On Plough’s online panel discussion, “Assisted Suicide: Are We Sleepwalking Down a Slippery Slope?”: My husband, Gary, died four years ago of an early onset type of dementia. We were missionaries when his symptoms started. One of my strong conclusions is that because we don’t live in community, we can’t die in community. My husband did die in community – I live intergenerationally with one son and his family. In Gary’s last year of life, 2021, I started a small group in my church called CAREmunity. I’m trying to find ways to foster relationships, connections, and compassion among those who can voluntarily make commitments to each other. But the going is hard – and I’d welcome forums or YouTube discussions on community; definitely a workshop with language to use, teachings, Q&A, breakout sessions, coaching for committed-to plans. Most of our married life, we shared every home we had with others, and overseas we lived with an extended family that took us in, while also facilitating placement of many short-term missionaries with other families. I’m away from Anabaptist fellowship here (that’s one reason I read Plough, to keep dialogue going) and still feel new to the Pacific Northwest culture I’m in now. My family is interested in what it might mean to start some kind of intentional community here. If there are resources to guide discussion with others, we’d value them and share them.

Denise Williamson, Sandpoint, Idaho

On Devan Stahl’s “A Disabled Savior”: Thanks so much for this! The culture of “Whose sin is the cause of this disability?” or “Pray for complete healing and have faith” leads to such guilt and shame, the opposite of the loving acceptance we wish the church would offer.

Jeri Smith McFadden, Dallas, Oregon

The more I think about it, the more I think I’ll still be autistic in my resurrected body. With certain disabilities like autism, we just don’t feel like ourselves without them, so I suspect God would resurrect us with them. God adapts himself to speak to each, but I think he also adapts our resurrection on the last day in a similar way.

Rev. Matthew Schneider, Cheshire, Connecticut

On Malcolm Guite’s “In Defense of Pint and Pipe”: What a pleasure I had today in reading Malcolm Guite’s article. I could almost sense the tobacco, the whole ritual of filling his pipe, taking the first sip of beer and the pleasure of relaxing. It seems to be a dying art. It reminded me of W. H. Davies’s poem, “what is this life if, full of care, / we have no time to stand and stare.”

Unfortunately, here in the Basque Country there are no pubs where one can genuinely relax. There are bars, which tend to be noisy and transient. I don’t smoke, but love to watch the ritual of a pipe smoker; there is one in the village! I daresay that Mr. Guite might reach out to more people in his pub than in a church service.

Paul Attard, Bizkaia, Spain
Thank you, Malcolm. I got into a lot of trouble as a family doctor because I refused to wag my finger at people about these aspects of their lives that were important to them. Mildred Blaxter, a sociologist, reported that only wealthy people could improve their health by changing their lifestyles. I served one of the most deprived and unhealthy communities in England and Wales and could see how much community, connections, and shared experiences mattered to people.

Jonathan Richards, South Wales, United Kingdom

What Mr. Guite didn’t mention is the increased risk for cancer of the mouth, which is also a risk for those who chew tobacco. The real question here, on balance, is whether the benefits of smoking his pipe and drinking his pint, as he explains it in this beautifully written piece, are enough to offset the risks. I am a health care professional and do all I can to learn what leads to a healthy life, or to human well-being and flourishing. The research on this is emerging (see the Harvard Human Flourishing initiative) and seems to be showing that good relationships are a key predictor of well-being. Loneliness, isolation, and lack of good friendship have an extremely negative impact on health. I am inclined to lean more into what Mr. Guite proposes than to take a legalistic and condemning attitude to what he says. Though I would then need to add that “the local” doesn’t exist where I live in the United States, so the context for experiencing a pint and a pipe in a good way would be hard to find.

Michael J. Soderling, Milwaukee, Wisconsin

On Garth Brown’s “Food Is Not Magic”: As a confirmed foodie and nutritional therapist, and having run my own natural food store, I can say that good health comes from food, not supplements, except in some circumstances. Our family has also made the choice to buy and eat organic foods wherever possible, and we are very much in favor of farming that does as little damage to the environment as possible. God has given humankind the job of caring for his creation. I am aware that many may not agree with this position of domination rather than nurturing.

Nigel Gray, East Sussex, United Kingdom

On Kelsey Osgood’s “Abrahamic Houses of Faith”: Ms. Osgood’s observations and insights are perceptive and well-articulated. I would add that the mere existence of these houses is significant, being an indicator of the government’s remarkably visionary approach to religious diversity.

Having lived in four Muslim countries and, most recently, in Abu Dhabi for four months in 2024, I appreciated this and other signs of the government’s progressive posture toward other religions. For example, we freely attended the Evangelical Community Church of Abu Dhabi, a church fully committed to the gospel and to advancing the kingdom of God. On the front of the church up by the roof are words in English and Arabic clearly spelling out the name of the church. At a bookstore in a mall there, I found a section on Christian literature with books by C. S. Lewis, Joyce Meyer, and many other Christian authors. Also, the world’s largest Roman Catholic parish is in Dubai. My own experiences encourage me to believe that the kingdom is present there and in the region.

John M. Evans, Towson, Maryland

On James Mumford’s “Desire Use Repeat”: Thank you for your testimony, your honesty and vulnerability. I found it most uplifting as a seventy-six-year-old addict who for so many of those years lost myself and my freedom to desires of the body. Thanks to the grace of God, somehow, miraculously, I seemed able to live what a lot of people would call and have called a reasonable and possibly even privileged life – not without some close shaves that I deeply regret. From childhood I have always had a belief in the faithful God, but it is only over the last eight years through my local church community that I have become more and more attached to God and his word. Cleaning up my act and reclaiming my freedom hasn’t been easy and I still call myself an addict. As AA encourages, I have to work on it every day, every hour. I have to be on guard, but filling more of my life, following a rule of life, and incorporating spiritual disciplines into my daily regimen has been so good for me. I wish you well for your future as you try to (and I pray will) reclaim your freedom. It is such an amazing feeling that I have had over the last three years or so. And with the help of the Holy Spirit, I pray it will endure forever.

Barry Thomas, Victoria, Australia

On Phil Christman’s “The Manosphere and Me”: I’m a not-so-young man approaching midlife with a two-year-old son and newborn daughter. I have spent a fair amount of time absorbing the teachings of our manliness overlords (mental toughness, physical toughness, and emotional isolation). It seems like this worldview makes a man very isolated, surrounded by a sea of people seeking connection. As I look at my son, I realize how little of what I’ve internalized is what I want for him and his life. So much of it is preys on your numerous insecurities. As I look at my daughter, I realize how toxic many things I’ve internalized are that I would never want her to experience or to be married to. So much of it is about punching down to make my own insecurities feel diminished.

Robert Logan Aitchison, Deerfield, Illinois

On Plough’s Spring 2025 issue, Why We Work: The articles in this issue are so rich and biblically founded. I have even had a new revelation myself after years of misunderstanding the true value and nature of work. One of the things I noticed upon moving to my new prison unit was the lack of care the bathrooms are receiving. The floors and walls in the showers are slimy, the mats are dirty, and dirt leaks into standing water you step into each time you get out of the shower. There are flies in the showers, the booths have mold, cigarettes, and ashes in them, and dust on the top railing where you hang your towel. It’s just bad. But glory, what an opportunity it turned out to be!

As I was getting out of the shower one evening, I was praying and telling the Lord how I would love to see this shower beautiful for my friend Tiffanie. I have a difficult time with certain tasks, but I would clean her shower so it was nice for her. And like that, the Lord somehow opened my heart and said, “All of my children deserve a clean place to bathe – show them.” So I had a new resolve, and steadfast love was planted deep within. I knew I was going to somehow clean these dirty showers.

The next day the officer shut the showers down for two and a half hours and I swept, wiped, scrubbed, and mopped, all while rejoicing for the love God had placed in my heart for these women. I was not concerned with the outcome as much as I felt in love with the Creator who had shown me in my heart that this shower room would be beautiful. And something quite amazing happened: while the work was laborious, it wasn’t harsh. It was peaceful and sacred to me, like an opportunity to show God how much I loved him. But not out of a forced need – out of communion. I wiped away spider webs, flies, mold, and cigarette butts. Tears began to fall down my face because it reminded me that this is what Jesus did inside of me. He looked at all of my grime and filth and wiped it all away so lovingly. And now here I was, his very hands and feet, on my knees in a prison shower stall.

Strange as it will sound, I’ve been to a lot of prayer services and churches growing up, I’ve traveled a great deal, and I’ve given birth to two amazing children, but the most precious moments I’ve felt used by God were spent in that bathroom. Ever since then I go every day and clean those showers. I have such joy serving the Lord and tenderly caring for each one of these women even when (or if) they may have given up on themselves. There is such beauty in bearing one another’s burdens and giving the gift of hope by showing God’s love.

Kimberly Bennett, Bedford Hills Correctional Facility, New York 

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