It Is Done: More Than a Resume

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Well… it is done.

I have submitted my resume and cover letter for a potential new job, one that combines the gifts God has given me with 32 years of experience. And let me tell you, it was no small task. My old resume? Lost somewhere on an old flash drive or hard drive from a few devices ago. So I started from the very beginning. From scratch. A flashback to a lifetime ago.

There was something surreal about seeing my life laid out on paper…32 years of education and experience. My work life, anyway. Line by line, role by role, it brought back memories. Some sweet, some difficult. It made me proud. These accomplishments have shaped me, refined me, and, in many ways, defined me.

Maybe they shouldn’t define me as much as they have but I’ve always been goal-oriented, always looking toward the next mountain to climb, the next thing to conquer.

And then, in the middle of all of this reflection, a humbling (and slightly hilarious) reality check. Mini Me said, “My teacher hasn’t even been alive for 32 years!” She made sure I knew it! Loud and clear.

As I filled in names of past supervisors and references, I found myself walking back through conversations long tucked away. Some with my graduate school mentor. I could almost see her again, sitting across from that younger version of me, an energetic, optimistic young teacher who truly believed she could change the world.

And maybe, in small ways, I did!

Because as I looked over every position, every transition, every unexpected turn, I could see something so much bigger than a career path. I could see God’s hand. In the hard decisions. In the closed doors. In the leaps of faith. In the moments I didn’t understand at the time. He already knew the ending when I was just standing at the beginning.

What a blessing to say “I’ve lived an extraordinary life, not because it was perfect, but because it was purposeful.”

And yet, as I typed and reflected, I was reminded of something even more important. So much of who I am isn’t even on that resume. Becoming a wife. Becoming a mother. Being a daughter. Being a friend.

Those roles might show up in a short answer on an application, tucked into a line or two, but they are not bullet points. They are not measurable achievements. Yet they are the greatest gifts. They are the truest parts of who I am. They are where love is lived out daily in the ordinary, in the unseen, in the moments that will never make it onto paper but matter the most.

Lately, I’ve also been singing in the requiem choir at funerals, and our pastor reads the obituary of the deceased. Maybe that’s why my mind has been lingering here, thinking about legacy, about a life lived. And with a sweet young friend currently on hospice, that reflection feels even closer, more real.

But what is really important? As a Lutheran, I know this truth deep in my soul: My place in heaven is not defined by anything on that resume. Not the titles. Not the accomplishments. Not the years of service. Not even the good works done in His name.

This life, this faith, is not about works. It’s about Jesus! Yes, I strive to glorify God in all that I do. Yes, my faith has grown and my outreach has expanded. But none of those things earn me anything when it comes to eternity. Only one thing matters. Jesus. His sacrifice. His love. His suffering on the cross.

And as we walk through this Easter season, I can’t help but return to His final words: “It is finished.” (John 19:30) It is done. Not “almost done.” Not “keep striving.” Not “earn your way.” Done. Complete. Finished.

The work that truly saves, the work that truly matters was never mine to accomplish. It was His.

So my resume is done. But more importantly, the greatest work of all has already been completed for me. And because of that, I am free. Free to work. Free to serve. Free to love. Free to be a wife, a mother, a daughter, and a friend. No need to earn anything because I already have everything in Him.

All glory to God.

Friendship, Faith, and the Life We Never Could Have Imagined: A Clarinet Duet Composed by God

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Friendship over the years has a way of revealing something divine: God has plans for our lives long before we ever know what they are.

I met my best friend in high school during marching band camp. She was a sophomore, I was a junior, and we both played clarinet. At the time, our biggest concerns were rehearsal schedules and surviving the summer heat, not realizing God was quietly planting a lifelong friendship that would shape both of our lives in ways we never could have imagined.

We stayed close through college and eventually found ourselves searching for teaching jobs at the same time, me in early childhood education, her in music education. Coming from southern Illinois, we sent out hundreds of resumes across Illinois and Missouri, praying and hoping for doors to open. When I was offered my dream job teaching all-day kindergarten in the Ferguson-Florissant School District, I was thrilled… and terrified. It meant crossing the Mississippi River and leaving the comfort of my hometown after two long years of searching. Still, I knew in my heart it was where God was leading me.

Then, just one week later, my best friend landed an interview in the very same district. What were the odds? I helped her prep, drilled her with interview questions, drove her to the administration building, so she’d know exactly where to go… and she got the job! Suddenly, what felt like a leap of faith became a shared journey.

We hadn’t planned on being roommates, not wanting to risk our friendship, but after apartment hunting, it simply made sense. So we moved into our first apartment and began our teaching careers together in the fall of 1996. Those years were filled with the growing pains of first-year teaching, tears after long days, late-night talks, and constant encouragement. When she wanted to quit, I reminded her of her gifts. She stayed and went on to teach general music in that district for years.

The Noteworthy Mommy and her BFF throughout the years.

In return, she nourished me in ways only a true friend can, through amazing meals, laughter, and by pulling me back into music. I began playing clarinet seriously again, taking private lessons, performing in pit orchestras, and eventually joining the Saint Louis Wind Symphony, where we are still members today. Together, we built a wind quintet, played weddings and receptions, and even created concerts for children.

Over seven years as roommates, we supported each other through graduate school, both adopted cats, hosted dinner parties, watched sitcoms recorded on a VCR with steaming cups of coffee on Saturday mornings, and shared faith conversations sparked by sermons I heard at my church with my bestie even joining me sometimes. Somewhere along the way, we became more than friends, we became sisters. For two only children, it was an extraordinary gift.

Life continued to unfold: seven years as roommates, standing as each other’s maid of honor, marriages, motherhood. Her daughters came first, and when my “mini me” arrived years later, she became my mommy mentor, passing down clothes, books, toys, and priceless wisdom.

The Noteworthy Mommy and her bestie.

Even as life grew busier, we stayed connected through Sunday rehearsals, phone calls, and faith-filled conversations. Scripture and lessons learned from our individual Bible studies began weaving naturally into our talks. Then, last year, she mentioned possibly returning to work. I casually shared that my daughter’s school was always looking for preschool assistants. She applied, unsure if she was cut out for it, and was hired.

Suddenly, my “sister” was part of my school and church family. She became a blessing to our school community, beloved by teachers and children alike. Seeing her there, and knowing she would see my “mini me” at lunchtime brought a deep sense of peace and gratitude.

And then came yesterday.

I was asked to substitute in her classroom.

Team-teaching with my best friend, my “sister”, surrounded by three, four, and five year olds, was pure joy. The inside jokes flowed, the love and respect were obvious, and the kids felt it. It was a truly blessed day, one I will always remember. A church friend saw us together, referring to us as the “preschool dream team!”

What keeps echoing in my heart is this: when we met in high school, we never could have imagined that we would have been roommates teaching in the same school district, and now, 38 years later, we’d spend the day teaching preschool together. If someone had told us back then, we would have laughed!

But God knew.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

Working together in preschool in January 2026

This friendship has always been give and take, composed by God’s hand. Proof that when we trust Him, stay open, and walk faithfully, even when we don’t see the full picture, He weaves something far more beautiful than we could ever plan ourselves, a quiet duet composed by God.

God is amazing! His plans are good. And sometimes they begin on that one day in band camp and lead to a friendship that lasts a lifetime!

The Noteworthy Mommy Goes Back to Preschool

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This past semester has been one I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

When I walked into the preschool classroom at Zion Lutheran School in St. Charles, Missouri, something deep inside me stirred. It felt familiar, sacred even. And then it hit me, this wasn’t just a full circle moment. It was a three-circle moment!

I attended Zion Lutheran Preschool in Belleville, Illinois when I was four years old. Those early memories…learning, singing, being loved and cared for in a faith-filled space were the very beginning of my story. Years later, my very first contracted teaching position after graduating college was teaching half-day preschool at that same Zion Lutheran School in my birth church in Belleville. That classroom was where I learned who I was as an educator, where my calling first took shape.

And now, thirty years later, I found myself teaching half-day preschool again at Zion Lutheran School. This time in St. Charles, MO. This time at Mini Me’s school. This time at a church that has become an incredible home for my family of three. God’s timing is never accidental, and this moment was no exception.

When I heard that a teacher friend was in need of a long-term substitute, I felt something I had never felt before. There was no debate. No list of pros and cons. No second-guessing. I felt called…clearly, unmistakably called to step in. The Holy Spirit was working inside of me, nudging me forward. There was only one answer my heart could give.

Yes.

I won’t pretend it was easy. It wasn’t. There were sacrifices…real ones. I no longer had the opportunity to pray with my Moms in Prayer group or meet with my morning Bible study. My energy tank was empty most days, leaving no fuel left for workouts at the YMCA. Our household felt it too with less prepared meals, a little more chaos, a little less order.

But oh, how the sacrifices paled in comparison to the blessings.

When I say yes to something, I’m all in. One hundred percent. And I gave this job everything I had. In return, I was given a class of littles who loved stories. Truly loved them. If they could have spent the entire day listening to books and eating snack, they would have been perfectly content.

So I answered that love with books…lots of them. High-quality, beautiful picture books and some repetitive texts. Some I remembered sharing with kindergarten students I taught years ago like “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?” and “Mrs. Wishy Washy.” Some I had once read aloud to my own Mini Me when she was in preschool. And a few that were brand new to me like “The Gingerbread Girl.” Every story felt like a gift.

And of course, the reading consultant in me couldn’t help herself. I modeled comprehension strategies while reading. I taught them how to make predictions, how to wonder, how to notice new vocabulary. I stretched them gently, intentionally and they rose to the challenge! The growth these littles made in such a short amount of time was incredible.

The greatest blessing of all was teaching them about Jesus and showing them His love every single day. Attending chapel each week. Praying together. Helping them learn letters and sounds using Open Court Reading and alphabet sound cards. And wow, the instruction stuck! They remembered. They applied it. They grew.

One of the sweetest blessings in this adventure was how much Mini Me loved having her Noteworthy Mommy at school. She beamed with pride every single morning. She and her BFF would often help me set up the classroom, straightening chairs, setting out materials, doing the important “teacher work” before the day began. Watching her move through her school day knowing I was on campus was pure joy. She loved having me there, and I will treasure those moments forever.

The Noteworthy Mommy in 1995 with her students on a field trip.
The Noteworthy Mommy in 2025 with her students at an Advent program.

This position, which was meant to be temporary, ended up being extended longer than originally planned. And honestly, it felt exactly right. Like God saying, “Stay a little longer. There’s still more for you here.”

This semester stretched me. It exhausted me. It blessed me beyond measure. And as I look back, I can say with full confidence this wasn’t just a job. It was a calling revisited. A circle completed. A reminder that God isn’t finished with us yet, and sometimes He brings us back to where it all began, not to repeat the past, but to show us how much we’ve grown.

All is Well

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If December had a soundtrack, mine would be set at allegro. Advent always arrives gently on the church calendar, but in real life it tends to come with a very full to do list and this year was no exception.

The days were packed with preschool teaching, doing my best to make the Advent season meaningful and memorable for my students. There were Christmas concerts to play, rehearsals to attend, and that familiar pressure to be present and prepared everywhere at once. At home, every ornament needed to be placed just so because somehow that feels like part of honoring the season. Gifts were purchased, cards were written and mailed, and my list expanded as it always does, this year with the added blessing of including the pastors, staff, and students of Bethlehem Lutheran.

Then there was real life. A sick child. A sick husband. Both arriving right on cue the week before Christmas.

Still, the calendar marched on. I hosted my annual Bunco Babes Christmas Party, put together gift bags for the Zion school and church staff, and prepared to host Christmas dinner for our parents. And that’s only the highlight reel… the list truly goes on and on. I know most of you reading this are nodding along. You get it. Advent can be holy and exhausting.

In the midst of all that doing, I found myself wondering: Is this how Jesus wants us to celebrate His birthday? With stress? With rushing? With checking boxes?

I don’t think so.

So this year, even as I did get it all done (with a little stress, if I’m being honest), I prayed intentionally for the Advent gifts of peace and joy. And something shifted. I asked for help. I gave myself grace when things weren’t done exactly as they always are. I let go of the idea that everything had to be perfect. And in doing so, some of that familiar holiday overwhelm loosened its grip and I had one of the busiest but the most joyous Advent seasons ever!

Taking on a long-term preschool position for a dear teacher friend on medical leave meant many people were praying for me this season. And wow!!! I felt those prayers. Truly. It was as if I was given the strength of Wonder Woman and the energy of the Energizer Bunny, not to glorify busyness, but to serve others with joy and endurance. To those of you who prayed for me; thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am deeply grateful.

On Christmas Eve, as I sang with my treble choir at church, the message of the song wrapped itself around everything this season had been… busy, beautiful, imperfect, and grace-filled. The reminder that in the midst of the noise, the sickness, the schedules, and the preparations, Christ is born… and all is well.

This Christmas will stand out for me. Not because it was flawless, but because it was faithful. After all the preparing and the franticness that so often accompanies the season, my heart can rest in this simple truth, there is peace in the middle of the miracle.

All is well.

Click on the link and hear my choir sing the song, All is Well on Christmas Eve. It’s at 55:18 but consider listening to the entire service, the scriptures, the powerful sermon, join in the liturgy, the traditional hymns, and the children’s sermon presented by The Noteworthy Mommy.

https://youtu.be/MIwpvs3EZ9A?si=QEmBZMWwORonosd2

“All Is Well”

by Michael W. Smith

All is well all is well

Angels and men rejoice

For tonight darkness fell

Into the dawn of love′s light

Sing A-le

Sing Alleluia

All is well all is well

Let there be peace on earth

Christ is come go and tell

That He is in the manger

Sing A-le

Sing Alleluia

All is well all is well

Lift up your voice and sing

Born is now Emmanuel

Born is our Lord and Savior

Sing Alleluia

Sing Alleluia

All is well

 Mini Me and the Circle of Kindness

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On the very first day of school, mini me reflected the love of Jesus in such a simple, yet powerful way, by welcoming a new friend into her circle. What made it even more special was discovering that this “new” friend was actually an old one, a preschool buddy who had returned to Zion after five years away. Though so much time had passed, their bond was still there, as if no time had gone by at all! Watching them reconnect was such a sweet reminder of how God weaves relationships back into our lives at just the right time.

A few months later, mini me and her friends had the chance to share that same love again. One afternoon, as I crossed the playground from school to church, I noticed a little girl sitting alone. She was new to Zion and was trying to fit in with a group, but it didn’t seem to be working. My heart went out to her. Not long after, mini me and her friends noticed her too and without hesitation, they welcomed her in.

This new friend is bilingual, and her family recently joined our school community. I’ve since connected with her mom via text and we use Google Translator to communicate since she speaks Spanish. Despite any language barrier, kindness has spoken louder than words. The girls have grown close, and mini me even invited her to her upcoming birthday sleepover!

Moments like these remind me that love doesn’t need translation, it’s understood in every language. When children lead with kindness, they reflect the heart of Jesus in the most beautiful ways.

Back to School: Mini Me Begins 5th Grade at Zion

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It’s hard to believe another school year has begun and this one is extra special! My mini me is officially a fifth grader at Zion Lutheran School, kicking off Zion’s 174th year of Christian education. What a legacy this school has, and what a blessing that we get to be part of it.

This year is bittersweet, it’s her last year in the main building and her final year of elementary school. Next fall she’ll cross the parking lot into the “big, bad” junior high building that houses 6th, 7th, and 8th grade. That territory feels way out of this Noteworthy Mommy’s area of expertise (and comfort zone), but thankfully, we’re not there just yet. For now, I’m soaking in this milestone year.

Mini me bounded into the first day of school full of excitement. The biggest smiles came when she realized she was placed in class with her bestie, Abby, and the rest of her friend group. She instantly fell in love with her homeroom teacher, Miss Skerston, but also loves Mrs. Cornejo, who guides her in Reading and English. What a gift to have teachers who not only dedicate themselves to academics but also share their faith daily, teaching my girl about Jesus, life, and gradually preparing her for the leap to junior high.

Mini Me showed Jesus’s love on the very first day of school when she warmly adopted a new friend into her friend group, making sure no one felt left out. How exciting it was to find out that this “new” friend is actually one of her preschool buddies who has returned to Zion after five years away! The girls picked right back up where they left off, and mini me and her friends were thrilled to add her to their little circle. It was such a joyful way to kick off the school year!

With 5th grade comes more responsibility. This year’s school supply list included a massive zip-up binder (think Trapper Keeper for all you 80s kids, only this one is made of fabric, has zippers, pockets, files, all the bells and whistles). Picking it out was like going car shopping, with the various colors and features. She also made the transition to dressing out for PE, which meant stocking up on official Zion Bobcat gym clothes. On top of that, she now has online assignments to keep track of and had to select electives in the arts. She chose choir and beginning band (more on that adventure in a future post), which means she has no study hall. It’s been a challenge, but my determined 5th grader is ready to make it all work!

As I look at her diving into this year with joy, commitment, and faith, I couldn’t be more proud. She truly loves her school, her teachers, and her friends. Zion has always been more than just a school—it’s a family. And with a new principal and assistant principal leading the way, I know this will be an amazing year filled with growth, laughter, and many blessings.

Here’s to 5th grade, new adventures, and another year at Zion Lutheran School. I couldn’t think of a better place to be!

My Musical Mentor and Friend

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It’s an honor to share a few words about someone who left a positive mark on my life—Mike Montague.

Mike and I shared something special from the start—we were both Christmas babies, born on December 25th, 24 years apart. We also have loving partners named Ken, and share a deep passion for music. For twenty years, we sat side by side in the Northwinds Concert Band, clarinets in hand and music in our hearts. But more than that, Mike was my musical mentor.

He was an extraordinarily talented musician, always in pursuit of the perfect sound. Whether it was offering me alternate fingerings, helping me figure out a tricky passage, or suggesting small changes to improve tone, Mike’s guidance was always spot-on. He was constantly tinkering—trying new combinations of mouthpieces, ligatures, and barrels, searching for just-the right sound. He even made his own reeds—some of the best I’ve ever played on! His knowledge was vast, and he shared it so generously.

But it wasn’t just musical wisdom he passed along. Every Tuesday night at rehearsal, Mike delivered gentle life lessons—little pieces of insight I didn’t always realize were treasures until much later. In his soft-spoken way, he encouraged, uplifted, and taught me how to truly listen, not just to the music, but to life.

Mike supported me in everything I pursued. When I told him about my work as a reading consultant, he lit up with curiosity and pride. You see, Mike was also a scientist. His passion for science matched his love of music, and our conversations would often dive deep into the science of reading, the science behind music, and everything in between.

When I became a mother, Mike beamed with pride. He always mentioned how smart she was going to be because she had two musicians for parents. Mike was fascinated not just by my daughter’s musical genetics—offering tips on how to develop her perfect pitch—but also by her very existence. I call her my “miracle baby” but I think Mike was thrilled that she existed through the advancements in science, she being an IVF baby! I shared weekly reports about her antics and her growth, and this brought him pure joy.

One moment that has stayed with me happened on my 50th birthday, as I approached this milestone, Mike gave me a piece of advice that I now carry into my 50s. He said, “Enjoy your 50s. You’ve got the smarts—you’ve learned so much—and you still have your health. Now’s the time to live life, go places, do things, and share your wisdom.”

Mike’s words have become my mantra. They inspired me to take charge of my health, to lose over 50 pounds, and to find the courage to use my voice, to not be afraid to speak up, advocate for others, and to live life fully. I’m still a work in progress, but Mike’s voice echoes in my heart and keeps me moving forward.

The last concert Mike and I played together in December 2023.

So, in honor of Mike, I encourage you to take his advice to heart:

Live fully. Share your wisdom. Embrace the music. And celebrate the beautiful differences that make life so rich.

Thank you, Mike, for your music, your science, your kindness, and your light. Your legacy lives on in every note we play, every life you touched, and every Tuesday night memory we carry with us.

*I read these words at Mike’s “Celebration of Life” service on June 21, 2025. I also had the great privilege of performing the piece Rhosymedre, arranged for clarinet quintet.

Celebrating the End of a School Year—and a Remarkable Career

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As the 2024–2025 school year draws to a close, we find ourselves reflecting on moments of joy, gratitude, and transition. At the heart of this season of celebration is someone who has faithfully guided generations through Christian education: Mr. Debrick, Mini Me’s beloved principal, is retiring after an extraordinary 41 years in Lutheran education—27 of those years serving at Zion Lutheran School in Saint Charles.

Our school and church communities came together to honor him with well-deserved celebrations, expressing heartfelt thanks for his steadfast leadership, his devotion to Christian values, and his deep love for students, families, and staff. It was a moving farewell—filled with appreciation, laughter, and a few tears as we lifted him up in prayer and sent him off with blessings for this new chapter in life.

While we celebrated the close of a remarkable career, we also rejoiced in a new beginning. Mini Me’s teacher, Miss Schnegelberger, just completed her very first year in the classroom. With enthusiasm and humility, she shared her reflections on social media, writing how much she has learned and how eager she is to continue growing. There’s something beautiful in witnessing both ends of a vocation—a hopeful start and a faithful finish.

“You’ll always remember your first class and your last class.” That truth resonates deeply. I can still recall nearly every face from my first year of teaching, and just as many from my final year, but fewer from the years in between. The beginning and the end stay with you, yet it’s the in-between, the long, steady walk of service that leaves the most lasting legacy.

Mr. Debrick and Mini Me at the start of the 2024-2025 school year.

Reflecting on Mr. Debrick’s career, I’m awed by the immense change he navigated with courage and vision. The evolution of technology in education alone is a testament to how much the world shifted during his time. From chalkboards and overhead projectors with transparencies (young teachers, go Google those!) to computer labs, then one-to-one devices, and finally Smart Boards—Mr. Debrick shepherded Zion through every innovation. In fact, one of his last projects as principal was overseeing the installation of a brand-new set of Smart Boards.

But it wasn’t just the classroom tools that changed—it was the world itself. Mr. Debrick began his career amid the “Just Say No” era and the AIDS crisis. He guided Zion through the tragic events of 9/11, the heartbreak of school shootings like Columbine, and the implementation of new safety protocols such as intruder drills. My own family experienced firsthand his steady, faith-filled leadership during the COVID-19 pandemic—a time that demanded wisdom, adaptability, and deep trust in God. I will always admire the strength with which he led our school community through that unprecedented season.

Yet Mr. Debrick would be the first to say he didn’t do any of it alone. He walked each day hand-in-hand with his Savior, always pointing others toward Jesus. His humble spirit, servant heart, and love for his Heavenly Father were evident in every decision he made, every student he greeted, every teacher he encouraged. That example of faith in action may well be his greatest gift to us all.

One of the most touching moments during his Right of Farewell and Godspeed service at church was a special performance by a junior high choir, assembled just for the occasion, who sang Mr. Debrick’s favorite song: “Make Me a Servant.” He loves this song so deeply that he often invited his staff to sing it together, a musical reminder of the calling they shared.

There’s a version of the song that holds particular meaning, and the lyrics are worth carrying close:

These words echo the life and career Mr. Debrick lives. He taught children about Jesus—not only through chapel messages or religion classes but through his daily actions, his kindness, and his unwavering faith. I will carry those lyrics with me, just as so many others will, remembering the power of humble service and the sacredness of a life poured out for others.

My family of three have been at Zion for 7 years with Mini Me starting preschool at age 3 and just completing the 4th grade. What a blessing it has been to have Mr. Debrick’s leadership at Zion and what a legacy he leaves behind after 41 years in Lutheran education!

From the Talley family: Thank you, Mr. Debrick, for everything. For your warm wave each morning. For your constant smile. For always putting Jesus, children, and families first. Your devotion has made a lasting impact, and your presence will be deeply missed.

We wish you a retirement full of rest, golf, Kansas City Chiefs games, and of course plenty of popcorn! Congratulations on an incredible milestone. May God continue to bless you and your family on the journey ahead!

Mr. Debrick, the Noteworthy Mommy and Mini Me at Mr. Debrick’s “Right of Farewell and Godspeed” Service.

A Clydesdale Named Rascal and the Sweetness of the Unexpected

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This afternoon, God tucked a little surprise into an ordinary day and Mini Me and I were lucky enough to unwrap it.

Most days after school, we take the same route home. But today, for no real reason, I chose to drive down Highway 94. Maybe it was the sunshine warming the car after a dreary few days, or maybe it was a nudge from the Holy Spirit. Either way, it led us right to the unexpected.

As we neared our neighborhood, we spotted something unusual in the gas station parking lot: a tent, balloons, and a massive horse…a Clydesdale. Not just any Clydesdale, but Rascal, a famous Budweiser Clydesdale with a glossy coat, feathery hooves, and a calm presence that instantly drew a small crowd of admirers. Although feeling a bit under the weather and longing for my comfy chair at home, I quickly turned the car around and pulled in. We couldn’t miss this! 

Mini Me’s face lit up as we walked over. She’s an experienced rider, having taken lessons at my cousin’s ranch, so getting to meet Rascal felt extra special. We pet his soft nose, chatted with his handlers, and even got to hold his rein for a quick photo. The spring sun was shining, the breeze was gentle, and for a few minutes, everything in the world felt just right.

Mini Me with Rascal.

For two days I was in bed with the flu, worn out and drained. And now God has brought this. An ordinary Friday transformed by something as simple and grand as a horse in a gas station parking lot. It reminded me that God’s gifts don’t always come wrapped in big plans or tidy schedules. Sometimes they come through a detour, a change in routine, or through a horse named Rascal.

The Noteworthy Mommy with Rascal.

Life has its heavy days. But sprinkled in, like a gift from heaven, are these moments of unexpected joy. Today reminded me to keep my eyes open, my heart open, and my plans open, because you never know when grace will gallop right into your day.

Have you ever had an unexpected surprise like this? I’d love to hear your story. Please comment below. 

Called and Chosen

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“For many are called, but few are chosen.” Matthew 22:14

I have often battled with this verse. It’s a bit bleak, many are called, yet only a few are chosen? What does that mean for me, for my family, for the people I love?

Jesus speaks these words at the end of the Parable of the Wedding Feast. The king sends out invitations to his banquet, but many reject them. Others make excuses. Some even attack the messengers. So, the king extends his invitation further, calling in both the good and the bad from the streets. The banquet hall fills, but then the king finds a man without a wedding garment, and he is cast out.

This parable is about Gods kingdom. The call of salvation goes out to many, the Gospel is proclaimed to the world, but not all respond in faith. Some reject it right away. Others try to enter but on their own terms. Only those clothed in His grace, those chosen in Christ, remain at the feast.

As a Lutheran, I take comfort knowing that salvation is entirely God’s work, not mine. I do not choose God, He chooses me. In Baptism, He has called me by name and clothed me in the righteousness of Christ. I do not have to worry about whether I am good enough or whether I have earned my place at the table. The chosen ones are not the strongest, the smartest, or the most deserving. They are not the ones who have given the most money or done the most deeds. They are simply those whom God, in His mercy, has gathered to Himself.

Yet, this verse still calls me to act. The fact that I am among the chosen is not a reason for arrogance, but for gratitude. It reminds me how important it is to share the “Good News” of Jesus’s love and salvation with others. God calls many, and I am part of that calling. Through my words and actions, I can invite others to the feast, pointing them to Jesus, who provides the wedding garment of righteousness.

Today, I find peace knowing that I am both called and chosen. I did not earn it, and I can’t lose it by my own doing. It is God’s gift, through Christ. And with that certainty, I can live in faith, love, and joyful anticipation of the great banquet feast to come.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, thank You for calling me into Your kingdom. I know I do not deserve Your grace, yet You have chosen me in Christ. Clothe me in your righteousness and give me the courage to invite others to Your feast. In Jesus name, Amen

Reflection: Jennifer reminds us that being chosen into God’s Family leaves no room for arrogance, but gratitude. What are you most thankful for because God chose you?

Author:

Jennifer Freeman Talley is a life-long Lutheran, a wife, mom to a Zion 4th grader, educator, writer, and musician. She enjoys subbing at Zion, sings in the choir, and plays the clarinet in the Saint Louis Wind Symphony, Zion’s wind ensemble and the Northwinds Concert Band. www.noteworthymommy.com.

This devotional appeared in Zion Lutheran Church’s 2025 Easter Devotional Book, Chosen People of God.