death – JLM in Euroclydon

In Memorium Charlie Kirk October 14, 1993 – September 10, 2025

Wednesday, September 10, 2025, at 12:23 pm Mountain Time a 31-year-old man, a husband and father of two young children, went to be with Jesus. It was 1:23 here, I’d just got home from work, and I began to follow the news reports, although from what I could see of that first post, his body would not be able to sustain life after such an injury.

His death was not pronounced until after 2 pm, but most believe the death occurred at 12:23 instantaneously and that, thankfully, he was unable to process what was happening or experience any pain from it. So, in effect, he went from witnessing about Jesus to being in His Presence in the blink of an eye. 2 Corinthians 5:8

Immediately, condolences started flooding Facebook from those most impacted by his death, his close friends and associates, the President and Vice President, and me though I had never met him.

At the same time, celebratory comments began to trickle in which were absolutely appalling! Due to the age in which we live, those comments were shared, and some of the recipients with whom they were shared have been instrumental in seeing those individuals removed from positions of power and influence, especially power and influence over our children.

The posts, good and bad, continue today and have caused me to come to the decision that I need a break from FB. Further blog posts will not be mentioned on FB unless someone else wants to talk about them there.

Many posts stated that Charlie Kirk was assassinated for political reasons. His alleged killer was raised in a conservative household with conservative values but was “radicalized” probably at least in part by his college.

But there is something more significant going on here. Clearly there is a spiritual aspect to this that cannot be ignored. Charlie was the first well-known and influential American to be killed for his faith on American soil.

Consider other Christian martyrs in the halls of HIStory. I did a quick Google search and found a lengthy list. Aside from Jesus’ disciples, all but two of whom were martyred, the following individuals whose names I recognize were included:

Paul (Greek name Saul of Tarsus, writer of a large portion of the New Testament)

Mark (writer of the Gospel of Mark)

Luke (writer of the Gospel of Luke and the book of the Acts of the Apostles)

Timothy

Philemon

Polycarp of Smyrna

Justin Martyr

Joan of Arc

William Tyndale

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Jim Elliott

Charlie Kirk was not on the list. Of course, this list was generated by Wikipedia which stated in the opening paragraph that it “is a dynamic list and may never be able to satisfy particular standards for completeness.”

My guess is that Charlie’s name will soon appear on that list.

In just 4 days, I’ve read several stories of young people (and older ones) who repented and gave their hearts to Jesus because of Charlie’s ministry, a ministry which continues even though he is with our Lord. Who knows how many there actually are and will be in the days, weeks, months, and years to come should Jesus tarry? 2 Peter 3:8-9

Oh, to have a witness that continues after I am gone!

I am not an influencer in any way, shape, or form. I am an elderly woman with professionally diagnosed level I autism (FKA Asperger’s). It is at least partially because of this that I am disengaging from FB, at least for a time until YHWH heals my heart. My only close friends are my children and sisters; aside from that all my “conversation” comes from what I read. What I’ve read recently has hurt me, and I must not look at FB right now.

Despite my “weird wiring”, YHWH has honored me by placing me somewhere I can minister to others, a handful of small rural churches in central Illinois. I’ve been doing this for several years now. Until today, I followed the advice of my mentors within that denomination to “avoid those verses that might get me in trouble” because there are plenty of other verses from which to choose.

Because I was not convinced that the wonderful people in those churches were all believers in the full Truth of Jesus Christ . . . or . . . had more progress to make in their sanctification journeys (the latter group includes me and everyone else still residing here in the land of the living Psalm 27:13), I believe YHWH wanted and wants me to remain right where I am, so, I pretty much followed that advice. The only time I veered resulted in a finger in my chest and a “what news channel to do you listen to?” from a congregant in one of the churches.

A finger in the chest is hardly the same thing as a bullet to the neck!

Today I was bold. This is because of the example of boldness displayed for me by this new martyr!

Although I spoke my original sermon from Acts 28:30-31 and my sermon was written out in its entirety (a practice I follow fairly strictly to avoid saying something I don’t intend to and which I can do fairly well since I can read as though I am speaking), I started the preaching time by reading Luke 12:49-59 and then correlating that to what I’ve been seeing on FB. What I shared was not written out beforehand, and I was afraid I would misspeak.

How many times does YHWH tell us in His Word not to be afraid?

I knew what I shared would not be well received by everyone there, and it was not. After church I was approached by one of the women whom I suspected might be offended and was able to counsel her about the Biblical basis for believing the way I do. I believe the words I spoke during the message and those I shared with her afterward will accomplish their intended purpose.

As I was reading the passage from Luke 12 out loud, some words. . . one word. . . struck me. Luke 12:55 reads “And when the south wind blows, you say, ‘It will be hot,’ and it is.”

I wonder. . . is this true south of the equator?

When I received the paper describing my autism diagnosis, the psychologist was able to come up with three strengths: “intelligent, open to feedback, and curious.” Because I’m open to feedback, both positive and negative, and curious enough to do more research on dissenting opinions, please feel free to share your thoughts with me at my email address jacquelinemcdougall@ymail.com. Also, I pray and lovingly ask that you share this post with others. The name of my blog is JLM in Euroclydon.

Romans 8:28

Charlie Kirk is with Jesus.

That is not the only good thing to come from the bad thing of his assassination. One of those good things I shared in a previous paragraph.

Earlier today, I read something on FB speculating his beautiful widow, Erika, might make a good President. Maybe Vice President J D Vance read that post, too, and is considering her for a running mate.

On the other hand, her soul is the most important thing, and it would be so hard to maintain her relationship with YHWH in that position.

On the 3^rd hand, one must remember Esther, though, and her being used by YHWH for “such as time as this.” Esther 4:14

Another good thing that is probably applicable to me only is that one of the devout men I follow on FB is probably not the greatest for me to follow as he is not a believer in Jesus. It is obvious from his recent FB posts that he is taking the death of Charlie very badly—sincere grief is written all over his countenance—and that may be affecting what he shares in his posts, but what he is saying makes it clear that followers of Jesus, including me, need to be more careful in whose teachings we follow, no matter how closely their moral compasses and/or political beliefs align with our own.

I have shared several Bible references in this post. Following one of them I shared the verse as well. However, I’m going to try to get away from that except when necessary for context, because. . .

. . . I want you to look them up in your Bible. My prayer is that this post and other posts and writings of mine which you might stumble across out there will lead you closer to YHWH as you listen to Him for yourself when you look at what He has to say in your Bible.

God bless you. Shalom shalom.

Tree Tells a Story

When I was growing up Mom planted a sapling to the west of the house visible through the living and dining room windows. The tree grew and developed a beautiful shape, and each fall, it had the most glorious leaves. It was a sugar maple tree.

My first attempt at growing one came in approximately 1996 when I lived with my first husband on Lincoln Street in the town where our children were small.

The tree did well that first year, but sometime in the winter something broke the top half of it off. Since it had been a small tree, that reduced its height by about three feet. I wondered if it would live.

Often when I mowed the yard, YHWH would talk to me. That year as leaves popped out on the broken tree, it was as if He told me “That tree is you. It appeared to be destroyed by something. It appeared to be dead. But look! Life remains, and it will still be a beautiful thing to behold.”

My thinking, as it nearly always is, was about the past, that He was telling me something about how the dregs of my past would still result in great beauty. He was, but it was a bit more complicated than what had already passed. I’d had a difficult childhood due to severe bullying and my marriage was in its death throes. I thought this was His way of telling me the good times were about to begin.

Between 2 and 4 years later, on October 3, 1999, my marriage imploded. I don’t even know if that sugar maple tree remains, but I doubt it.

The kids and I left that home on Lincoln Street and embarked on a new life far (relatively) away.

In the spring of 2022, I restarted the sugar maple dream, and it became once again a (not the but a) route through which YHWH spoke to me.

When I planted it, it was about five feet tall. That fall, it didn’t put on much of a show with its leaves.

In 2023, to my surprise, a very tall branch sprang from the middle up toward the sky. For some reason, I’d thought new branches would appear all around the tree and be equally tall.

I continued to tend the tree carefully making sure to give it water in dry seasons. In the fall, the leaves of the lower branches did transform into things of beautiful colors, but not those on the tall branch in the middle.

This year, the same thing happened. The tall branch appeared in the middle and began to leaf out. A few weeks ago, the branches on the lowest part of the tree turned orange and yellow. Now, the branches in the middle part are turning. The leaves at the very top are still green. It may be memory is not working and the very top did change last year albeit very late. We’ll see what happens this year.

YHWH spoke to me again.

The growth I’m experiencing right now (yes, growth is possible even at the age of 63 or even 103) is happening but is not yet glorious. I need to wait on my Lord and His timing and keep renewing my mind (Romans 12:2) to make my thoughts more like His and hopefully be able to hear Him more readily when He speaks to me.

Shalom shalom, my friends.

Extravagant Love

I originally wrote this in 2015. A few months later the BFF struggling with Alzheimer’s went to be with Jesus; a few months after that my angel Rod followed her. I hardly recognized the positive person who wrote what follows. Dear Father, help me find her again . . .

I John 3:1 (The Voice) Consider the kind of extravagant love the Father has lavished on us—He calls us children of God! It’s true; we are His beloved children

Ephesians 5:2 (The Message) Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn’t love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that.

Last night, I attended a bridal shower/Pampered Chef party. There were probably a dozen ladies squeezed into the moderate-size dining and living rooms. At one point, someone brought up my battle with cancer, and I told the group I am currently cancer free. The Pampered Chef dealer, who is more friend than acquaintance, commented that had been a real trial in my life. I agreed but told her it was pretty far down on the list of life storms I’ve encountered in the current century. She seemed a bit taken aback by that. How could anything be worse than a cancer that nearly took my life more than once?

I gave the matter considerable thought during the 15-minute drive home. Why was that particular battle so far down on my list of “really bad things”?

Number one on my really-bad-things list is, of course, loved ones away from the Lord. I’ve taken Jeremiah 31:16-17 as my Rhema Word, my personal promise from God, concerning my children and step-children. Those verses say that “my eyes” will see my children return from the enemy’s land. Note it doesn’t say my spiritual eyes. Although I know my Father is well aware of these words in His Bible, I try to remind Him about them frequently.

Number two was the suicide of my father.

Number three was my divorce from the father of my children.

Number four is mental illness experienced by me and several loved ones.

Cancer is number five.

And that’s only talking about what’s happened in the past 15 years. There were some things from much farther back in my life which would go higher on the list.

Why?

How dare I treat cancer—a terrible disease with which so many have struggled, are struggling, or even have succumbed to—as a lesser evil than some of the other items listed above.

Love.

It’s the only explanation I can come up with.

Item #1 on the really-bad-things list occurs when someone rejects God’s love.

Item #2 occurs when a spouse is rejected by his/her mate. The spouse’s love is rejected by the mate. The mate’s love, for whatever reason, has died.

Item #3 occurs when a person chooses to reject the love of God and the love of everyone else in his/her life.

Item #4 occurs when a mind, either through disease or abuse, becomes incapable of rational thought and will sometimes reject the love of God and other people. Item #3 is the most serious extreme of this.

Cancer, though? Most people who are victims of this are innocent victims having done nothing to bring about the situation. They haven’t necessarily rejected love.

In my own experience with cancer, I was surrounded by love. First the love of my Heavenly Father whose mighty hands guided the human hands of my caretakers, the love of Jesus who sat one night in a rocking chair next to my hospital bed to keep me company, and the Holy Spirit whose Presence I could sense even in the lowest of lows physically.

Then there was the love of people.

My husband was so angry at the devil for bringing this upon me that many of his friends were more worried and prayed more fervently about his emotional state than my physical one. And, although he admittedly hates to read, he would often read to me out of the Bible, was quick to do so whenever I asked. He is a concrete truck driver, my illness occurred in July and August, the busiest time of year for that business, but he would always rush home from work, shower, drive another 30 minutes to get to the hospital, and spend the evening with me. His love, in part, is what drug me, sometimes kicking and screaming, back into the land of the living.

My mother. If anything, she was even more stubborn than my husband in refusing to let me loose my sometimes fragile hold on earthly life. Her love was the perfect mother’s love.

My children. My son, as a man, is not real comfortable with expressing his emotions. But he visited enough during my sickness there was no doubt that he loved me. My daughter rode in the ambulance with me en route to my second hospital stay. She worried about me. She researched everything she could find on the internet about my form of cancer and learned that at the time I had a 5-year mortality rate of 60%. Next July will be my 5-year-mark, and I have remained cancer free.

My sisters. Before my first surgery, I charged both of them with the task of assuming motherhood for my children should anything go wrong. They both tearfully but willingly accepted the assignment, promising to love and pray for my kids as though they were their own.

My best friends. One of them was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. She would repeat to me over and over during this time that “a merry heart doeth good like a medicine.” Amazing. The other BFF was at my house the day after my first release from the hospital bearing a beautiful gift, a large piece of art which read, “Faith is not believing that God can answer prayer; it is knowing that He WILL.” It has a prominent position in my house on the wall above the archway between my living room and kitchen, a constant reminder of what my soul frequently forgets.

My doctors. Although I wouldn’t go so far as to say any of them “loved” me, the care they felt for me was tangible. They were concerned not just with my physical health but with my emotional well being.

My pastor and his wife. Pastor Larry visited me several times throughout all three of my hospitalizations. He was there for every surgical procedure. Wendy and the children came with him once during my second hospital stay. He visited me during my homebound convalescence. He prayed with me. Those times were times when the supernatural peace of God flooded my being. No matter the aches and downright pain I was feeling in so many places on my body; no matter the fact that a stranger had taken up residence in my head; there could be no discounting that overwhelming sense of well-being and—dare I say it—joy! that permeated my soul after those prayers.

Even my husband’s boss. Dan loves Rod; there’s no doubt about that. He also loves my sister, Jessie, who manages the office of his concrete plant. He barely knew me. But one day he visited me in the hospital when no one else was there. Taking a seat in the chair next to the bed, he told me he was very worried about Jessie. He told me flat out he didn’t know if I would live or die. He was the only person ever brave enough to tell me that; he knew I didn’t fear death. Indeed, I feared more the unknown entity of the stranger in my head than going to live with Jesus. Dan reminded me I needed to consider how Jessie, and others, would handle the situation if the outcome of my illness was not the one they were praying for. Toward that end he left me a packet of short scriptures on cards and a cute little stand to place them on. I kept the same scripture right in front of me on the hospital tray throughout the remainder of that hospital stay.

So . . . love.

That’s the difference between items 1-4 and item #5. Although love was undoubtedly present in each of those situations, it was soooo hard to find. Remember that in your sharing love with God and the people He has placed in your life. Don’t be stingy with your love. It’s not like you can ever use it all up.

Be extravagant.

What do you think it means to love extravagantly. How does such a thing feel?
Have you ever been the recipient of this type of love?
What will you do today to show this love to
1. A family member?
1. A friend?
1. A stranger?