Petals from the Basket

Blog

The Impact of a Caring Friend

A few weeks ago, I re-posted on social media the link to a post I had written in 2015 following the death of my friend Betty Henderson. (You may read it here later.) In this post, I am sharing with you, following her death this past Saturday, January 10, 2026, the impact that yet another friend, Tonia Witmer Owen, made on my life.

Writing is my way to honor the earthly life of my friend. It is my way to share the heavenly focus of my friend. It is my way to grieve the earthly passing of my friend.

Tonia and I both attended a Christian boarding school in South Carolina. She was from West Virginia; I, from Iowa at the time. We realized early on that we shared the boring middle name of “Lee” and crafted nicknames for each other that stuck right up until the last exchange of messages via social media: Toni Lee and Beena Lee. Though our friendship and our lives drifted in different directions, the loving names that joined us in more ways than just our common 1960’s middle name withstood the test of time.

Because we were both from out of state, we lived in the dormitory. Actually, there were many dorms at the time, and we lived in different ones. However, our visits back and forth, our shared lunches, our walks together across campus—they all drew us closer together.

I loved the arts; Tonia loved serving . . . and working hard at whatever she did. I loved being on stage—singing, acting, speaking—and Tonia loved serving behind the scenes. It wasn’t that she was bashful or awkward. She was anything but that.

It boiled down to the fact that she was content with who she was. She didn’t need the limelight; she didn’t need to be the “most likely to . . . “; she needed to be Tonia—serving, loving, caring, encouraging, and praying.

And oh, how Tonia prayed for me, and with me, even as a high school student. She didn’t pray that I’d ace the test. She’d pray, right there in front of me, that I would learn to study well and use my time wisely so that I could do well on the test. She prayed for my heart to be humble (which it most definitely was not) and for my walk with God to be sincere.

She didn’t condemn.

She cared.

In college, we both worked in the bookstore on campus, allowing us to see each other often and to continue our friendship. During those years, however, our lives headed into different areas of interest; she, a church ministries major (because she knew, deep in her heart, that she would be serving alongside a pastor one day, if that was what God had for her, and she wanted to be fully prepared for that calling); I, a music education major, singing in choirs, serving through numerous areas of campus leadership.

I was on TV; she was studying, preparing, learning more of God. Neither is bad; neither is wrong. I shared that only to emphasize how the paths were so different from one another.

When Tonia and Phil began dating, it was abundantly clear that this was not a short-term interest. I was excited for her! I had dated quite frequently; she had led a quieter social life in many ways.

Don’t get me wrong. Tonia was not a wallflower. She brought light and joy (from within, where Christ was clearly reigning in her heart) to all that she did and to everyone she met. She had many friendships—deep and abiding friendships—with people from all walks of life.

Tonia and Phil married at her parents’ lovely home in West Virginia. The deck had a stairway that led to a large, picturesque yard that ended at the base of a mountain. It had rained every Saturday for more weeks than I can accurately remember, yet in her great, maturely childlike faith and trust in the goodness of God, Tonia knew she should go ahead with her plans to marry her dear Phil in that outdoor location.

It was a gorgeous day. The local newspaper even interviewed her family regarding their faith that the weather would “cooperate.”

It was a splendid celebration of God’s love and of their love for one another. I was a bridesmaid and sang a solo that put Christian words of dedication to the tune of “Londonderry Air/Danny Boy.” It was an honor to be part of such a sacred, special, joyous event.

More time passed. Tonia attempted to contact me. However, my life had gone pear-shaped after a broken engagement, and I was ashamed that my accomplishments felt like a big, fat zero.

What I now know is that Tonia didn’t care about my accomplishments. She cared about me. She wanted to know that I was moving forward spiritually and in my faith. I, again, being focused on myself and how my “lack of . . . ” would appear (so I thought) to others, I simply stayed away under the guise of a busy life.

Tonia and I eventually reconnected via social media, and the point of this entire post became very clear at that time: While I was busy making a “splash,” Tonia was consistently making an impact.

Tonia all-too-recently shared with everyone that she had a form of brain cancer, and she requested not sympathy, but prayers, visits, words of encouragement, Scripture on which she could meditate. In what seemed like days (only a few months, actually), she was gone. But only from this earth. Tonia is healed, praising her Savior face to face. Her faith—and oh, it was such a strong and solid faith—is now sight!

Over the last four days I have said to my husband numerous times, “Tonia made an impact, first and foremost for Christ. I want that to be my focus, my purpose, my goal. I want to take time for people. To serve others before it’s too late. As cliche as it sounds, I want to be more like Tonia, and in so doing, I will be more like Christ.”

Tonia did it right, for the right reasons. She had a long obedience in the same direction. And that, my dear faith friends, is how you make an impact . . . without even trying.

[Photo copied from Tonia’s online obituary via Facebook/Meta]

By Petals from the Basket | January 13, 2026 | Friends |

Honoring Those No Longer with Us . . . .

I’ve not only noticed a Facebook/IG trend through the years; I’ve been a participant: commemorating the anniversary of a loved one’s passing. Generally, the loved one is remembered for their character qualities, acts of kindness, impact on remaining generations, and the lessons that they taught through all of the above.

Perhaps that’s why, on this day, I feel compelled to share the impact of Someone I love dearly—Someone Whose death is honored on this day, though it is likely not the exact anniversary of His death.

As for His character qualities, they seem exaggerated when I say from my heart that they are unmatched by anyone else in history. His integrity kept Him honest. His greatness kept Him humble. His love kept Him true to His promises. His character was flawless, making Him trustworthy.

As for His acts of kindness, He loved all of humankind, regardless of the vast differences between them. He forgave (and continues to forgive) those who have gone so far as to hate Him, to harass Him, to deny knowing Him—and even those who say they love Him when they show only signs of selfishness. People like me. His greatest act of love and kindness is what cost Him His life on this day that we commemorate and on which we reflect. My wrongdoings would have cost me an eternity of punishment. But this Great Man, this loving One about Whom I write, said, “I’ll take her punishment. I’m guiltless Myself, but I’ll take her guilt—because I love her . . . and all who are like her in their inability to ever rid themselves of the punishment on their own. Herein is the deepest of love.

When speaking of the deceased, our honoring of them would be incomplete without acknowledging their legacy. Legacy endures, evidenced when the lessons that were nurtured and taught are lived out in the lives of those who remain—and in those of future generations yet to come. This Man I honor today was the epitome of impacting the world around Him—and the entire world, in His case. His life and legacy were permanently recorded for future generations to learn from. His words were written down so that all of humankind (present and future) could know of His love and of the sacrifice He made on this day that we honor.

He taught us to love each other (as He, Himself did); He taught us to forgive each other (as He, Himself did); He taught us to live the lessons His Father taught Him.

His death gave value to our lives. No one—not one person—would take the punishment for someone they hate. But only One Man, this Jesus of Whom I write, would take the punishment for those who have hated Him—because He loved them.

The thrilling part of this eulogy, honoring the One I love more than my own life, is that it is temporary. Unlike anyone else in history, He did not remain dead . . . Sunday’s comin’!

By Petals from the Basket | April 18, 2025 | Uncategorized |

Touchdown!

Yes. I love football. Even my “About” page includes a shoutout to my favorite college team. (Go, Irish!) In fact, several years ago, I posted a survey to gather input from readers on my then-current topic choices, and more than one reply scolded me with: “You talk about football too much!”

Tonight, my thoughts returned to this too-long-neglected website and my faith-based blog here. Ironically, what motivated me to write tonight was the football game currently playing in the background. I watched as a player simply refused to be taken down before crossing the ever-important first-down line. He was pushed from behind, yet he somehow managed to maintain his balance. Then someone on his right side came at him full force. Nope. He wouldn’t give in. He swayed to the left, again keeping his footing somehow intact—and moving forward in spite of the attacks intended to stop him.

The entire time, his eyes were fixed on the yard line that he knew he needed to reach in order for his team to retain possession of the ball. He didn’t look over, back, or around at the opposition. He looked forward, toward his assignment, and he was not about to be stopped.

He got the first down.

In that moment—well, after I shouted out a heartfelt, “Woo hoo!”—I questioned my own passion for reaching my goals. It is with regret that I share that I am too easily distracted by the opposition, and that too often I take my eyes off of the assignment God has entrusted to me. I become enamored by everything but what I’m supposed to be running toward—actually, Who I should be running toward.

However, my session of “life lessons from the NFL” didn’t end there.

About three plays later, a pretty well-known, highly skilled player dropped the ball that was thrown to him. He knew it was his fault, dropped to his knee, and was angry with himself for messing up what could have been a great play. Yet, here was the second part of the lesson I needed tonight: He didn’t stay down. He jumped back up, shook it off, and had a look of determination that told the crowd and all the viewers at home that he was not going to be overcome by a past failure. He knew what to do, what his assignment was, and that he had the training and encouragement from his coach to do what needed to be done.

Two plays later, he made an amazing catch that, in the next play, led to an incredible, much-needed touchdown!

Football fan or not, you’ve been equipped by the greatest Teacher/Coach of all time to do what needs to be done. Don’t let people, things, or anything the opposition throws at you distract you. Keep your eyes on Jesus.

And when you stumble, fail, mess up—get back up.

Lean into His grace.

Keep running toward Jesus!

Eyes on the goal!

For further reading:

Hebrews 12:1-2

Philippians 3:13-14

By Petals from the Basket | January 13, 2024 | Bible Reading, Life Changes |

Herein Is Love

My husband just left to pick up our online grocery order. Instead of the traditional kiss we share before one of us leaves the house, I made a request many of you may question at first glance.

“Please don’t buy me flowers. I think I might cry the entire weekend if you come through that door with yellow roses.”

He understood. Nodded his head in acknowledgment. And headed to the store.

No, we’re not angry with each other. No, our marriage isn’t struggling.

Joe and I on our wedding day
September 3, 2016

We’re sick. Both of us. Sick as sick can be with some kind of upper respiratory crud [not that—we’re “negative”] that has us simply clicking a remote or turning pages or readjusting our pillows and then needing a nap because of so much “strenuous” activity. We’re trying not to talk, because we both start coughing when we do. Hence, the understanding nod.

We’re fine. We’re soon to be well-stocked with groceries, etc. So please, keep reading, because there’s so much more to this post than my taking the opportunity to whine in writing!

What I really want to talk about is the past seven years—seven years’ worth of learning about love.

So let’s start with my telling you what has me so contemplative while sniffing, coughing, napping, and downing more fluid than reasonable for someone doing so much napping.

This weekend is our seventh anniversary.

To celebrate, dear Joe was going to take me to a hot-air-balloon festival this morning. (I have a long-running fascination with and love for hot-air balloons. I mean, come on, they’re beautiful, float with grace, and seem like the epitome of simplistic, old-school enjoyment to me.) Following a sunrise launch of the balloons, we were going to visit the festival vendors, enjoy being outdoors after his week of having “the crud,” and watch the Notre Dame football game (if you’re new here, just know that I’m a fan…an avid fan).

And that was only the beginning. As for Sunday, we were looking forward to celebrating the Lord’s Supper with our church family, serving as “after-service counselors” with those who seek to talk with someone or pray with someone after the sermon, and then heading downtown to an anniversary dinner at a favorite fine-dining restaurant nearby.

Doesn’t that sound like a glorious way to celebrate—the way love should be celebrated—with memory-making events and delightful conversations during our moments of togetherness? Yet here we sit, recline, or lie down…coughing yet again.

Several years ago, after seeing my parents love—truly love—one another beautifully during what was probably the hardest time in their lives (which ended in my father’s passing away in 2015), I wrote a post that I’d love for you to read after you finish this one. You can access it by coming back and clicking here. I saw them live out God’s definition of love as defined and described in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8, and I knew that theirs was the kind of love I desired.

You would think that marrying for the first time at the age of fifty-five would have given me plenty of time to have entered into marriage fully prepared, having shed my once idealistic view of perfect days and social-media-worthy photos of the kind of love everyone desires. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful beyond words for the days that often feel like that and for the truly godly man God allows me to call “husband.” But weekends like these remind me of something very important.

Love doesn’t always look like watching colorful hot-air balloons drift heavenward at sunrise, holding hands while shopping at a small-town festival, and dining on elegant dinners in a setting that envelops you with celebratory ambiance.

Sometimes, love looks like Mucinex DM, grocery pickup, and a fresh box of tissues.

I love you, Joe Henderson…for all of our tomorrows.

By Petals from the Basket | September 2, 2023 | Events, Family, Life Changes |

3 Steps to Easier Decision Making

You didn’t click on this to read three lengthy introductory paragraphs reiterating the importance of making good decisions. So let me give you, instead, a three-sentence backstory: Joe and I were making some pretty major decisions this past week. We utilized this method, helping to eliminate future doubt about the decisions we were making. We hope it will help you to do the same as you implement these tools through which to filter the choices you face now or in the future. (Three sentences! You didn’t think I could do it, did you?)

Establish your personal mission statement—then utilize this statement as your first filter

Wait! Don’t leave yet. It may sound complex, but this step isn’t hard. It’s a one-time step that will, in the future, simply form the top layer of the sieve through which you will filter your decisions. In fact, this step can both influence and reflect your current priorities. (I say “current priorities” because priorities can change as the seasons of our lives change.) Here are the basics:

— A basic mission statement will succinctly state what you believe your purpose to be. Knowing your purpose (your “why”) is imperative.

As a woman of faith, I think it is wise to form your mission statement through the use of a Bible verse (in our case, two verses, Psalm 71:17-18) to summarize your current why. The reason I don’t come up with some catchy slogan of my own? Scripture never changes. Its timeless truths endure.

— A basic mission statement takes the onus off of you. Similar to the way in which Christ used the pre-established words of God when the evil one made multiple efforts to tempt him, responding to difficult decisions with an unchanging filter from Scripture will strengthen your resolve. When you know that God (through His Word) is the source of the words within your mission statement, you don’t have to rely on your current emotions, opinions, or feelings to sway you away from doing the right thing in this particular situation. These aren’t your flexible words of possible truth; these are God’s words of established truth.

— A basic missions statement helps to unclutter your thought process. If the action, purchase, thought, career, relationship, etc. doesn’t make the initial cut through the filter of established Scripture, you eliminate it then and there—no more time spent pondering, wondering, considering the what-ifs or the if-onlys. If what you’re considering passes through this filter, then move to the next step in your decision-making process.

Evaluate the cost—this includes time, finances, relationship-impacts, and likely consequences (both positive and negative)

If you have the time (or can ungrudgingly make the time) to devote to it, can afford it now (or already have the money set aside), see it as a means of strengthening positive relationships or helping you to establish boundaries from the influence of negative ones, and see the resulting consequences as beneficial to yourself and/or others—go for it!

If, however, continuing through any of these filters violates the initial filter of your mission statement, stop now. Use this level to help you eliminate any existing negatives. If question marks remain, send it back through these first two filters. If you have a clear path to move ahead, you’re ready for the final step.

Establish a plan—this allows you yet another opportunity to filter out any obstacles that still exist

In actuality, this is far from the final step. It is, instead, the next step. At each point along the way, you should continue to apply the previous filters. Things change. What was a good decision yesterday may have been changed by others, by circumstances you have no control over, or by more information coming to light.

Your filters, up to this point, have allowed this decision to make it to the “go-for-it” stage. So…until or unless things change, go for it.

However, and this is the clincher, a decision to move forward requires you to do just that—move forward. A decision to enact the decision is perhaps the most important decision of all.

So there you have it. Yes, it’s more involved than three little steps, but my hope and prayer is that these initial actions will help you to follow the most important step, found in Proverbs 16:3 (ESV): “Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established.”

By Petals from the Basket | May 20, 2023 | Uncategorized |