
New Memoir AND THEN GOD STEPPED IN Shares Testament to God's Love and Blessings
Charleston, SC, May 07, 2025 (GLOBE NEWSWIRE) — Co-founder of In the Garden Missions and Greater Heights Missions, John Womack witnessed the power of God's love firsthand while serving in the mission field of Africa. Called to be a part-time missionary in 2011, he led eighteen different mission trips to Uganda before retiring, and time after time, he saw all the amazing ways in which God intervened in their ministry to bless the lives of the Ugandan people. Having discovered a new appreciation for Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, John looks to inspire a new generation of missionaries in his new memoir.
In 'And Then God Stepped In,' John invites readers to embark on a spiritual journey. Recounting how he observed God's love in action in Uganda, John reminds readers of God's presence and direction in their own daily lives. 'God is constantly at work,' John says. 'His love for all people is infinite, and His blessings await those who have faith.' This moving memoir is a must-read for anyone looking to grow their faith or for those who feel called to serve God through ministry.
'And Then God Stepped In' is available for purchase on Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com.
About the Author:
John Womack is a retired businessman and former part-time missionary. He is the co-founder of In the Garden Missions and Greater Heights Missions and has led eighteen mission teams to Uganda, Africa. A CPA with an MBA, he worked for over fifty years as a financial controller. In his final year of missionary service, he was awarded an Honorary Doctor of Ministry from Global Bishops, Apostles and Ministers Academy recommended by Rev. Dr. Medad Birungi.
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Atlantic
2 hours ago
- Atlantic
Five Baha'i Lessons for a Happier Life
Want to stay current with Arthur's writing? Sign up to get an email every time a new column comes out. One of the biggest gripes I have about my academic field of social science is that it explains a lot about human behavior but is very short on prescriptions for how to live day to day. Even when it does have something suggestive to offer, the research almost never supplies evidence of whether its widespread adoption would have a positive effect. The same deficiency is even truer for philosophy, a realm in which big thoughts about life usually remain abstract ideas. In my case, I can resort to a branch of human knowledge that parallels social science and philosophy and is a true laboratory of human behavior and experience. In this field, people think big ideas and act differently because of them, and then we can observe whether doing so enhances their lives. I am talking about religion. Religions in effect ask people to opt into mass human experiments, which require them to convert to a new way of thinking and to live differently from nonbelievers, all in pursuit of particular benefits (both in life and after death). Even for those who don't practice a religion and merely observe religious people, such study can be an invaluable source of information. Indeed, researchers have shown that learning about different faiths promotes a deeper understanding of psychology and culture. Listen: Can religion make you happy? I was reminded of this recently when my friend Rainn Wilson (of The Office fame), who hosts a popular spiritual podcast called Soul Boom, texted me some words of encouragement from his personal faith, Baha'i (pronounced buh- high), in response to a note of desolation I had sounded about the state of the world: 'All men have been created to carry forward an ever-advancing civilization.' His meaning, as I took it, was that we should see such troubles not as a reason for despair but as a blessed opportunity to meet the greater need for love and happiness. Intrigued by Wilson's religiously inspired advice, I decided to dig further into the Baha'i faith. There, I found valuable lessons about happiness that can benefit anyone, regardless of religious commitment. The Baha'i faith originated as an offshoot of Islam, in mid-19th-century Persia (known today as Iran), with pronouncements about God and life from a prophet named Bahá'u'lláh. His teaching—that all religions are valid and come from a loving God—spread quickly and gained many followers. After Bahá'u'lláh's death, the faith was passed down through his son 'Abdu'l-Bahá and great-grandson Shoghí Effendi, and disseminated by many other teachers. Because Baha'i teachings departed from Islam, they were considered heresies by Persian clerics, and the faith and its proponents were violently suppressed. Bahá'u'lláh himself was first imprisoned and then exiled; many of his followers were executed. To this day in Iran, the Baha'i faith is illegal and its followers are persecuted—barred from attending university, holding a government job, or inheriting property. Despite this repression in its place of origin, Baha'i's message is remarkably positive and nonapocalyptic. The faith now counts more than 5 million adherents worldwide, including about 175,000 in the United States. Bahá'u'lláh spoke often about happiness in spite of worldly troubles, which he saw as a normal feature of life, even a part of God's plan. 'Happy is the man that hath apprehended the Purpose of God in whatever He hath revealed from the Heaven of His Will,' he said. He was certainly onto something: As social scientists have shown, middle-aged people who trust God in the face of hardship have lower depression and better self-rated health than those who don't, and people who choose to focus optimistically on the positive aspects of life enjoy much greater well-being than those who don't. To accentuate the positive is not to deny present difficulty or suffering. In fact, acknowledging pain is central to realizing a better future. 'Men who suffer not, attain no perfection,' taught 'Abdu'l‑Bahá. 'The more a man is chastened, the greater is the harvest of spiritual virtues shown forth by him.' This message contradicts our prevailing modern culture that pain is a pathology to be eliminated; it teaches instead the deeply needed truth that suffering is a part of every life and important for learning and growth. This is consistent with the large literature on post-traumatic growth, which shows that making sense of suffering in life tends to enhance personal resilience, spiritual capacity, appreciation for life, and relationships with others. Baha'i teaching is rigorous, spiritual, and deeply moral, which runs counter to a modern libertine culture that valorizes instant pleasure and transactional ethics. 'Happiness consists of two kinds; physical and spiritual,' 'Abdu'l-Bahá taught. 'The physical happiness is limited; its utmost duration is one day, one month, one year. It hath no result. Spiritual happiness is eternal and unfathomable.' This is an age-old argument, reaching back to the ancient Greek conflict between hedonia (pleasure seeking) and eudaimonia (virtue seeking). The quest for virtue yields better results according to empirical scrutiny, which finds that eudaimonia delivers more lasting well-being. Another point that we moderns typically neglect is an assertion that Shoghí Effendi made: 'The more we make others happy the greater will be our own happiness and the deeper our sense of having served humanity.' In other words, you can't be happy by working solely on your own well-being; in fact, you're well advised not even to start with your own happiness in mind. As psychologists have long shown in experiments, acts of kindness toward others are far better at producing happiness than what has entered the lexicon as 'self-care.' When people are induced to help others in an activity, recalling that experience gives them higher positive emotion than having worked for their own gain. These teachings may seem like reminders, rather than new ideas, about how to live a good and upright life. Indeed, more recent Baha'i teaching has emphasized the pitfalls of novelty: The 20th-century scholar and historian Adib Taherzadeh warned against 'trivial or sensational ideologies' that lead to 'cults which become fashionable for a time. But when the novelty wears off or dissatisfaction sets in,' the adherents are left still searching for the next big thing—and 'few have found happiness or peace of mind.' This insight is profoundly important today, at a time when the internet offers novel identities and lifestyles that beguile the most vulnerable but tend to lower well-being and a sense of life's meaning. When it comes to love, sacrifice, and charity, the old ways are—for the most part—the best ways. Arthur C. Brooks: How to make life more transcendent Taken together, these Baha'i tenets form a strategy for living that, to my mind, combines the best of behavioral science and philosophy. They also offer the added advantage of being tried and tested by millions of Baha'i believers who have found that these teachings help build a good life. In that spirit, I have started following these five lessons as part of my morning practice of reflection and meditation—and I can report that I very much like the effect they're having on my life. 1. Have faith in the future. Whatever may come to pass is all part of the greater plan. Conform your will to the divine will, and you will find that it is good. 2. Are you uncomfortable? Good. This means that you are learning and growing as a person, because all growth comes with experiencing discomfort. 3. Today, seek happiness that is deeper than what comes from easy pleasures. Pass on the recreations that offer only empty calories and turn away from time-wasting distractions. Instead, look to what nourishes the body and soul. 4. You cannot be happy yourself without the happiness of others. Seek first to uplift, and then be uplifted. To serve others is to expand your own well-being. 5. There are no corners to cut in being the person you want to be. Today, live the truths of the ancient wisdom without hesitation or embarrassment before the modern world. Ignore the passing fads with their hollow promises. These abridged lessons are no substitute for a deeper understanding of Baha'i, which is, after all, an actual religion, not a self-help philosophy. With that caution in mind, I sent this essay to Wilson to get his feedback as a true follower of the Baha'i faith. Expressing his approval, he offered a few words about how Baha'i has affected his own life: What I love about my faith is that it provides a two-fold moral path toward meaning and joy. One is more internal, filled with mystical writings to foster spiritual growth and connect us to the divine winds; the other is more externally focused, where service to humanity and our role in that arena act as a spiritual compass. In the faith we strive to walk both paths—seeking internal enrichment and wisdom while also trying to make the world a more loving place. To a happiness specialist (and devoted Catholic) like me, this is deeply compelling. As Rainn knows—because he couldn't resist adding: 'You should definitely convert, bro.'
Yahoo
8 hours ago
- Yahoo
'They really took care of me': Cudahy veteran who died at 91 credited the VA as a lifeline
Don "Sam" Notham was a fierce defender of the VA. He described the Zablocki VA Medical Center as a lifeline that helped him survive several bouts of cancer, a broken hip, and multiple surgeries. "It must be 20 years that I'm with the VA," Notham said in an interview with the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel shortly before his death. "And I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the VA. They really took care of me." Notham died Aug. 3 at age 91. In his final months, as the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs faced cuts and questions about its future, Notham often talked with family and friends about how much the agency had meant to him. The VA, which operates 170 hospitals and more than 1,300 outpatient clinics, has undergone turmoil in recent months amid cuts, canceled contracts, and uncertainty under the Trump administration. After announcing plans to fire more than 76,000 employees early this year, the agency backtracked in July, saying it was on pace to reduce staff by around 30,000 people instead. For Notham, the VA was a haven he relied on for decades to get top-notch medical care. And he wanted to protect it and the workers who had taken care of him. Army veteran helped restore native habitat on abandoned farm Notham was born in Durand, a city of about 2,000 people on the banks of the Chippewa River in western Wisconsin. He served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War. Shortly before Notham was set to deploy overseas, the Korean Armistice Agreement was signed, ending the fighting. After his military service, he volunteered at the American Legion and Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) throughout the 1960s and 1970s. Notham also worked at the Ladish Company in Cudahy for about 30 years, where he was a mechanical engineer, union steward and manager. He retired in 2003. By the late 1980s, he was looking for a retirement project and found one near Wild Rose in central Wisconsin: an abandoned 19th century potato farm. 'When you look at pictures of what the house and the barn looked like, I sometimes think my mom should have been mad at him for buying it,' his son John Notham said. Back then it was forty acres of barren land with crumbling buildings. "They were falling apart," John said. "The barn was leaning two feet to the right and the house looked uninhabitable. I mean, they were from the 19th century." With the help of his family and neighbors, Notham transformed the land into a thriving tree farm. He planted more than 20,000 trees, mainly balsam and white pine trees, and restored about ten acres of native prairie habitat. Notham harvested some for Christmas trees, but grew most for timber. A small percentage have been harvested for paper and particle board pulp. He was committed to being a responsible steward of the land, John said. When Notham needed furniture — or canes for walking — he used wood from the older oak trees on the property. Even last year when he was 90 years old, he still occasionally drove his tractor on his land. 'They kind of became his canvas in life,' John said. 'Nothing brought him more pleasure than to spend the day working on his land.' Notham's sons now own the farm and plan to continue his legacy by running it together. Notham spoke out about his positive experiences at the VA In his later years, Notham's appointments at the VA grew more frequent. He credited Zablocki with helping him recover from colon cancer in 2008, a knee replacement surgery in 2015, and esophageal cancer in 2023, in addition to several other health conditions. In an April interview about the VA with the Journal Sentinel before his death, Notham and his friend Sally Ann Burdecki pushed back against criticism of the agency as a slow-paced and inefficient bureaucracy. Burdecki praised Zablocki VA staffers as "just really on top of everything," including calling to remind them about appointments, offering valet parking when Notham was in poor health, keeping wait times short and following up after treatments. "Everybody was extremely polite and personable. Made you just feel good to be there," she said. "All of those little things just made life better when you're going through cancer, numerous treatments and different things." Notham said VA staffers responded with urgency when he needed something. "They've been good to me," Notham said. "I can't find anything bad." John said his father would want his family and friends to drink a toast to him rather than mourn his passing. "Enjoy being part of his legacy and take a walk in the woods or prairie," John said. "And leave the land a better place when you depart." Notham was preceded in death by his wife Elaine, daughter Judith Norberg and son Ross Notham. He is survived by his sons John (Ann Raghavan) Notham, James (Leigh) Notham and Gary (Kris) Notham, as well as his sisters, grandchildren, great grandchildren and many relatives and friends. Graveside service and honors will take place on Aug. 22 at Woodville Cemetery in Hancock at 11 a.m. A celebration of life will follow at the Moose Inn in Wautoma. This article originally appeared on Milwaukee Journal Sentinel: 91-year-old Cudahy veteran credited the VA as a lifeline Solve the daily Crossword


USA Today
a day ago
- USA Today
Untitled Art's non-alcoholic beers are sometimes boring, sometimes magic
I like non-alcoholic beer. Well, I like the *idea* of non-alcoholic beer. Being able to recreate the relaxing ritual of cracking a beer without the concern of a minor hangover or the massive calorie load of a boozy IPA is a wonderful hypothesis. But for too long, non-alcoholic beer all tasted the same -- crisply carbonated but undeniably loaded down with cereal grains that made you feel you were sipping a bowl of Grape-Nuts, not a lager. That tide has turned in recent years. Breweries, grasping for market share when America is drinking less alcohol than it has since prohibition, have turned to the NA sector for new streams of income. That's meant a rising tide of THC drinks and booze-free beers. Untitled Art has been kicking around in my fridge since back when it was 3rd Sign -- makers of a pretty good porter but shuttered due to distribution issues. In the years since they've experimented wildly across the spectrum of beers and NA beverages and eventually got bought out by Asahi. Those beers are often hit-or-miss, but they're never boring. Big, sweet dessert stouts and bold IPAs were standouts across the backdrop of contract brewing that's helped Octopi expand to a staple in package stores across the country. How does that apply to their non-alcoholic beers? Let's see what we've got. Mango dragonfruit sour: A I'm drinking this one the way God intended. After thoroughly exhausting myself inflating a raft at my daughter's pool. An extremely Dad scenario deserves an extremely Dad beer, and an NA fruited sour? That'll do. Cracking the can unleashes a wave of fruity slightly tangy aromas backed by just a little bit of lactic acid. The first sip is dense complex and rewarding. The dragon fruit is tangy; slightly sour but sweet enough to remain balanced. The hint of bile that you get from some of the worst sours out there is nowhere to be found, relieving me of my greatest fear. That bit of lactic acid in the slightly denser texture makes us feel more like a milkshake beer than many milkshake IPAs. What you get is a dense, surprisingly low calorie beer. Well, not a beer but, you know, something close to it. It clocks in at 90 calories, which is about 60 percent of a soda or a regular beer. At that value. You're getting a lot of flavor at a light beer's toll on your gut. That's a solid trade. The downside is it's not quite a hoppy refresher in the way a hop water or a light beer are. It's dense. It's more of a sipper and it's probably not the first thing I should have grabbed after modestly strenuous activity. That said, I am enjoying the hell out of it. All in all, it's not what I expected in a good way. It's not quite a sour and not quite a traditional NA beer. Instead, it is its own thing. And that's great. West Coast IPA: B+ The smell off the top is hoppy, with just enough of a stale malt lingering in the background to remind you this is a non-alcoholic beer. The first sip is sharp and refreshing. The bitterness of those hops is up front, but not overwhelming. You get a little of that malt and a crisp, dry finish that leaves you wanting more. That helps cover that traditional NA taste. It's still there, but it's minimal thanks to that beefy, but not tongue-scorching, hop cover. It's still undeniably a booze-free beer, but it's packing a lot of flavor beyond that. It's satisfying in a way similar beers are not. The downside is it's not as special as the dragonfruit sour. It's great for a non-alcoholic beer, but it's still operating within those parameters while the sour felt like something new entirely. The result is refreshing and capable of fulfilling the ritual of a full strength beer. Juicy IPA: B- Here's an interesting combination. Will the fruit of a juicy IPA be able to cover up the NA scent and taste so familiar with the genre? It worked wonders with the dragonfruit sour and I have some high hopes here. Cracking the can, however, unleashes a wave of non-alcoholic beer smells. There aren't a lot of fruit or hops involved spilling out of the aluminum. It's malt all the way. The first sip is crisper and more refreshing than I expected. It's not especially fruity or hoppy. It feels a little bit more like a lager than a pale ale. However, it's crisp. The carbonation is on point and that NA taste that you'd expect from the smell coming off the top doesn't overpower you. It's still very much a non-alcoholic beer, but it's not as egregious as some of the others in the category. Still, it feels like it's missing the mark as a pale ale. You get a hint of citrus toward the end of each sip, which is nice. But you don't really get any of the hops. There's nothing here to bring you back. It feels more like a Blue Moon or a Shock Top -- more forgettable than a big bold juicy IPA you would get from a local brewery. Italian Style Pils: B I'm a little bit hesitant with this one. Italian beers, at least the big ones you find out here, are fairly minimal when it comes to hops or other flavors that could wash over the signature taste of non-alcoholic brews. They're crisp and sharp and other adjectives that stand in for refreshing-but-not-quite-easy-drinking. This pours with a lovely, lacy head that dies down to a lingering quarter inch after a minute. The smell off the top is grain and just a bit of hops. That grain is half the Grape-Nut cereal malt that dominates NA beers and half something sunnier. There's a certain brightness involved that, if nothing else, does raise it higher than similar booze-less brews. That battle carries on in the first sip. It's undoubtedly an NA beer, but it's also sweet and crisp. That gives way to a pleasant aftertaste that lands in the middle. Malty, effervescent and with juuuuust a little citrus involved to make everything a bit more complex. These powers combine to make it refreshing and poundable. It's a great warm weather beer, though it holds up well enough regardless of climate. Chocolate Dark Brew: A First thing first: this smells incredible. Cracking the can unleashes a wave of rich chocolate like you just unwrapped one of those $6 bars of cacao. It smells like a fresh mug of hot chocolate. A really nice start. The first sip is thinner than expected. The carbonation is crisp, and while this is heavier than a lager it's about the same mouthfeel as, say, a big juicy IPA. You get that chocolate flavor, but also some roasted porter notes as well. You go from sweet up front to malty before a crisp, not-quite-dry-but-close finish. It's great. What's even better is the lack of NA cereal vibes coming from it. This tastes like a full-fledged chocolate porter. Maybe not a heavy, eight percent beer, but a lighter version. If you put this in a lineup of six similar, full ABV beers and asked me to pick out the impostor I might still land on it, but that's no guarantee. This sounds like faint praise, but almost anyone who's had a bunch of NA beers knows that distinct taste and how it stands out from your regular sip. Not this Dark Brew. It's sweet and crisp and a little complex. Untitled Art went for a dessert beer and wound up making something that would be just about perfect for a fireside fall night. Even without the alcohol. Oktoberfest: B Let's finish with my favorite beer style. Marzens, festbiers, anything that's a malt bomb is gonna be an easy win for me. Can Untitled Art balance those toasty, crisp and refreshing flavors with the inherent cereal-ness of a non-alcoholic beer? It pours with a fluffy white head. It smells mostly like the real thing, though a sweet, Grape-Nut tinge settles in toward the end. While the sweetness carries through on your tongue, that NA taste is minimal. The feeling you get here is Munich-adjacent malt. It's a bit thin and definitely too sugary, but it's not a typical non-alcoholic brew. That leaves it in a weird spot, but kind of a logical one. Untitled Art's best NA beers are sweet -- the sour and the chocolate dark. That sweetness again crops up to mitigate the feel you're drinking a beer with less than 0.5 percent alcohol by volume. That doesn't jive with your typical marzen, it does sorta work here. While I miss the crisp finish of those beers, this is unique, interesting and refreshing. On the other hand, I can put down a liter of Lowenbrau without issue. This? This would be much more difficult. Still, it doesn't taste like NA beer. That's a win. Would I drink it instead of a Hamm's? This a pass/fail mechanism where I compare whatever I'm drinking to my baseline cheap beer. That's the standby from the land of sky-blue waters, Hamm's. So the question to answer is: on a typical day, would I drink Untitled Art's non-alcoholic beers over a cold can of Hamm's? The sour and the chocolate dark are good enough to be sipped regardless of alcohol content. The others helpful recreate the ritual of cracking a beer. All in all, it's a solid lineup so, yes. This is part of FTW's Beverage of the Week series. Here, we mostly chronicle and review beers, but happily expand that scope to any beverage that pairs well with sports. Yes, even cookie dough whiskey.