Seismic Resilience

by DanWolgemuth on July 11, 2025

History has shaped what construction requires in states like California. Engineers call this seismic resilience.

Earthquakes are inevitable. They have happened. They do happen. And they will happen. So the question is: what will we do to prepare for—and then survive—them? Talented and experienced technicians design and build with these objectives in mind. Notice: the strategy is not to avoid earthquakes, but to be resilient through them.

In many ways, this sounds like the very approach Jesus took as He instructed His disciples.

“Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”
—John 16:33 (NLT)

Yes, you will have earthquakes. All of civilization is laced with fault lines. Even creation is. So, a strategy of avoiding catastrophe is both foolish and impossible.

The approach Jesus commends, prays for, and directs is—His Church. In fact, He tells His disciples that even the earthquakes experienced at the gates of hell are no match for His Church. This is why Jesus prayed for unity in John 17. Not for inoculation or relocation, but for durability through trials, in community. Because of community.

In community, we can’t solve the problem of evil—but we can survive it.
In community, we can’t change the amount of rain that falls, or the rivers that swell—but we can act courageously and respond compassionately, together.
In community, we can’t change a frightening diagnosis—but we can surround, pray, love, and support.
In community, we can’t accumulate enough weapons to combat evil—but we can speak up for those without a voice, defend the cause of the vulnerable, and live and love generously.
Sacrificially.

Seismic resilience is precisely what Jesus provides—and with no building code required. He knows, because He experienced the most profound injustice in human history.

At His death, His followers scattered. But in their grief, they came together. Perhaps out of fear. Perhaps without hope. Or maybe because the relational muscle memory that Jesus had instilled in them had developed and grown. And when hope rose from the grave, so did their commitment to live out the prayer of Jesus. Acts 2 shows us unity—with diversity. The Church.

Pain doesn’t disappear. Instead, it is surrounded.

Isolation compounds tragedy and evil. But community answers pain with comfort—not with clichés, not with dismissal, but with a chorus of tears. An orchestra of grief. Never trivializing or spiritualizing what cannot be answered, but embracing the with-ness of Christ and the shared community of faith.

Seismic resilience.

Not because we have the answers,
but because we have each other.

This is the sacred gift that Jesus prayed for.
That He showed us.
That He commands us to be.

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A Sacred Walk

by DanWolgemuth on July 7, 2025

It felt like a sacred stewardship, even though it was an unanticipated assignment. The request came during the 2022 graduation exercises at Taylor University. As a Trustee of my alma mater, I was invited to sit on the platform during the commencement ceremony.

But this request was different. It came because of a special graduate—specifically, the recipient of an honorary degree: Janie Kesler. Janie graduated from Taylor in 1959 and later married a fellow Taylor graduate, Jay Kesler. Fourteen years after her graduation, Jay was named the sixth president of Youth For Christ USA. In 1985, they transitioned from that ministry to become President and First Lady of Taylor University. The campus community welcomed them wholeheartedly—and they, in turn, poured their lives into the place and its people.

In 2018, Jay experienced a significant health event that deeply affected him—and just as deeply, Janie. Now, she was front and center in his care. She led and Jay followed. For much of her life she had lived in the background, yet always an essential part of Jay’s leadership at both YFC and Taylor. Less visible, but foundational.

So, in 2022, Taylor University publicly acknowledged what had long been privately evident: Janie Kesler was an extraordinary woman. A stalwart in the faith. A champion of the missions she embraced. A model of love, care, and resilience. Janie had a quiet but unmistakable strength.

With Jay’s health limiting his presence, Janie and her family wondered how best to support her during the long graduation processional walk into the auditorium and onto the stage. That’s when I received an invitation I will always cherish: to be the arm Janie could hold.

So, robed in academic regalia, Janie Kesler and I walked together.

It felt like a sacred trust. A precious gift.

As I carefully matched her pace—my hand gently cupped over hers—she looked up and said softly, “You can walk faster.” And so, I did.

That was Janie Kesler: gentle, kind, understated, petite—and remarkably capable.

On July 1st, Janie slipped her arm into the arm of her Heavenly Father. This time, it was His turn to escort her. Not to a stage on a warm May day in Indiana, but into glory. Not for an honorary degree, but for a crown that will never tarnish or fade.

She will be missed—deeply—even as she is remembered for her remarkable impact on so many lives, including mine.

Janie Kesler has graduated. And in our grief, we celebrate, we honor her, and we commit to live more like Janie.

Well done, dear friend. Well done.

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Pay Attention

June 27, 2025

It was a beautifully cool Colorado summer night—the perfect invitation for a walk at dusk. And so, we embraced the opportunity. Our pace invited exploration, and we charted a path through a wooded section of our neighborhood. This area was especially intriguing because we’d spotted owls here before—but not for months. Mary, who normally walks […]

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Yes, I Caught the Big One

June 20, 2025

Originally posted 15 years ago. Still true today. With summer activities in full swing, I thought it fitting to revisit this reflection. The reminder it offers feels as timely as ever: summer can easily become as congested and frustrating as Denver traffic. Resist the urge to simply push through. Discover moments to savor. Invest in […]

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Always a Student: A Father’s Day Reflection

June 13, 2025

I can’t help but wonder when the explosion of graduation ceremonies took place. The fuse to that trend certainly wasn’t lit by 1977, the year I graduated from college. Fast forward to 2025, and now—as grandparents—we’ve celebrated a kindergarten graduation and two eighth-grade graduations, all in the same season. Graduation is about completion. Finality. Closure. […]

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A Popper Full

May 23, 2025

On May 24th, 2015—her 90th birthday—Eunice Cargo made a bold move from Brighton, Michigan, to Aurora, Colorado. It was a courageous step, and one that ultimately impacted Mary, me, and our entire family just as deeply as it impacted Eunice herself. It’s true. My own story of impact has, at its core, a simple yet […]

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The Rocks Beat Me To It

May 16, 2025

It was Michelangelo who brilliantly said, “The sculpture is already complete within the marble block, before I start my work. It is already there, I just have to chisel away the superfluous material.” Perhaps he was echoing the perspective of Jesus during the Pharisaical uproar over the praise being lavished on Him just a week […]

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Don’t Swerve

May 9, 2025

Not long after Mary and I moved to Franklin, Tennessee in 1987, we gathered our three kids and two Nashville nieces and set out on a Christmas tree hunt. We’d heard about a local tree farm with an outstanding selection, so we borrowed my brother’s larger vehicle and headed out for what we hoped would […]

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In a tear…

May 2, 2025

In a tear. Through a tear. With a tear… Jesus shows the way. In the quiet moments of the morning on May 5, 2010, Donald William Cargo showed us the way, too. His four children, his beloved wife, and a few others were gathered at his bedside. His body, no longer able to fight the […]

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Even at 70

April 25, 2025

Somewhere, tucked inside the fog of distant childhood memories, is an unforgettable interaction with a man who himself stayed in the shadows. Graybill Wolgemuth was my father’s father—a man with persistently whining hearing aids, an unwelcoming beard, a posture of seriousness, and a famine of words. He walked with God. Quietly. Stoically. Obediently. Joylessly. There […]

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