road, turn by turn exactly how to get there. You don’t even have to look at it, a voice tells you when and where to move your vehicle.

Traveling with someone who had a GPS unit once proved invaluable when we got lost in an unfamiliar city, so I do not discount the value of these route finders. But I do worry plenty about people who rely solely on the voice out of the dashboard and don’t turn on the voice in their head.

A friend was driving down the highway several months ago when suddenly, an SUV made a U-turn and ran right into her. Why would the driver do something like that? The computer voice told her she was going the wrong way and said to turn around, that’s why. One shudders to think what would happen if the unit was having a bad day and told her to drive off a cliff.

Young drivers are especially dependent on these devises to the extent that they can’t tell top from bottom on a road map. My co-workers to laugh at me in the newsroom because I gave “country directions.” These would include phrases like “go to the big red barn on the hill, turn north and go ‘til you cross the creek.” The preferred method by young reporters was to call up a program, type the address into the search engine and get bland directions like “drive 2.6 miles, turn left.” No thinking required. Until the bridge is washed out, then how are these drivers ever going to find their way around?

It’s not just about navigating geography. Having to use your brain to figure out everyday problems equips us to deal with bigger problems in life, to develop the confidence and skills to change direction when the path we’re on bottoms out.

A driving instructor remarked that some teenagers have no concept of how to maneuver local streets. Since they were very young, they sat in the car with a movie playing for entertainment. As a result, they do not pay attention to their parent driving or the passing landscape, so they are lost when they have to find their way around. I guess that’s where the GPS comes in.

We trust computers more than we trust our own instincts. Migrating geese have a better sense of direction than most Americans; who does that make the real bird brain?

I was at a meeting last week where we planned out several events by writing on the board at the front of the room. After we were done, the leader asked if we had it written down before he erased it.

“Just a minute,” one of our group said. He hopped out of his chair and used his phone to take a photograph of the board. Then he emailed the photo to each of us. We had the info without the tiresome labor of actually writing or remembering.

Another handy use for a smart phone: When you go to a big parking lot, don’t bother to remember where you parked, take a picture of the row number.

Even though out of necessity I keep careful track of my checkbook balance, I don’t fret if I lose track every once in awhile, I’ll just look it up through online banking. My dad can do figures much faster in his head than I can. I’ve never been good at math and have come to rely almost exclusively on calculators. Spelling was a weekly test all through grade school, but Google and spell check now do that work for me.

I don’t think technology is making us stupid, but it is an enabler in our tendency to go there. No longer do I have to put in all the effort of having calling a friend, expressing interest and having a genuine conversation. I just turn on Facebook and it feeds me everything I need to know about my friends. At least it creates that perception. When I left a job several months ago, some people were shocked that they didn’t find out long after the fact. As it turns out, not everyone posts every detail of their life online, it still takes some savvy to get the good gossip.

It’s true that we have very smart phones. That may be a dumb mistake.

The song “Joy Ride” was an upbeat tune with shades of spiritual themes, like the line “the scent of grace in the air, mercy blowing through our hair.”

Chris Filer

This was my new theme song. I would take a “Joy Ride.” I looked it up on the internet and learned it was written and recorded by Chris Filer. Chris and his family own a soybean seed business in Harrisonville, Mo., and he is vice president of the Missouri Soybean Association. His songs have strong roots in farming and faith. When I learned Chris would be in concert with Easton Corbin in Jefferson City this summer, I knew I had to go. I bought a copy of the album “When It Don’t Come Easy” and have been cranking it out of my stereo every since.

Chris Filer’s music is very good. Not “good for a Missouri soybean farmer” good, but “good as anything coming out of Nashville today” good. Even better.

The second release from the album is “John Deere John 3:16.” It fits solidly in the vein of current songs about small town living, but Chris adds a sincerity that gives it a convincing staying power.

This is certainly country music with a Christian bent, not Christian music with a country flavor, but all the songs have a positive message in one way or another. “Say Goodbye” is about a fighting couple who decide to say goodbye — to their old habits and make a fresh start. The message in “Not To the Grave” is so powerful, sometimes I can’t even listen to it.

A fun favorite is “Do The Math,” which I dare you to listen to and not tap your toes. “The River” is a moving spiritual number that highlights Chris’ versatility as a musician.

Chris and his brother wrote many of the songs on the album and their depth shines through. I’ve long admired

the efficiency of songwriters who can say so much in just a few words and the Filer brothers are some of the best.

Take this line from “Joy Ride:” “It’s been awhile since these miles have been a friend.” There’s a rich variety  on the album that keeps it from getting routine, featuring songs from several writers.

I’m not sophisticated in musicality, but I do know there’s a lot going on in these songs. It was recorded in Nashville with top-notch musicians. At the fair in Jefferson City, Chris played with his own band. It was obvious they were having a good time and  were much better than anything I’ve ever heard at a county fair. It seems I’m well on my way to being a Chris Filer groupie!

You can order a copy of “When It Don’t Come Easy” from Chris’ website. “John Deere John 3:16″ is playing on many radio stations. I’m going to be enjoying this CD for a long time and you’ll want to get one too, so you can hit play on your own “Joy Ride.”

By Jacki Wood
Nodaway News Leader

A random conversation on a mission trip several years ago sparked an idea. And that idea eventually blossomed into Susan Mires’ recently published novel, “To Seek and Save.”

Mires, a Maryville High School and Northwest Missouri State University graduate, was working as the business editor at the St. Joseph News-Press at the time.

“We were on a mission trip with my church group and we were sitting around chatting one evening,” she said. “I had mentioned how the newspaper is only good for one day til the next one comes out, then the paper – and all my hard work – gets thrown out in the trash.”

Her associate pastor, Gary Mathes, suggested that she write a book.

“He added he’d often thought of writing a story about a small town pastor,” she said. “We started trading ideas. I don’t think anyone else thought we were serious, but we were.”

After four years, with Mathes working mainly on the plot and Mires doing the writing and dialogue, the two published the fictional murder mystery this past June. Set in a small Ozark town near Springfield, the book follows a pastor’s search for a murderer.

“When we started out, it was just to write a book to see if we could,” she said. “Now, after hearing from readers, I believe this book has an uplifting message.”

And even though it took a lot of time, labor, writing and rewriting – and learning – Mires said she is pleased with the outcome and the process.

“It has been a blessing to work with Gary and his family on the project and to have so many of my friends and family help out, too,” she said. “I hope they enjoy reading it and can be entertained and enriched because of our efforts.”

Mires is a freelance writer and lives in St. Joseph. Her column, “Reflections on the River,” appears in the Nodaway News Leader, where she previously worked during college.

Prior to the book, she published a short story in “Chicken Soup for the Soul: What I learned from the dog.” She is also currently working on a historical novel set in St. Joseph. Mathes has served as a minister for 23 years and is currently the associate pastor of Green Valley Baptist Church in St. Joseph. He has also previously produced three music albums.

“To Seek and Save” is available at the Nodaway News Leader for $14 or a copy can be mailed for $16.50 by contacting Mires at susan@susanmires.com.

Former ATF agent Susannah Tait arrives in Mobile, Alabama, with an assignment as an insurance investigator to prove that pyrotechnic artist Quinn Baldwin was responsible for a million-dollar fireworks explosion.

Click here to purchase Firewworks

Susannah starts out in fine fashion, but is a bit disarmed by the Southern hospitality of her landlady, as well as the unexpected kindness of the object of her investigation. Quinn is a true Southern hero, with a shyness, thrill for the danger of fireworks and a grin you can feel right through the pages. It is quite fun to discover with Susannah some of the pecularities of life in Mobile, as Miss Elva Kay assures her, some ladies have a special dish just for potato salad.

Even though Quinn is attracted to Susannah, he takes a firm stand that he will not act on it because she is not a believer. What ensues is a hilarious and completely believeable plan by Quinn’s friends to share the gospel with Susannah. Her conversion testimony is one of the best I’ve ever read in Christian fiction.

But there is still the matter of her investigation and her deception to Quinn and all of his friends, which makes for several entertaining plot twists.

This novel by Elizabeth White, sprinkled with just enough phrases with fireworks double meaning to keep you on your toes, was a bang-up good read.

 July was all popsicles, water slides and fireworks, but the moment the calendar turned over, a sense a dread settled in my stomach. A big old circle around a certain date gave full notice that my wild and carefree days were numbered. Literally.

Whatever fun could have been wrung out of the fading days of summer were overshadowed by the looming deadline. We still slept late, rode bikes and tried to be as lazy as humanly possible, but it all had a sense of desperation. It wasn’t summer any more, it was August. Hot, stifling and lifeless. In other words – school.

            Even the word sounded like coughing up a hairball. August.

The magic moment of August at the top of the swing

            After I graduated from college and started working at a small newspaper, I reveled in the fact that for the first time in 18 years (I took a little extra time to get through college) I would not have to go back to school. The dusty taste of August still lingered in my mouth, though, as I covered the start of school for those poor, innocent children.

            The next year I turned the calendar over to August and marveled that there was no drop-dead date circled in red. Then I looked closer. There really wasn’t much of anything on the calendar for August.

            And I made the most delightful discovery: August is awesome!

            This is the month when schedules slow down and it’s too hot to do anything much beside sip iced tea and read a good book.

            The grass gets overtaken by the heat so I only have to mow every other week. Cheery wildflowers bloom with abandon on the side of the road. The hillsides have taken on varying shades of green and yellow and tan, a relief to the eye after the monotonous shades of summer. Sometimes there’s a hint of a cool breeze in the air.

            August also gives us neat dates such as 08/09/10.

            The garden offers up an abundance of tomatoes, zucchini, cucumbers, zucchini, onions, zucchini and more zucchini. Reruns are the only thing on TV, so you might as well as go outside with a piece of watermelon and spit the seeds over the porch railing while the cicadas drone.

            Vacation is over, as is the county fair, Bible school, family reunions, hay baling and the ambitious summer to-do list. Either the projects are done or the list is discarded. This is not a time for starting projects; this is a time for taking naps in front of the air conditioner vent.

            The songs on the radio are all familiar since no one introduces new singles in singles. No movies at the theater are must-see, although a cheap movie may be in order just for the sake of sitting in the cool and dark for two hours when the heat index approaches 112.

            If I get a burst of energy, I may upload some pictures from summer adventures to Facebook. I’m more likely to get a burst of inertia drenched in 98 percent humidity.

            August is that moment at the top of the swing. Your legs pump back and forth, the old chains creak on the play gym and you push your chest out to go forward. Just when you’ve gone as high as you can possibly go, the swing pauses for one magic moment. Your heart swells in your chest as you float in a blue sky. The world stretches out pure and perfect beneath you. Then you catch your breath and fall back and have to start working again.

            August is a 31-day pause in the middle of the year for us to rediscover simple pleasures. It is the taste of tree-ripened peaches, wild plums and homemade salsa. It’s not quite summer, it’s not quite fall, it’s just hot and that hammock is calling my name.

            The best thing about not being in school is I don’t have to go back to school. I understand the agony teachers and students are experiencing, but this is one month when it’s good to be a grown up. I may just sleep in the first day of school because I can. Because it’s August.

            What do I have going on in August? Nothing much, give or take a watermelon seed spitting contest or two. What’s so great about August? Nothing much. Which is why it’s so great.

Seeds of Summer opens with Natalie Adams facing a daunting task: Her father died in a tractor accident and the former rodeo queen must manage the ranch and care for her teenage brother and sister. Like any good Kansas girl, she’s stubborn and independent, but grudgingly accepts help from Jared Logan, who happens to be the new pastor in town. Jared is kind and persistent. He’s also attracted to Natalie, but shows his true character in fighting his feelings because he knows it would be inappropriate to have a relationship with her. This is a refreshing plot line for Christian fiction.

Click here to purchase Seeds Of Summer

Just as Natalie seems to be getting on her feet, her step-mother, long presumed dead, shows up at the ranch. Natalie has so much to grieve and overcome, including giving up college and her rodeo career, that it was easy to empathize with her and understand the hardness in her heart. Jared was my favorite character, as the uncertain young minister gamely tried his hand at roping and discovered his own love for the land.
What I enjoy most about this series is that it relates so closely to life. It portrays the not-so-glamorous parts of ranch life, but also baling hay and fixing windmills.
Natalie and Jared both struggle and grow in their faith as they discover love in this book.

The first book in the series is Snow Melts in Spring. Deborah is working hard on the third book!

Click here to purchase Snow Melts in Spring

In April 2008, I received “the phone call” from my agent, Rachelle Gardner, that Zondervan had made an offer on the Seasons of the Tallgrass, a contemporary romance series set in the Flint Hills of Kansas—a place I dearly love. My long-held dream had finally arrived—my prayers had been answered.

Deborah Vogts

 But the story didn’t begin there…it began many years ago when I attended Emporia State University and took a summer course called Flint Hills Folklore. Along with classroom study, we took field trips into the heart of the Flint Hills and visited with old-time ranchers, schoolmarms and post-mistresses. It was such a delightful experience, especially our drives into the pastures. We would get on these back roads and drive over pasture guards into the open range. We would travel for miles without seeing another car or even an electric line—just pure, native prairie.. That summer, I fell in love with the Flint Hills and it has stayed with me all this time, finally culminating in the contemporary romance series, the Seasons of the Tallgrass.

My first book, Snow Melts in Spring, begins when a horse is terribly injured. Right off, I had to know technical terminology and had to create a scene that was accurate and believable. To get it right, I contacted a handful of veterinarians, asked them a bunch of detailed questions all the way down to possible accident scenarios, which would create the type of injuries required for the story. I even shadowed one small animal vet for a day in order to get a feel for what a “day in the life” might look like for my character who was also a vet.

My hero in this book is an NFL quarterback, so I also had to know something about football. For this research, I went to the children’s section of the library and checked out an armload of books. I also watched a lot of football games on television and asked my football-loving friends and family hundreds of questions–all so I could write two or three scenes with authenticity.

On one of my many road trips into the Flint Hills, my husband and I stayed at the Clover Cliff Ranch, a Bed & Breakfast owned by Jim & Joan Donahue. This place became the basis for the McCray’s Lightning M Ranch.

 For Seeds of Summer, which released the end of May, I learned about the Miss Rodeo America competition because my main character, Natalie Adams is a former Miss Rodeo Kansas and first runner up Miss Rodeo America. My research for this story included visiting with those at the Miss Rodeo America headquarters, as well as interviewing Miss Amy Wilson, Miss Rodeo America 2008. Amy was a joy to work with and is such a lovely person. My visit to her home in Colby, Kan., was an unexpected blessing, as she shared some special moments from her time as Miss Rodeo Kansas and then as Miss Rodeo America.

I learned that Miss Rodeo America has a host of sponsors who shower their queen with lovely gifts, some of which include: a wardrobe of Wrangler Jeans, Justin Boots, Bailey Hats, fully tooled Court’s Saddle with custom Miss Rodeo America conchos and an official Miss Rodeo America trophy buckle from Montana Silversmiths. Accompanying the perpetual Miss Rodeo America tiara made by Landstrom’s Original Black Hills Gold Creations, Amy was given a wardrobe of matching jewelry. These items, along with other prizes were presented to her throughout her reign.

To see some pictures of these items, please visit my blog post http://deborahvogts.blogspot.com/2009/07/visit-with-miss-rodeo-america-2008-amy.html

Author Bio: Deborah Vogts and her husband have three daughters and make their home in Southeast Kansas where they raise and train American Quarter Horses. As a student at Emporia State University studying English and journalism, Deborah developed a love for the Flint Hills that has never faded. In writing this series, she hopes to share her passion for one of the last tallgrass prairie regions in the world, showing that God’s great beauty rests on the prairie and in the hearts of those who live there. Visit Deborah at her web site: http://deborahvogts.com.

Hanging out at the fair last weekend, it was easy to forget that the event has not always been around. Now, it’s hard to imagine July evenings without a carnival and concerts on the courthouse square. Congratulations to the fair board and all those involved for making it a great success.

If you took all the best things about farms, small towns, America, human nature, God’s creation, fried foods, fresh air, being young and being old, mixed them all up together and poured them out, I’m pretty sure the result would be a county fair. The summer festivals are a celebration of excellence, the best of livestock, fresh cut flowers, vegetables, cake decorating, knitting, jams and jellies, woodworking and photography.

Any time you can slide on a burlap sack and listen to a group called Cori Jo and the Outlaw Junkies, you can guarantee a good time will be had by all. Factor in the perfectly reasonable price of free, and it gets even better. Add the cotton candy and it just went over the top.

This year’s fair parade may have been the greatest celebration of democracy ever held outside of Independence Hall. Every two minutes, a political candidate came jogging by, shaking hands and asking for votes. All politics is local, as they say, and if the Nodaway County Fair Parade is the barometer, Americans are eager to bring about some change in this country.

Besides the politicians, the parade consisted of classic cars, marching bands, pageant queens, restored tractors, saddle horses, fire engines, farm equipment, dance troupes, sports teams and semi trucks. You can’t get that in any Disney parade. Parade entrants were so generous this year, I came home with all kinds of office supplies and other goodies. By the end of the parade, even kids were getting full of candy.

It’s interesting that as the number of farms and farmers decreases, county fairs grow more popular. Perhaps the changing times make it even more important that communities gather together to just being us and make no excuses about it. Fairs are keeping up with the times, too. I noticed where one small town festival in Nodaway County will have a texting contest.

There are those who will poke fun of county fairs, especially the food on a stick. These are obviously people who have never been to a fair because one turn on the tilt-a-whirl, they’d be having too much fun to do anything besides grab a corn dog and swing by the 4-H displays to admire the quilts and birdfeeders.

County fairs are so much fun, I’m going to take in another one this summer. I’m very much looking forward to seeing Chris Filer, a farmer from Harrisonville, Mo., who is just now breaking into the music scene. His latest single is called “John Deere, John 3:16.” That sounds like a good life philosophy.

Chris will be playing at the Jefferson City Fair with Easton Corbin. Imagine a county fair on a town square, corn dog smell in the air and lots of cowboy hats. Easton’s a little more country than that. Preceding the concert is a minivan figure eight race, with all total destruction of all minivans at the end of the race. Again, a caliber of entertainment that you will not find at a Disney park, for just a fraction of the price.

When it comes to homegrown fun, a county fiar is not just a bargain, it’s priceless.

Strawberries from the garden earlier this year

Trying to beat the heat, and not altogether succeeding, I went out to the garden about 7:30 this morning and attacked crabgrass with my hoe. It’s not enough just to scrape the little invaders out of the ground. The plants can take up root somewhere else if they survive. I hoed the plants out, then turned them upside down to wither in the sun.

Killing the roots is the only way to destroy a weed, I observed, which reminded me of this devotional. Looking at the uprooted crabgrass, I realized that was a bit how I felt in a spiritual sense. As if  my roots, instead of being nurtured, were drying out. Battles which once didn’t seem so hard were getting the best of me.

Experience has taught me that God’s Word is the only source of nutrients for our roots. I reflected that it has been a busy summer and I’ve been disconnected from consistent Bible study.

After washing off the garden dirt, I pulled out a study guide for Philippians that I’d bought months ago with good intentions. In the introduction, author Elizabeth George wrote about a woman after God’s own heart:

One crucial way this desire can become reality is by nurturing a heart that abides in God’s Word. To do so means that you and I must develop a root system…

This must be just what I need! Today’s  study of Philippians didn’t start in that book, but in Acts, describing how the church there was started. Paul and Silas answered the “Macedonian call” to go to the region. They were led by the Holy Spirit to Philippi. On Sunday morning, they went to the riverbank, where a group of women were praying.

I was shocked to discover that the Philippian church, which was such a blessing in Paul’s life and led to a book of the Bible which has guided and inspired millions of Christians, was born because God moved in response to a women’s prayer meeting. The church grew because a businesswoman named Lydia used her skills to God’s glory.

It does matter what you and I do in those private moments. Time in prayer may change the future, and probably when you least expect it.

Farmers know that the essential nutrients for fertile soil are nitrogen, phosphorous and potassium, identified by the chemical symbols N-P-K.

It’s the same formula for believers: Need Praying Knees.

“Everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ and become one with him.” Philippians 3:3-9