Ella Mae Smith's lessons on Memorial Day live on

Treasured friend,

Early on this Memorial Day morning, I opened an email from a colleague. He quoted from Lincoln's dynamic ending of the Gettysburg Address:

"It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us, that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion, that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

Reading those majestic words transported me back to Fifth Grade civics class, presided over at Madison School in Park Ridge, Ill., by the imposing figure of one Ella Mae Smith. She drove a 1970 aqua Cadillac Coupe de Ville, parked every single morning in the first spot on the street in front of the
school, right where her students could see it as we debarked from our busses. She baptized herself daily in a distinctive cologne that (thankfully) I’ve never encountered anywhere else. Her “fragrance” accosted your nose as you stepped inside the building. No doubt about it—Ella Mae was in the house. She stood probably 5’11” (or so it seemed to my small self), and wore clothing and sturdy foundations that would make my grandmother proud. I think her very person made the principal tremble! She was an unavoidable force.

As in her routines, Mrs. Smith was equally undeviating in her lesson plans. Her curriculum was set to an arcane standard only she could force roomfuls of snotty kids to achieve year after year. When you reached her class, you knew what was coming. Incessant drill-downs on facts and dates. Snarky retorts (as in, I know you CAN, but MAY you?). And line after line of rote memorization of the classics. Including recitations of, yes, the Gettysburg Address.

I wonder if there exist teachers like Ella Mae anymore? (I'd never have dared to call her by her first name then, but she's no longer with us so I think I'm safe!). Those who hold a personal standard high and demand learning, not only demand but (I can see only now from this vantage point) facilitate it. On this holiday of remembering the ultimate sacrifice of thousands of brave freedom fighters representing our great land, I'm grateful that Ella Mae taught us not only the words, but the meaning, that "these dead shall not have died in vain" and that it is our turn now … "it is rather for us the living" … to continue the active pursuit of freedom. She put history in context and contemporized its implications. She forced us to think. She’d never let us slouch. And under her watch, at least we’d understand the roles we ought to play in the culture. The roles purchased for us in the blood of those who fought to secure our freedoms.

I looked up Ella Mae online this morning (sadly I couldn’t find a photo), but I did locate a contemporary of mine who posted on FB a scanned handwritten congratulatory letter she had sent to him when he graduated from high school. What struck me was her description of herself: “Your friend and former teacher (5th grade).” Seems to me I have one of those stashed somewhere in my mementoes, as well.

I don’t think I would have classified her as my BFF back in fifth grade, but now, I’m not so sure. I’m thinking that in demanding excellence from us and teaching us by example, Mrs. Ella Mae Smith may have been one of the best friends who ever crossed paths with my fifth-grade self.

Blessings and prayers, 

Julie 

© 2026, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Dissonance at the Source

On a sleepy Sunday afternoon our local PBS station aired a production of Franz Joseph Haydn's 1798 Oratorio "The Creation," featuring the London Philharmonic. In the tradition of Handel's "Messiah," the instruments and voices of Haydn's "Creation" soared at the composition's apex (the creation of man and woman)—full and rich, uplifting and strong.

Although this was dramatic, I found the opening even more so. The orchestra played a sonata in C minor, at once chaotic and beautiful. Then a bass soloist sang the Genesis 1 account: "And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep" (v. 2a kjv). Ominous. Foreboding. Pregnant with anticipation. The accompaniment was solemn and muted, written in a minor key.

Then, as light was separated from darkness, heaven from earth, land from sea, the oratorio increased in brightness and intensity. Just as God's peaceful order was established through each day of creation, the music followed suit, adding more voices and instruments in a controlled crescendo. The action unfolded as voices narrated each creation day's work, but every day the order remained intact.

The final chorus, in a major key, centers on praise: "The praise of the Lord will endure forever." And with that creation is complete, ordered, perfect.

But we all know the story didn't end there. Had Haydn's retelling continued to the scene that occurred in the shade of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, I can imagine the sounds he would have composed to indicate the entry of the serpent, the first juicy bite of fruit drizzling down Eve's chin, the victory dance of the Enemy who succeeded in enticing the weak humans to disobey the Creator. My mind hears violins playing high-pitched helter-skelter scales—the first violin section dissonant from the second violins, trombones making slippery sliding sounds, each percussion instrument throbbing to its own tempo, a frowning conductor who appears to have lost control of the whole production.

And so it is with God's world. When the chaos of sin marred the picture of perfection, it tampered with God's established order. God allowed the sounds of chaos to be audible for a time, until the advent of the Savior. When Jesus died for our sins and conquered Satan by defeating death, once again order superseded chaos. The score called the instruments of our souls to realign with the melody.

Unfortunately, the earth still shudders and shimmies, waiting for its redemption (Romans 8:18–21); many people continue to play their chaotic tunes. But for the believer, chaos no longer oozes from the sounds we produce. God offers His people peace. This peace is the music that flows from hearts comforted, secure, and quiet. ...

This world is full of hatred, of chaos, of decay and destruction. But the kingdom of God is full of love, of order, of glistening waters and shimmering golden streets. We come from a place of peace, so even when we live temporarily amid destruction, we take comfort that the "peace of God" guards our hearts and minds (Philippians 4:7).

 

Excerpted by permission from Praying Like Jesus by Julie-Allyson Ieron, (c) 2001, 2010. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, PM the author.

 

Blessings and prayers, Julie 

 © 2025, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Perfect Peace Revisited

Treasured friend,

Today, I want to share my father's favorite Scripture, his life verse. For him, this promise was a rock to build his life upon. I had an up-close seat to watch as he faced countless obstacles with grace, trust in the Lord, and peace. His example, and this uplifting passage, and still speak to me, even though Daddy has been in heaven for more than 10 years. I hope they have Father's Day in heaven -- and that somehow the Lord shows my dad how much I love and miss him--and how hard I try to follow his footsteps of faith, trust, and perfect peace.

He loved the song lyrics by Vivian Amsler Kretz based on this verse:

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace
Whose mind is stayed on Thee
When the shadows come and darkness falls
He giveth inward peace
O He is the only perfect resting place
He giveth perfect peace
Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace
Whose mind is stayed on Thee
CCLI Song # 150564

Blessings and prayers for your strength and comfort on this Father's weekend and all week long, 

Julie 

 © 2023, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

The Magnificent Story!

Treasured friend,

We have news of a new book just birthed in our offices. It's called The Magnificent Story and it's a brief, clear, poetic and engaging retelling of the one unified story that begins before Creation and ends (or rather begins more magnificently than ever) with the return of Christ at the end of Revelation. It's the story of Scripture, the one magnificent story that could only have been crafted and fulfilled by our awesome Creator. 

The book is lovely--featuring a four-color interior with tons of pictures and available in hardcover and paperback editions ... and the best part is that it's clear and easy to understand. It's designed to share in family reading or devotion times. And it closes with a prayer that invites every reader--young and older--to take up the role created especially for each of us in The Magnificent Story. 

My first audience for the live presentation that goes with the book was a group of older adults--in a senior living facility. I told the story in 47 minutes and 12 seconds. And they sat rapt and engaged throughout--early on a Sunday morning, no less! It's that engaging and energizing!

If you've ever wondered how the Scripture fits together, or if you've ever tried to read the Bible but couldn't figure out where to begin, this book is for you. 

Please, pick it up and share The Magnificent Story with those you care for. The moments you spend together with it could change someone's eternity ... or even yours!

Help us celebrate by viewing our Book Trailer 

and checking out our website joymediaservices.com  to learn more about this exciting project designed to share with your loved ones -- especially your aging loved ones!

Blessings and prayers, Julie 

 © 2023, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Spilled Coffee

Comedy of errors alert.

Just the other day, Mom's spill-proof coffee mug turned into a dribble glass when the gasket gave way. We were taking her car for its emissions test, and the poor dear ended up with a huge stain down the front of her new blouse and her white jeans. Back home, she changed and soaked the stained garments in her bathroom sink. All afternoon and evening she kept rubbing and spraying and adding water. She left them soaking overnight. I offered to spray Oxy on the stains, but she didn't want any help. She's highly self-reliant.

Fast-forward to the next morning. I'm in my suite, doing my daily devotions before coming down to breakfast. I was reading in Colossians 3: "Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other ..."

While I'm reading and praying, I keep hearing odd noises coming from her bathroom. No, not those kind. More like, swish and splash, swish and splash, swish and splash. It was rhythmic and kept going.

I kept reading ... compassion, kindness, patience ... Julie, don't bother her. Let her be.

Swish and splash. Swish and splash. Patience, Julie. Kindness.

Ok, Lord. I'm trying.

Finally after many minutes and no let-up, I closed the Bible and went to explore. I found Mom with a juice glass from the kitchen, bailing the sink one glassful at a time, and dumping the contents in the toilet. "Doesn't this sink have a drain plug lifter?"

"Sure, it's right here." And I pulled the plug, releasing the remaining soapy water.

"Why didn't you come help me? Didn't you hear what I was doing?"

"I was trying to be kind and patient." I read her the Scripture. We just looked at each other and laughed for a half hour straight. I think I even snorted more than once.

Patience, Julie, and kindness! And a bit of resourcefulness thrown in for good measure.

Blessings and prayers, Julie 

 © 2022, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

A Hospital Christmas

Treasured Friend,

Mom instilled in me a love for decorating our home for Christmas. We’re kinda obsessed. In fact, the day we bought our new townhouse, the former owner showed us a closet under the stairs, with lots of bonus storage. We looked at each other and exclaimed in duet: “Perfect for Christmas decorations!” He rolled his eyes.

But two Christmases ago, our decorations were limited to Charlie Brown’s tree and a plaque gifted from a technician at the hospital. These made up our desperate attempts to bolster our spirits as I battled for my life.

Let me set the scene for you as I tell it in my new book, Don’t Let This Throw You! (Available on Amazon) We want you to know how God showed up during our Christmas 2018, just two years ago, so you can be on the lookout for Him today as you celebrate Christmas 2020. 

On Christmas the hospital tried its best by offering a holiday menu. Culinary services in a hospital aren’t known for gourmet holiday fare. But they did try. They also allowed me to purchase a tray for Mom so we could enjoy our meal together.

Bridget, who was going to deliver our dinner, dressed as an elf that day. As we waited for her, we were looking for a TV program that wasn’t just our usual cooking, home improvement, and football. Lord let us find something that will help us focus on You.

We stopped on PBS when we heard Christmas carols originating in a great cathedral. After a few sets of carols and pop Christmas songs, an actor began narrating the story of the hymn: “It Is Well With My Soul.”

It’s a dramatic and powerful story. Horatio Spafford, a businessman who lost everything during the Great Chicago Fire, sent his wife and four daughters ahead of him to England on a ship. He was to follow.

But the family’s ship was lost at sea, and all of Spafford’s daughters drowned. He received a cable from his wife with the crushing message, “Saved alone.” He boarded the next ship to join her. At sea his captain called him on deck when they drew near to where the family’s vessel sank. Peering into the dark waters that claimed his daughters, Spafford penned the lyric of this beloved hymn.

This is a story Mom and I have told many times. Yet there was a portion I’d never heard before. After Spafford’s wife was rescued on that fateful night, in a rush of unbearable grief, she planned to throw herself back into the waves. In that moment a voice from heaven stopped her with the promise, “You have been saved for a purpose.”

My spirit keyed in on those words. Could it be that I, too, was being saved for a purpose? Most certainly, for that’s how our Lord works. He wastes no experience, and He allows nothing to touch us without eternally destined purpose. Saved for a purpose!

Soon, Mom and I began singing along with the cathedral choir. As we sang, our room became a sanctuary. My nurse started to come in to take my vitals, but she went out silently allowing us a few more sacred moments. Christ’s peace that comforted and soothed our brother and his wife all those years ago, met us on Christmas 2018 in the oncology ward. The Prince of Peace Whose birth we celebrated with a hospital ham dinner delivered by Elf Bridget and eaten beside Charlie Brown’s tree, was no less with us than He had been in years when we’d enjoyed a sumptuous spread among family and friends at Grandma’s dining table.

 

In this very different Christmas season, let’s relish the truth that no matter what, it is well with our souls. Mine. Mom's. And, if you have trusted Christ, it is well with YOUR soul right now. It is well. All is well. All because the Lord Jesus Christ entered our planet as a tiny baby on that silent, holy night. 

Blessings and prayers, 

Julie & Mom

 © 2020, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Treasured friend,

As I was thinking over the Thanksgiving songs we prepared in advance for our senior congregation to enjoy by closed-circuit TV tomorrow, the lyrics of the old classic danced through my mind. Soon, they became a prayer from my heart. My, how relevant is this old lyric to our situation today.

We gather together

To ask the Lord's blessing

(how we wish we could gather!)

He chastens and hastens

His will to make known

(sometimes correction is the most loving gift He can offer)

The wicked oppressing

Now cease from distressing

(please, Lord, we need your intervention!)

Sing praises to His name

He forgets not His own

(oh, what an amazing promise!)

Verse 2

Beside us to guide us

Our God with us joining

(maybe we're not alone after all!)

Ordaining maintaining

His kingdom divine

(we're not home yet!)

So from the beginning

The fight we were winning

Thou Lord wast at our side

All glory be Thine

(the only victory we can gain comes at His hand!)

Verse 3

We all do extol Thee

Thou Leader triumphant

(Oh, yes, that's what the holiday is to do ... thank our Lord!)

And pray that Thou still

Our Defender wilt be

(Please, God, defend us as only You can!)

Let Thy congregation

Escape tribulation

(Oh my, yes, please deliver us from evil!)

Thy name be ever praised

O Lord make us free.

(Free to sing our praise to You, Lord, together, forever!)

I found this a beautiful exercise in making rich lyrics my own. It's something we all can practice, using an old hymn, a psalm, or a contemporary song of substance. I came away encouraged ... and pray you will, as well.

Blessings and prayers, 

Julie 

 © 2020, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Lyrics © Public Domain Eduard Kremser | Theodore Baker

Teaser from Don't Let This Throw You!

Treasured friend,

I thought possibly you might appreciate a brief excerpt today from Don't Let This Throw You: Last-minute instruction from Christ on thriving in uncertain days. 

So .... here 'tis. Enjoy!!

WHEN LIFE COMES TO MOMENTS

The wall clock struck 1 a.m., as the blue cuff tightened its vice grip around my arm and clacked off its slow, steady decompression. The face of the ER doctor was visible through my partially drawn curtain, and his expression was grave as he spoke on the telephone in hushed tones with our family doctor, whose office we’d visited thirteen hours earlier. Mom and I had heard the preliminary diagnosis (based only on crude x-ray and fuzzy CT scan images) moments before, and although the precise name of my mortal enemy had yet to be determined using an MRI and biopsy, the line that rang in my ears was “These things go south fast; we’re prepared with specialists to do surgery or necessary procedures at a moment’s notice.”

Within hours, a team of nine high-powered physicians and surgeons (some with specialties I’d never heard of) was assembled on my behalf. “You must be important,” one doctor said later. “I just stood at the nurses’ station and no fewer than seven specialists were discussing you!”

The next day, a surgeon would say, “We have ways of getting operating rooms to open up at any time.”

“Even on Christmas?” I’d asked, looking at the calendar and realizing that was a definite possibility.

“Anytime!” was the answer.

So in that ER, knowing my reality had changed and my life might well be brought to moments (yes, I know it always could, but this was a more obvious possibility), my mind raced. I looked over at Mom and started thinking through a list of all the things she needed to know. If only I’d sensed this coming, I’d have prepared something for her. In my shock, I started rattling off instructions.

Passwords, definitely she needed to know my complex and quirky system of passwords for both personal and business-related apps and sites. How to find someone to help with her taxes. How to pump gas. I’d saved her from that task all these years, but if I weren’t here, she’d need to know. Which clients still owed me money and which still paid royalties every year, since she’d be receiving those in my … uh … absence. Which business-related accounts to cancel immediately so she didn’t rack up unnecessary expenses.

We needed to talk with our family lawyer and other advisors. She needed to know where I keep certain documents and to have a plan of how to dispose of my things and pare down hers. She needed direction on how to choose a more manageable place to live for the long-haul. And the list went on and on.

I started talking through these key points with her, as nurses were prepping me for a quick move to the cardiac care unit for an inpatient stay of undetermined length. I glanced at her red-rimmed eyes, and realized Mom looked absolutely overwhelmed. She listened as intently as she could, considering the shock she was experiencing. I’ve always been the one to kick into high gear—stay at sharp attention—in crisis moments. She, though, feels the pain more intensely and immediately. I collapse later. That’s just my way.

My deeper thoughts, which I didn’t share with Mom at the time, centered around how I was going to tell Daddy when I arrived in heaven that I came on ahead, leaving Mom behind all alone—after I’d promised him in that same building just five years earlier that I’d care for her with all my heart and strength. Funny the places your mind goes in a last-minute situation.

LAST-MINUTE PREP

Last-minute thoughts and directions take on an urgency. They distill life down to its most concrete and bare-bones essentials. They have a way of cutting through the fluff and of hitting you in the face with the fact that you just may not be as prepared as you thought you would be for an unforeseen eventuality.

Several years ago, sometime after completing my study of Jesus’ last-hours prayer for His followers in John 17 (which became my book, Praying Like Jesus), I started studying backwards through John’s Gospel—focusing my attention on what happened earlier that evening—on the words Jesus spoke to the remaining eleven disciples before leaving the Upper Room. (Judas had already stolen away to carry out his dastardly errand.)

What He said to the eleven was intense, direct, crucial to their survival. Just like I’d done with Mom, and Dad had done with me, Jesus gave His followers a long list of life-essential, last-minute instructions. It’s those instructions I’d like us to examine together in the pages that follow. They’re worthy of special attention now, in these troubling days, because they give us a roadmap, or to mix my metaphors an instruction manual, on how to live for Christ through the uncertain times that absolutely will come for each of us. Several key lines ring especially true, including this one from the last verse of the passage: “I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace. You will have suffering in this world. Be courageous! I have conquered the world” (John 16:33 HCSB).

Well there goes the pie-in-the-sky notion that life for the believer in Christ is going to be a first-class flight right up to the pearly gates. Trouble is coming. More to the point, troubles are here. Everywhere around us. Unsettling, doubt-inspiring, world-shattering trials. But they don’t have to shake us to the foundation—not if our foundation is the Lord Who already has (not just will, but has) conquered. Or to express this matter of faith the way the translators of The Message Bible paraphrase put it, “Don’t let this throw you! You trust God, don’t you? Trust Me.” That’s a strong invitation issued by Jesus Himself—

 

Well, friend, you’ll just have to get the book to find out what happens next! I hope and pray I’ve whet your appetite … so that you, too, can become unshakeable the next time life tries to throw you.

Excerpted by permission from Don't Let This Throw You: Last-minute instruction from Christ on thriving in uncertain days by Julie-Allyson Ieron, Joy Media Publishing, August 2020. All rights reserved. For purchasing information visit: http://joymediaservices.com/

Blessings and prayers, 

Julie 

 © 2020, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

A Quick View for You

Hello Treasured Friend,

Julie here back with you with a teaser. Here's a link to our video trailer that describes Don't Let This Throw You, which released yesterday in print and e-book editions. Hope this makes you want to know more. At the very least, you may find it entertaining. Especially those snippets of me in my goofy wigs!

https://youtu.be/oxt5Y0rJqRc

When you do ... you can visit us on FB or on our website JoyMediaServices.com for ordering info. 

Thanks!

Don't Let This Throw You!

Treasured friend,

It's been a long while since we've been in touch, and if you're wondering why, check out my upcoming release from Joy Media Publishing.

It'll explain tons ... and it'll give you tools for coping when life tries to overwhelm you.

Blessings and prayers, 

Julie 

 © 2020, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Pressed Into Care -- A Caregiver Devotional

Treasured friend,

As caregivers, one of our greatest needs is self-care. Yes, it's important to take care of ourselves physically--rest, proper nutrition, exercise and the like. But it's at least equally important to take care of ourselves spiritually. It's easy to be lax with our devotional time as caregiving demands get more intense.

Recently, we released a 30-day caregiver devotional titled Pressed Into Care. Today, we share with you an excerpt from the first day of that devotional. We pray it encourages your heart and challenges you to spiritual fitness. And, if you like what you see, here's a link to three editions of that devotional: Kindle, paperback, and audio.

Now, on to the excerpt ...

Day One:

Treasured by God

The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls, and upon finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it (Matt. 13:45-46).

Within the last 24 hours, I had a phone call from a friend whose father was being rushed to the emergency room (she called as she was en route to the hospital). I also had an email from a colleague whose mother was being resettled into a nursing facility after a fall. Then I attended the memorial for one of my mother’s contemporaries whose children watched her die in a long battle with cancer. While socializing there, I cried with an acquaintance whose mother (living thousands of miles away) is tottering between life and death after having a stroke, and stood with another whose sister-in-law is in a rehab hospital. (To make matters worse, the patient’s husband is in the grips of advanced dementia.)

I assured all of them that I would carry them to the Father in prayer. And I will continue to do so. But, in one very human sense, that seems so little for me to do.

As you each will attest, these crises are all too common as we watch our loved ones age. And they take a toll on us as we stand by helplessly, entrusting our precious loved ones into the care of medical teams made up, by and large, of strangers. But do our prayers really do anything for our fellow caregivers or care receivers in crisis?

So many times our lives are filled with trauma, emergency, upheaval, guilt, and distress. Perhaps that’s why the Scripture I want to share with you today jumps off the page for me.

The setting is when the Prophet Daniel received a terribly unsettling revelation from the Lord. It troubled him so that he could do absolutely nothing but pour his heart out to God. He didn’t eat. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t tend to personal hygiene. (Does that sound at all like the life of a caregiver in crisis?) For twenty-one days this went on. (It seemed interminable, just like our heavy-duty caring times.) And then, in a moment, a messenger from heaven showed up.

Did that messenger berate Daniel for his tears? Did he tell the prophet to buck up? Did he bull right in with the discouraging diagnosis? Did he tell Daniel to stop praying and do something more productive? None of the above. Here’s the way Daniel recorded what happened:

No strength was left in me; my face grew deathly pale, and I was powerless. … Suddenly, a hand touched me and raised me to my hands and knees. He said to me, “Daniel, you are a man treasured ⌊by God⌋. Understand the words that I’m saying to you. Stand on your feet, for I have now been sent to you.” After he said this to me, I stood trembling. “Don’t be afraid, Daniel,” he said to me, “for from the first day that you purposed to understand and to humble yourself before your God, your prayers were heard. I have come because of your prayers” (Daniel 10:8-12, hcsb).

Three phrases jump out at me, as if they were ablaze in neon lights:

·        “you are … treasured by God”

·        “don’t be afraid”

·        “your prayers were heard”

My friends whose parents are in crisis this day (and those of us who are in breather moments between crises), take heart. Not only does God see your exhaustion—not only does He feel your lack of strength and your powerlessness in the face of crisis, but He sends an answer—a response to your prayers.

Whatever you’re facing today, know this for a fact:

·        You are treasured by God.

·        You don’t need to remain afraid. (Think of the words of David, in Psalm 23: “I will fear no evil, for You are with me.”)

·        And, most of all, God hears and is even now acting on your behalf.

Treasured one, be strong and stand on your feet, for the Lord who loves you is beside you today. He was there with His servants in days past, He is with each of us today, and He will be always and forever with us.

May we find strength and encouragement from the truths of God’s Word. Hearten us, Father, for today’s task. 

Blessings and prayers,
Julie

 © 2019, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Special Sale! Two Kindle editions discounted this week only!

We're excited that two of our Kindle books are on special all week -- in honor of International Women's Day. #IWD2019




Julie's classic bestseller, Names of Women of the Bible, updated edition with study guide is on special for $1.99. Kindle: Names of Women

And her newest devotional for caregivers, Pressed Into Care: Words to Uplift Adult Children of Aging Parents is on special for $1.99. Kindle: Pressed Into Care

Print and audio editions are also available from our website: http://womencareforagingparents.com

Check out these two great values. Get a copy of each for yourself and another for the caregiver in your life.

Enjoy!

The Joy Media Publishing Team

© 2019, Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

Bridge City News - May 29, 2018 - Full Newscast

Bridge City News - May 29, 2018 - Full Newscast

https://youtu.be/NMhf8xxfEZA

My interview on caregiving begins at time stamp 35:55 and runs through the end of the broadcast. It was a thorough and thought-provoking interview. Hal really "got" the issues related to caregiving and asked heart-felt questions. It's worth watching. If you like what you hear, let us know.



Blessings and prayers,
Julie

Hot News! Releasing today!

We've just released the Tenth Anniversary Edition of The Overwhelmed Woman's Guide to Caring for Aging Parents.  Here's a bit more info about it:

You can order your autographed copy directly from our office at the discounted price of $14.99 (list is 19.99) by clicking here: Buy on PayPal today!

To learn more about it or see an excerpt online, check out our brand new entry on Amazon.com

Blessings and prayers,

Julie

© 2018
Julie-Allyson Ieron. All rights reserved. For reprint permission, email: orders@joymediaservices.com

NOW AVAILABLE! 10th Anniversary Edition of Caring for Aging Parents

Treasured Friend,

We've just released the Tenth Anniversary Edition of The Overwhelmed Woman's Guide to Caring for Aging Parents.  

Because you stand with us on the caregiving journey, we wanted you to be the first to see the new cover. We're thinking you'll be impressed by the fresh look with a touch of whimsy. 

I've spent the better part of the last five months refreshing the book from stem to stern, updating resource lists, interviewing new families, following up with families who shared stories in the original edition, adding dozens of new stories, and creating a spiritual journal to go along with it. 

Just this morning, I reached the milestone of completing the last of the new stories, and I wanted to share it with you ... to encourage you on your caregiving journey and maybe to whet your appetite as we lead up to the book's launch. 

I hope, then, that you enjoy this excerpt from the chapter titled, "I'll Take Senior Finances for $200, Alex," and I'd ask that you'll keep our team in prayer as we ramp up production of this valuable caregiving resource and approach our release date. 

Here's the story, then, for your enjoyment:

I inherited something far more valuable than financial resources from my dad. I think this realization hit me most powerfully on the first Christmas Eve after he went to heaven.

For weeks, I’d been wishing, maybe even praying, that I could just hear his voice one last time. I knew it was silly to even consider it. I kept kicking myself that amidst all the endless hours of caregiving, I’d never had the foresight to record him talking about his life and what he wanted to pass down to me. How many opportunities had I passed up? But alas, I’d only recorded him in a few random snippets on my smart phone. Birthday parties or Christmas dinners—things that were sweet, but devoid of substantive meaning.

That night, as I sat at my desk, I was finishing work on Mom’s Christmas gift. In the 1970s, she spent seven years as a member of a women’s quartet that traveled the Midwest singing in churches, special events, retreats, even on Christian TV. When they were in town and singing at an evening event, Daddy and I would tag along, sit in the front row, and place our Zenith cassette recorder between us. We’d record the program from our seats, and Mom would take that tape to rehearsal the following week so the girls could critique themselves. I’d found a whole box of those tapes, so as a surprise I was capturing them onto digital files for Mom’s gift.

Finally, nearing midnight, I made it to the last tape in the box. It had been recorded on a summer night when I was 16, just getting ready to go off to college. That year, the girls closed their concert with the Gaither song, “Because He Lives.” As they approached the final chorus, one of the sopranos, Sue, chimed in: “Why don’t you all join us?” And so, the audience began singing.

After a few bars, one voice—the one closest to the recorder—rang out, loud and strong, soaring above every other voice in the room. In his sweet baritone, Daddy poured his heart into it, “Because I know—oh—oh—Who holds the future …”

Back in my office that Christmas Eve night, I bawled like a baby as Daddy’s voice continued through the ending, deeding to me what would become my greatest heritage: a declaration that life is worthwhile, and death is nothing to be feared, because Jesus Christ lives.

I suppose the fact of when I unearthed this treasure made it all the more meaningful—and reinforced the awe-inspiring realization that the Lord not only heard the desire of my heart, He’d planned the answer decades before I ever prayed the prayer.

Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.

Matthew 6:8

Blessings and prayers, 

Julie 

 © 2018, Julie-Allyson Ieron. Excerpted by permission from The Overwhelmed Woman's Guide to Caring for Aging Parents, Second Edition. All rights reserved. For reprint permission or to purchase advance copies, email: orders@joymediaservices.com