Naomi: A Life of Faith, Compassion, and Service

 

There is a photograph of Naomi that has come to mean more to me with every passing year. She is a young nurse in Buckhorn, Kentucky, crossing a wooden swinging bridge with a wheelbarrow and nursing supplies. A patient is waiting on the other side.

I did not know her then. But after forty-five years as her husband, I recognize something familiar in that picture: her willingness to bring care to someone who needed it.

That willingness took many forms throughout her life. Sometimes it meant a nursing visit up a Kentucky holler. Sometimes it meant welcoming a child into our home, listening to a woman in jail, praying with a grieving family, or being present for our own children.

I want our children, grandchildren, and those who come after them to know this woman we called Nomi. More than that, I want them to know the Jesus she trusted. Naomi was an imperfect person who needed His grace, as we all do. Her story matters because it helps us see what faith can look like in an ordinary human life.

Roots of Faith and Providence

Naomi Helen Koerwitz was born on February 5, 1949, in Niles, Michigan, to Norman and Helen Koerwitz. She grew up in a Christian family where faith was practiced at home as well as at church. Behind her life were earlier generations, including her grandmother Helen Oppenheimer Weyland, whose journey from Europe to America became an important part of our family story. Researching that history has reminded me how much we receive from people whose lives began long before ours.

Her older sister Gretchen, a nurse herself, was another important influence. I believe their close relationship helped nurture Naomi’s interest in nursing. Her teenage service as a hospital candy striper was an early opportunity to encounter the needs of patients, years before nursing became her profession.

Naomi went on to study nursing at Wisconsin State University–Eau Claire, graduating in 1971. Her friend and college roommate Lauri Lemke Thompson remembered something more personal than a graduation date: Naomi would not pull the bedcovers over herself until she had said her prayers. They attended church together, and later each experienced a renewed closeness to Jesus through campus Christian ministries—Lauri through Campus Crusade and Naomi through InterVarsity.

Faith became something they wanted to carry into the world with their education.

Naomi also opened her home for Christian fellowship. A December 1971 article in the campus newspaper, The Spectator, identified her home as a meeting place for Bible studies. Friends remember the community around the House of David and the women’s apartment affectionately called the House of David Annex.

Those memories include prayer and serious conversations, but also laughter and silliness. Randy Berdal recalled the women enjoying themselves so much that the young men teased them about their frivolity—a joke that lasted for decades. I am glad those memories survive. They help us remember a young woman who enjoyed life and friendship, alongside the nurse and mother she became.

A Prayer That Led to Buckhorn

After graduation, Naomi briefly taught nursing before moving into hospital and public-health work. Near Augusta, Wisconsin, she found satisfaction in visiting people in their homes and using her nursing skills in a rural community.

She also found the winters very cold.

In an account she wrote using the name Ann, she prayed, “Please let this be my last winter in all this cold and snow.” Her thoughts went further: “If I like this type of nursing so well, why not move to an even remoter area where there is a greater need for nurses.”

She wanted to serve, but she was also thinking about her family. Her mother had developed kidney disease and was on dialysis, and Naomi wanted to remain within a day or two’s drive of home. These were practical decisions made with prayer, affection, and uncertainty. She did not have the whole future mapped out.

Naomi and Lucille: Sisters in the Lord

Her path led to Buckhorn, Kentucky, where she spent three years living and working alongside nurse-midwife Lucille LeBeau.

With her Jeep, Naomi traveled the winding roads into the hollers to visit families, including mothers and babies. Public-health nursing brought her into people’s daily circumstances, where distance and difficult roads could make medical care hard to reach. On one winter visit, her Jeep went off the road and a logging truck helped pull it back.

Then there was the bridge.

The photograph records her crossing to visit Verna Farler in 1976. I cannot know what Naomi thought as she walked across or everything that happened during the visit. But the photograph preserves the essential fact: a patient needed care, and Naomi found a way to reach her.

Lucille shared those years of work and daily life. I am grateful for her friendship with Naomi and believe that serving together helped shape the woman I later knew. We cannot reconstruct every conversation or lesson. We can recognize that their shared season mattered.

A Life of Nursing and Compassionate Service

When Naomi’s three-year assignment ended, she returned to Wisconsin. Her work continued through hospitals, home-care agencies, and public health, including more than fifteen years with the North Shore Health Department. Her colleagues remembered a competent nurse, a practical problem solver, a good listener, and a woman with a sharp sense of humor. They also remembered her habit of counting her blessings and thanking God before falling asleep.

When Two Snowflakes Become One

Naomi and I began dating in October 1978 and married at Divine Shepherd Lutheran Church on April 21, 1979.

Before accepting my proposal, she told me she had polycystic kidney disease. I did not yet understand all that might mean for our future. I knew that I loved her and wanted to share my life with her.

I have described us as two snowflakes—two people shaped by very different experiences, brought together into one shared life. Looking back, I see God’s providence in our meeting. Neither of us could have understood then all the joys, responsibilities, disappointments, and opportunities ahead.

Adoption: The Family God Brought Together

Our family grew through the adoption of Michael, Peter, and Ami—all within eight months. Michael was seven, Peter was four, and Ami was six days old when she came into our care. They were our children, and raising them became a central part of our life together.

My Storyworth book, Faith – Vision – Service, preserves how that family began. After we had been married about a year without having birth children, we explored medical questions and adoption possibilities. We read, attended meetings, spoke with people, and took part in a nine-week preparation group through Lutheran Social Services. Several possibilities came to nothing. At times, we wondered whether we would ever become parents.

Then Naomi received a call from our social worker: two Korean brothers were available. We agreed to welcome them and began the paperwork. After their pictures arrived, another call brought heartbreaking news. We had been married only two and a half years, and we were told the requirement was three. Already, in our hearts, these were our boys.

I called the social worker again. She could offer no assurance, but she spoke of her own adoption experience and her belief in prayer. Our Thursday-night home Bible study prayed with us. The following Monday, she called to say the boys would be coming. On October 19, we met Michael and Peter at the airport in Minneapolis.

I do not know every administrative detail behind that change. I remember the disappointment, the prayers, and the joy of finally meeting our sons. Their naturalization day, April 11, 1984, became another milestone preserved in our family photographs.

About six months after the boys arrived, we received an unexpected call from a young woman in northern Wisconsin asking whether we would consider adopting her baby. We were content with our two sons and had stopped looking for an infant. How had she even heard about us?

Earlier, we had printed one hundred letters describing ourselves and our hope to adopt. We had reconsidered that approach and put ninety-seven copies away. Only three had gone to friends. We had almost forgotten them. Somehow, one reached a Christian crisis pregnancy counseling clinic, where this young woman saw our picture and letter.

After more conversations, prayer, and consideration of how another child would affect our sons, Naomi and I took the boys to a nearby park to talk about a possible baby brother or sister. They welcomed the idea.

My book recalls that changes in Wisconsin’s adoption procedures also helped us feel able to proceed. These were the circumstances of our adoption at that time. Above all, we wanted the decision to be the birth mother’s own, without pressure from us.

I remember waiting with Naomi in a small room without windows while the court proceedings took place. Then a good friend of Ami’s birth mother placed Ami in our arms.

A few letters, a telephone call, conversations, prayer, and decisions made by several people had become part of our daughter’s story. Looking back, I see God’s providence in those events. I also remember that becoming parents meant accepting responsibilities we were only beginning to understand.

Motherhood involved much more than welcoming them home. It meant meals, school days, questions, disagreements, encouragement, worry, forgiveness, and prayer. Peter remembered cooking with Naomi, licking brownie batter from a spatula, and learning to make omelets her way. Ami remembered her mother walking beside her through the drama and joy of growing up, and later expressed her gratitude for Naomi’s choice to be her mom.

Those everyday memories belong beside the bridge photograph. They show another place where love became practical and personal.

Adoption also connected Naomi with other families. Debbie Bailey remembered meeting her through Resolve, an infertility support organization where Naomi served on the board. Their friendship grew as Debbie and her husband pursued adoption from Korea. Debbie also remembered Naomi’s patient invitations to Bible study and the part that friendship played in her coming to faith in Jesus.

Our involvement in infertility support, including OURs, belonged to this wider concern for people hoping to become parents. We knew that questions about children and family could carry deep longing and pain.

Our experience also influenced my studies at Trinity. In 1985, I worked with Frank Block of Love Basket on an adoption research project, sending a survey to more than two hundred families who had adopted children from India. Its purpose was to address concerns about the children’s experiences, including racial prejudice. This was my project, rather than Naomi’s nursing work, but it grew from the family life we shared and our concern for other adoptive families.

Another adoption story came through Randy and Judy Berdal. Randy recalled that in 1988 Gretchen brought a very sick infant girl from Mexico to Wisconsin. During a visit to Randy and Judy, Naomi asked whether they were interested in a little girl. That conversation became part of the story of their adopting Aylana.

Randy’s remembrance acknowledges difficult years as well as the joy of the daughter they loved. It is a reminder that adoption begins a lifelong relationship, with responsibilities and challenges as well as blessing. Naomi had a part in bringing that family together.

Heal the Children: Making Room in Our Home

Our home also welcomed children through the ministry remembered in our family posts as Heal the Children. These children came for medical care; hosting them was a different responsibility from adoption. Naomi’s nursing experience and our family’s hospitality helped us care for children far from their own homes.

My Storyworth book gives more detail about Juan Carlos, whose name is recorded there as Juan Carlos Moscosco. He came from Mexico for hand surgery, and we hosted him on two separate occasions. One family photograph dates from December 1984 and places him alongside Michael, Peter, and Ami.

During his second stay, Juan attended St. John’s Lutheran Church School. In the book I wondered whether that visit lasted about nine months, so I cannot give an exact duration. What the memory makes clear is that caring for him involved the routines of home and school as well as medical treatment. A photograph with Grandma Dassow preserves another family connection during his time with us.

Another photograph shows Michael holding a Korean child captioned “Jung Hi” in my book. She had come for open-heart surgery. I recalled hosting her for perhaps a week and remembered that she even rode a camel after her surgery. The exact length of her stay is uncertain, but that cheerful detail has stayed with me.

The blog also preserves the name Yun Hee. I need to confirm whether that is another spelling or name for the child pictured in the book before treating the two names as the same person.

These children had families and histories of their own. For a time, our responsibility was to make room for them and help provide the care they needed. Naomi’s nursing skills were valuable, and the whole household participated in welcoming them.

Bob and Barb Christian preserved another specific memory. In early 1993, a team traveled to Foundation for His Ministry in Baja California, Mexico. A one-year-old girl had been in Milwaukee for cleft lip and palate repair, and the team helped return her to her family near the ministry campus. Naomi served as the connection between the family who had cared for the baby in Milwaukee and the traveling team.

Her part in that story was practical: helping people work together so a child could receive treatment and return home.

Serving Together as a Team

Years later, our written family mission statement expressed the conviction behind opening our home: we had received it from God and wanted to use it for His glory. It also acknowledged that we needed grace and forgiveness ourselves. I cannot say how fully I communicated every part of that statement to our children. I can say that hospitality and service were things Naomi and I wanted our family to experience together. Our mission trips to Baja and Oaxaca, and our support for children through Foundation for His Ministry, provided other ways to participate in work larger than our own household.

Much of Naomi’s service happened closer to home. At Eastbrook Church she helped with food-pantry registration, welcome ministries, prayer, and conversations about people’s gifts and opportunities to serve. Through our church communities—Divine Shepherd, Eastbrook, and later Alliance Bible Church—we shared fellowship, Bible studies, meals, and friendships that lasted for years.

Naomi also served in the women’s jail ministry in Ozaukee County, including Saturday Bible studies and involvement with Alpha. A fellow volunteer remembered how Naomi helped her develop confidence in that work. During the pandemic, Naomi missed the in-person ministry and looked forward to a possible Alpha group by Zoom, even while learning the technology herself.

Together, we responded to fires through the Red Cross and served as volunteer chaplains with The Salvation Army. Chaplaincy brought us alongside people experiencing sudden death, violence, overdose, and other crises. Often, the most useful things we could offer were attention, a listening ear, and prayer when welcomed.

The Salvation Army’s tribute recorded 568.5 volunteer hours for Naomi, including crisis support, community prayer vigils, Toy Shop distribution, Christmas Family Feast, and Feed the Kids. It identified her last recorded volunteer activity as Feed the Kids on August 16, 2024.

Those hours document a portion of her service. They cannot measure the meaning of a particular conversation or the comfort someone received. I am thankful for the record and for the people who served beside her.

PKD, Dialysis, and Becoming Care Partners

Eventually, Naomi’s own health required increasing care. Kidney disease and dialysis became part of our daily life. The woman who had spent so many years nursing others also needed help herself.

We learned to think of ourselves as Care Partners. Training, treatments, appointments, medical decisions, ordinary routines, and prayer became shared responsibilities. I could not cure her disease. I could remain beside her as her husband.

These years were difficult. Faith did not remove suffering, and love did not give us control over what happened. It helped us keep walking together through circumstances we would never have chosen.

Finishing the Race with Faith

Naomi died on November 8, 2024, surrounded by family. I miss her presence, her companionship, and the ordinary conversations that belonged to our days. My hope that she is with Jesus does not take away that grief. It gives me someone to trust within it.

A Story Still Being Written

In October 2026, I returned to the bridge near Buckhorn. Fifty years after Naomi’s patient visit, I stood where she had once walked. I ventured only a short distance onto it, conscious of my age and of being there alone.

Looking at that crossing, I felt closer to a part of her life I had never shared. I also found myself thinking about the opportunities still before me.

That is why I am preserving these stories for our family. Some of you knew Naomi well. Others may know her only through photographs, words, and memories handed down. Our family was formed through adoption, and the legacy I hope to pass along is one of love, faith, and belonging.

What Naomi’s Life Teaches Me

Naomi did not know every person her life would touch. Neither can we measure every consequence of a kindness, an invitation, a prayer, or a door opened to someone in need.

We can remember what she did. We can give thanks for the people who helped shape her. And we can consider the Savior she sought to follow.

The young nurse crossed a bridge to reach one patient. The mother cared for her children. The hostess made room at the table. The volunteer listened to a hurting person. Through these particular acts, faith became visible.

May Christ Become More

My prayer for those who read her story is that you will come to know Nomi—and that, through knowing something of her life, you will want to know Jesus for yourselves.

Then consider the people He has placed within your reach, and the care you can offer today.

 College graduation 

You Are Part of Her Story

You may have never heard her voice
Or felt her arms around you,
Yet long before you came to be,
Her love helped make a place for you.

You know her face through photographs,
Through memories gathered here.
I write so you may come to know
The woman I held dear.

But look beyond these treasured scenes
To Jesus, whom she knew—
The Lord whose calling shaped her life,
Whose love came shining through.

A candy striper, young and willing,
She learned to notice pain;
Then nursing school prepared her hands
To serve in Jesus’ name.

In Augusta, Wisconsin,
Her calling found its way
Through ordinary acts of care,
Through work and prayer each day.

Then down in Buckhorn’s winding hollers,
Her Jeep climbed hill and bend
To reach a home, to tend a wound,
To listen as a friend.

Across a bridge, a woman waited,
And Nomi crossed to care.
The faith she carried in her heart
Became love offered there.

Her faith spoke through the way she lived,
Through things no words could say:
A patient heard, a burden shared,
A kindness on the way.

Without a sermon, helping hands
Could make His mercy known;
In how she welcomed, loved, and served,
The love of Jesus shone.

She did not work to earn His favor
Or buy eternal life;
She trusted Jesus and His grace,
His saving sacrifice.

Because He loved her, she loved others;
Her grateful heart reached out.
In daily deeds of quiet kindness,
Her faith was lived out.

Back to the North Shore, still she followed,
Still listened, served, and prayed.
God’s providence wove through our years
And choices that we made.

Through adoption, three dear children
Became our very own;
We shared the joys and growing pains
That fill a family home.

Through Healing the Children, others came
From countries far away;
We made a place within our home
For each one’s little stay.

We shared our table and our days,
Gave comfort, welcome, care;
And though those children journeyed home,
Love’s work had happened there.

Now children’s children carry on,
With lives still yet to be;
Each one so precious in God’s sight,
Each branch upon our tree.

You are the fruit of seeds once planted,
Of welcome, faith, and prayer;
Of lives God gently brought together
Before your own were there.

And as her earthly life was ending,
Her wish reached past goodbye:
That her descendants would know Jesus
And share His life on high.

Some she had held and loved for years;
Some she would never know.
Her longing reached to generations
Still waiting yet to grow.

Though Jesus has not yet returned,
We trust His promise true:
The dead shall rise, and He will come
To make all things anew.

Upon that earth, restored by God,
With death and sorrow past,
May Nomi meet those born after her
And welcome them at last.

Dear children of the years to come,
This is why I write:
That you might know the Christ she loved
And walk within His light.

Her faith cannot be yours by birth,
Nor trust be handed down;
But you can know the Lord she knew
And find the grace she found.

And when you see someone in need
Of care that you can give,
Remember Nomi at that bridge—
Let faith shape how you live.

May you receive the love of Jesus
And answer when He calls,
Until the day He comes again
And makes His home with us all.

Then may her deepest earthly longing
Become a joy we share:
Our family gathered with our Savior,
And Nomi with us there.

What a reunion that will be!
I can only imagine.

God Has a Unique Purpose for Your Life!

 God Has a Unique Purpose for Your Life | HeyGen

Naomi Dassow. Praying The Lord's Prayer while a volunteer Chaplain with The Salvation Army

About the Lord’s Prayer

The Lord’s Prayer is the model prayer Jesus gave His disciples when they asked Him to teach them how to pray. It honors God’s holiness, seeks His kingdom and will, asks for daily provision and forgiveness, and requests protection from temptation and evil. It reminds us to depend upon God and extend His forgiveness to others.

Naomi’s Message

In this video, Naomi Dassow introduces herself as a volunteer chaplain with The Salvation Army in the greater Milwaukee area. She explains that Jesus’ disciples noticed that whenever He went away to pray, He returned renewed and filled with power from His Father to heal, deliver, and forgive. They wanted to learn how to pray so their lives and ministry could also bring God’s transforming power to others.

Naomi encourages us that whenever we feel the need to draw upon that same power of prayer, we should remember the prayer Jesus taught His disciples and gave to us. She then warmly invites everyone to join her in praying the Lord’s Prayer.

Watch “The Lord’s Prayer with Chaplain Naomi Dassow”

Scripture note: The disciples’ request, “Lord, teach us to pray,” is recorded in Luke 11:1. The Lord’s Prayer is also presented in Matthew 6:9–13.

Our Early Years of Marriage and Family

 

A Story of Faith, Community, Prayer, and God’s Providence

Richard F. Dassow

A Story Preserved Through Storyworth

Several years ago, our children participated in Storyworth. Throughout the year, they emailed questions to me about my childhood, work, marriage, family, faith, and other life experiences. I answered those questions in my own words and often included photographs and personal reflections. At the end of the year, Storyworth gathered my answers into a printed book titled Faith Vision Service—Richard F. Dassow.

That book has become an important record of our family history. It preserves details I might otherwise forget, including how Naomi and I met, the beginning of our marriage, our years with the couples from Divine Shepherd Lutheran Church, and the remarkable way our three children came into our family. The following story draws from that book as well as from memories that have returned to me more recently.

Building Our Marriage and a Christian Community

Naomi and I were married on April 21, 1979, at Divine Shepherd Lutheran Church. During our first year of marriage, we attended two marriage weekend retreats. I no longer remember the names of those retreats, but attending them showed that we wanted to build our marriage on a strong Christian foundation from the beginning.

Naomi soon approached other young couples at Divine Shepherd who had married in 1979, along with several who had married a few years earlier. Those friendships developed into a weekly Bible study and Life Group in our home. At times, ten or more couples participated, and the group continued for approximately fifteen years. We eventually became known as the 79ers.

Naomi and I initially led the study using The Christian Couple and The Christian Family by Larry Christenson. After we completed those books, Pastor Bruce Harrmann led us through various books of the Bible.

The group became part of the foundation of our married life. We studied Scripture together, supported one another, raised our children alongside one another, and prayed together when important decisions and difficulties arose.

Wanting Children

Naomi and I wanted children, but we did not become pregnant during our first year of marriage. We pursued medical answers and attended several infertility groups. One of those groups was called OURS, and Naomi spoke at one of its meetings. Even at that stage of her life, she was willing to talk openly about a difficult experience if her story might encourage someone else.

As we considered what God might have for us, we began exploring adoption. We read widely, attended meetings, talked with many people, and eventually contacted Lutheran Social Services.

We participated in a nine-week study group where we learned about parenting, behavior management, and the needs of adopted children. It was often a discouraging time. We considered several possible placements, but none worked out, and we sometimes wondered whether we would ever become parents.

Two Brothers from Korea

Then Naomi received a telephone call from our social worker. Two biological brothers from Korea were available for adoption. Michael was seven years old, and Peter was four. Without hesitation, we said that we would take them.

We completed the immigration documents and received their photographs. The following day, however, Naomi received another call. Because of an oversight, the social worker had not noticed that we had been married for only two and a half years. Korean law required adoptive parents to have been married for three years. We were told that we could not have the boys.

We were heartbroken because we already felt that Michael and Peter were our children.

At the end of that week, I called the social worker in Minneapolis and asked whether there was still any possibility that we could adopt them. She could not give us a reason for hope, but she told me that she believed in the power of prayer.

That Thursday evening, our Life Group gathered in our home and prayed earnestly for the boys and for us. Many other people in Milwaukee were praying too.

On Monday morning, the social worker called with the news that we would be allowed to adopt Michael and Peter after all. On October 19, we met them at the airport in Minneapolis and welcomed them into our family.

An Unexpected Call About a Baby

Approximately six months after Michael and Peter came into our home, we received another unexpected telephone call. A Christian young woman from northern Wisconsin asked whether we would be interested in adopting a baby.

We told her that we now had two sons and felt satisfied with our family. We were no longer looking for a baby.

She explained that she had seen our photograph and a letter describing our desire to adopt. About a year earlier, we had printed one hundred copies of that letter, intending to distribute them to people who might know a young woman seeking adoptive parents for her child.

After learning more about Wisconsin’s adoption laws at that time, we decided not to distribute the letters. We put ninety-seven copies in a cupboard and forgot about them. We also forgot that three copies had already been given to close friends. Somehow, one of those three letters reached a Christian crisis-pregnancy counseling center.

Wisconsin’s adoption law had since changed. The termination of parental rights could now occur at the same time as the hearing for adoptive placement, so a child would not enter the adoptive home until the birth mother’s rights had been legally terminated. This change allowed us to consider the adoption more carefully.

We also had to think about Michael and Peter. They had been with us for only six months and were still adjusting to a new family and a new country.

Naomi and I prayed and talked at length. Then we took the boys to a nearby park and asked how they would feel about having a baby brother or sister. They responded positively.

Ami came into our family when she was only six days old. Her adoption became the first case in Eau Claire County under Wisconsin’s new law.

Michael and Peter had come first from Korea, and Ami joined us about six months later. Within approximately eight months, Naomi and I went from having no children to becoming the parents of three.

A Family Formed Through Providence

Our Life Group remained an important part of our family’s early years. We shared meals, Bible studies, prayer, and the ordinary experiences of raising children. We also enjoyed camping trips with church families and with individual families, including summer camping trips with the Langenkamps.

Later, Naomi and I tried to attend nearly every school and athletic event in which our children participated.

Looking back, I can see God’s providence throughout those years. He used our desire for children, the disappointment of infertility, Lutheran Social Services, a praying social worker, our Thursday-night Life Group, an exception involving Korean adoption requirements, three forgotten letters, and a timely change in Wisconsin law.

At many points, we could not see how the story would unfold. God could.

The early years of our marriage formed a pattern that continued throughout our forty-five years together. Naomi and I wanted our home, family, abilities, and resources to serve the Lord.

We did not do everything perfectly, and we could not anticipate the path ahead. Yet God faithfully guided us, surrounded us with Christian friends, and gave us three children whom we deeply wanted and loved.

The conclusion I wrote in my Storyworth account still expresses what I believe:

God is good. God has a plan for our lives. God is in control. God has blessed us to be a blessing to others.

Searching for the Young Naomi—and Looking Forward to Reunion

 

A few weeks ago, Bob asked me a question that has stayed with me:

“When you went back to Buckhorn, were you searching for Naomi?”

Even now, when I remember his question or try to say it aloud, tears come to my eyes. At first, I did not know exactly how to answer. I knew Naomi would not physically be there. I know she is with the Lord. Yet something within me was searching for her.

Now I think I understand it more clearly: I was searching especially for the young Naomi—the Naomi I never knew.

Buckhorn, Kentucky, was part of Naomi’s life before I entered her story. It was where she served as a young nurse in a rural clinic. It was where her compassion, courage, faith, and sense of calling were already taking shape. Long before she became my wife, the mother of our children, and my companion through 45 years of marriage, Naomi was living a life that I knew only through the stories she later told me.

When I returned to Buckhorn, perhaps I was trying to enter that earlier chapter of her life. I wanted to see what she had seen, walk where she had walked, and understand more fully what had shaped the woman I loved.

I knew Naomi as my wife and closest companion. I knew her as a nurse, a mother, a servant, and a woman of deep faith. I knew her through our years of raising our children, serving in ministry, traveling, facing her kidney disease, and sharing the ordinary experiences of married life.

But I never met the young Naomi of Buckhorn.

What was she like then? What did she think about as she traveled those roads? What did she see in the people she served? What challenges did she face? What was God teaching her? What dreams did she carry? How did those experiences prepare her to become the woman I would eventually meet and marry?

Perhaps part of my heart was asking:

“Naomi, what were you like here? What did you feel? What did God show you? I wish I could have known you then.”

There is something especially painful about realizing that, even after 45 years of marriage, there were still parts of Naomi’s life that I had not completely explored. I thought I knew her well—and I did. But no matter how long we love someone, there are still rooms within that person’s story that we have never fully entered.

After someone dies, we can no longer ask the questions we wish we had asked. We cannot sit across the table and say, “Tell me more about who you were then.” We cannot hear the tone of the voice, watch the face brighten, or allow one memory to lead naturally to another.

Perhaps that is one reason Bob’s question touched me so deeply. I was not only grieving the Naomi who died on November 8, 2024. I was also longing to meet a younger Naomi whom I could now know only through places, photographs, writings, stories, and the people who may still remember her.

Buckhorn holds part of her story. Because of that, it has become something of a sacred place for me. Returning there was not simply taking a trip into the past. It was more like making a pilgrimage into Naomi’s life.

I was not expecting to find her standing there. But perhaps I hoped that, by walking where she walked, I might feel closer to her. Perhaps the physical place could help close, for a little while, the painful distance between the life we once shared and the life I must now live without her beside me.

Was that healthy? I believe it was.

There is a difference between trying to recover a life that cannot return and intentionally revisiting a place that helps us remember, understand, honor, and grieve. I was not trying to deny Naomi’s death. I was trying to know her more fully and preserve the meaning of her life.

In one sense, I was searching for Naomi. But I was also searching for a part of our shared story. The young woman who served in Buckhorn eventually became the woman I married. Everything God was doing in her life before she met me became part of the person with whom I would share 45 years.

By searching for the young Naomi, I was also trying to understand more completely the wife I knew and loved.

The tears that come when I think about this do not mean something is wrong with me. They reveal how deep the bond remains. My mind understands that Naomi is with the Lord, but my heart still experiences her absence. Grief lives in that distance between knowing and longing.

My heart still asks: How do I remain close to you when I can no longer see you, hear your voice, ask you questions, or travel beside you?”

I also wonder whether I was looking for reassurance that Naomi was real, that our marriage was real, and that the life we shared still matters. Forty-five years together was a lifetime, but it was still not enough. I would have welcomed more years, more conversations, more memories, and more opportunities to know her.

I do not want to leave Naomi behind as I move forward. But perhaps moving forward does not require leaving her behind. It means learning to carry my love for her differently.

I can no longer carry that love through her physical presence. I now carry it through memory, gratitude, faith, the stories I preserve, the places I revisit, and the ways her life continues to shape my own. I can honor the Naomi I knew while continuing to discover the young Naomi whose earlier life helped prepare her for the years we would share.

My Reason for Hope

My story does not end with searching, tears, and separation. I have hope because Jesus Christ is real. Naomi trusted Jesus, loved Him, and lived her life for His glory. I believe that when she took her final breath on earth, she immediately entered the conscious presence of the Lord.

As Paul wrote:

“To be absent from the body” is “to be present with the Lord.”
—2 Corinthians 5:8

Jesus told His disciples:

“I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.”
—John 11:25

Naomi is not lost. She is not merely part of my past. She is alive in the presence of Jesus.

In my blog post, One Minute After You Die,    I reflected on what Scripture teaches and what Christian writers such as Erwin Lutzer and Randy Alcorn believe about the present Heaven.

I believe Naomi is fully conscious, completely at peace, and free from the pain and physical limitations she experienced on earth. Her years of dialysis, weakness, medical appointments, and suffering are over. She is experiencing joy, worship, fellowship, and the presence of Christ.

Her first experience after leaving this life may have been coming face to face with Jesus—the Savior she loved and served. I can only imagine the awe, peace, and joy she experienced when her faith became sight.

Some details remain mysteries. Scripture does not tell us everything we might wish to know about the present Heaven. I cannot say with certainty how much Naomi knows about what is happening on earth or exactly what her daily experience is like. But I believe what Scripture clearly teaches: she is with Christ, she remains the person God created her to be, and she is safe, joyful, and fully alive in His presence.

She is awaiting the resurrection of her body and the promised new heaven and new earth. Her story has not ended. It has entered a new and eternal chapter.

That gives me hope for my own future.

I am approaching 87. I do not know how many days or years God will still give me. Only God knows whether our reunion will be soon by our earthly measurement of time. Until then, I want to remain faithful to whatever purpose He still has for me. I want to use my time, gifts, experiences, and resources well. I want to finish well.

But I also live with the confident hope that this separation is temporary. Because of Jesus Christ, death will not have the final word. Someday I will see my Savior face to face. And through Christ, I believe I will also be reunited with Naomi.

Perhaps then I will know the young Naomi in a way I never could on earth. Perhaps there will be time for the stories I never heard and the questions I never asked. Perhaps I will finally understand more fully how God was at work throughout her entire life—before I knew her, during our marriage, and after she went ahead of me into eternity.

I am not searching for Naomi as someone who has disappeared without hope. I am remembering someone who has gone ahead of me.

If Bob were to ask me that question again, I think I would answer:

“Yes, in a way, I was searching for Naomi—but especially for the young Naomi I never knew. I wanted to see where she had lived and served, understand what shaped her, and somehow meet that earlier version of the woman who later became my wife. I knew I could not find her physically in Buckhorn, but I hoped that by walking where she walked, I might know her more fully and feel closer to her.

“But I am not without hope. Jesus is real, and Naomi is with Him. She is alive, at peace, free from suffering, and experiencing the presence of the Lord she loved. I believe our separation is temporary. Until God calls me home, I want to live faithfully and finish well. Then, because of Jesus, I believe I will see Naomi again.”

I was searching for the Naomi who existed before there was a “Naomi and Richard.”

And because Jesus conquered death, I believe that one day I will. And then the Great Reunion!

Naomi Dassow: A Life of Faith, Compassion, Providence, and Service—Still Bearing Fruit

 

Some lives are remembered not only for what they accomplished, but for the spirit in which they were lived.

Naomi Koerwitz Dassow’s life was marked by a quiet but courageous faith in Jesus Christ, a deep compassion for people, and a willingness to go wherever the Lord called her. Her story includes nursing, marriage, family, illness, ministry, grief, service, and hope. Yet the truest thread running through every chapter is this: God was faithfully at work.

Naomi’s life was never about drawing attention to herself. She would want her story to point beyond her—to Jesus Christ, the One who gave her faith, sustained her through suffering, and welcomed her home.

A Calling Shaped by Compassion

Long before Naomi became Naomi Dassow, she was a young nurse with a desire to serve people in need.

Her journey took her from Wisconsin to the hills and hollers of Buckhorn, Kentucky. In a rural Appalachian community where medical care was often difficult to reach, Naomi traveled by Jeep to visit mothers, children, and families living in isolated places. She worked alongside nurse-midwife Lucille LeBeau, whose friendship and example became an important part of Naomi’s story.

Those years in Buckhorn were more than an early nursing assignment. They helped reveal the heart God had placed within her. Nursing was not simply Naomi’s profession. It was one of the ways she loved her neighbor.

She carried that same compassionate spirit into later work in public health, community care, church ministry, missions, and service to people facing hardship. Wherever there was a need, Naomi had a way of seeing the person behind it.

You can read more about this important chapter in From Buckhorn to the World and Naomi and Lucille: A Shared Life in the Providence of God.

A Story of God’s Providence

Looking back, it is difficult to see Naomi’s story as a series of accidents or coincidences.

God was preparing her through her family, faith, education, friendships, nursing experiences, places of service, joys, disappointments, and even through the suffering that would later become part of her life. He was also preparing Richard on a very different path.

Naomi and Richard came from different backgrounds, had different personalities and experiences, and traveled separate roads for many years. Yet in God’s timing, their paths crossed in 1978. They were married on April 21, 1979, and God gave them 45 years together.

Their marriage was built on a shared faith in Jesus. It was strengthened through ordinary life, adoption and family, church relationships, hospitality, ministry, travel, challenges, joys, and seasons that neither of them could have anticipated.

Their story is beautifully pictured in When Two Snowflakes Became One. Two snowflakes do not become identical when they join. Each remains uniquely formed, yet together they become part of something larger. In a similar way, Naomi and Richard remained distinct people, but God joined their lives into one shared testimony of faith, love, and service.

Faithfulness Through Suffering

Before Naomi and Richard married, Naomi told him that she had polycystic kidney disease. Neither of them could fully see what the years ahead would hold.

As her illness progressed, dialysis and medical decisions became part of their shared life. Yet they did not see themselves merely as patient and caregiver. They were Care Partners—walking through the burdens, appointments, prayers, decisions, and uncertainties together.

Their marriage was not defined by illness. It was revealed through faithfulness in the midst of illness.

Naomi showed courage, joy, and trust in Christ through difficult seasons. Richard stayed beside her as husband, companion, advocate, and Care Partner. Their life together became a reminder that love is often expressed not only in great words, but in daily presence, patience, prayer, sacrifice, and faithfulness.

Naomi: A Testament of God’s Providential Timing reflects on that sacred journey of marriage, suffering, and hope.

A Legacy of Service

Naomi’s influence reached far beyond one place or one ministry.

Her life included nursing, public health, Eastbrook Church, Alliance Bible Church, the Red Cross, The Salvation Army, jail ministry, missions, prayer, encouragement, hospitality, and compassionate care for people in crisis. She understood that every person mattered to God.

She did not need recognition in order to serve. She simply wanted to be useful to the Lord.

Her legacy also lives on through her family, friends, fellow workers, people she encouraged, and those who received practical help or spiritual care because she was willing to say yes to God’s call.

Naomi Koerwitz Dassow’s Journey of Faith and Service gathers many of these chapters together and reminds us that a faithful life can continue to bear fruit long after a person has gone home to the Lord.

Grief, Memory, and Eternal Hope

Naomi entered the presence of Jesus on November 8, 2024.

Her physical absence is deeply felt. Grief is not a sign that faith has failed. It is the honest expression of love and loss. Jesus Himself wept.

Yet Christ Followers do not grieve without hope.

Naomi is not merely a memory. She is with Christ—whole, healed, known, and loved by the Savior she trusted. The promise of Jesus remains firm:

“I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.”
—John 11:25

Naomi’s influence continues in the faith, compassion, ministry, generosity, writing, and service that remain part of the life she shared with Richard. Her story is still being told because God’s work through a faithful life does not simply end.

As A Story Still Being Written: Naomi and Me reminds us, the story is not over. God continues to use the love, lessons, faith, and calling formed through a shared life.

May Christ Become More

Naomi’s story is a beautiful one. But Naomi herself would want the final message to be about Jesus.

He knew her before she was born. He called her, guided her, strengthened her, used her gifts, carried her through suffering, and received her into eternal life.

Her life encourages us to ask:

Where has God placed me to serve?

Whom has He placed in my path to love and encourage?

What experiences—joyful or painful—might He be using to shape my calling?

Naomi Dassow’s legacy is one of faith, compassion, providence, and service. It is a legacy that continues to bear fruit.

And above all, it is a testimony to the grace of Jesus Christ.

“We love because He first loved us.”
—1 John 4:19

When Two Snowflakes Became One

 

Two Snowflakes

 

Two unique snowflakes joined by golden light, symbolizing two people brought together in one providential plan.

The Unlikely Story of Richard and Naomi—and the Providence of God

High above the earth, a snowflake begins with something almost too small to see—a tiny particle suspended within a cloud. Water vapor gathers around it and freezes. As the crystal travels through changing temperatures, moisture, wind, and air currents, its distinctive pattern begins to form.

No two snowflakes travel exactly the same path. Each encounters different conditions, and each develops its own intricate design.

Human lives are formed in much the same way.

We are shaped by the families into which we are born, the places we live, the people we meet, the opportunities we receive, the suffering we endure, the decisions we make, and the grace of God working through it all.

Every person carries a pattern that has never existed before and will never be repeated.

Two Different Snowflakes

Naomi was one such snowflake.

Her path took her through nursing school, public-health work in rural Wisconsin, and then into the hills and hollers of Buckhorn, Kentucky. She traveled by Jeep to care for isolated families. She lived and worked alongside midwife Lucille LeBeau, served people who had few resources, and discovered that nursing was more than a profession—it was a way of loving her neighbor.

Naomi also carried the knowledge that she had polycystic kidney disease. That difficult reality was already part of her life before I ever knew her.

I was another distinctly formed snowflake.

My path was very different. I came from a different kind of family, received a different education, and spent approximately 30 years as a commercial lettuce farmer. I remained single for the first 38 years of my life. God was shaping me through farming, church involvement, administration, missions, generosity, and a growing desire to serve Him.

Naomi and I were different in almost every imaginable way—our backgrounds, families, ages, education, personalities, occupations, and life experiences.

By ordinary calculations, it seems highly unlikely that we ever would have met.

But we did.

Why?

As I tell this story, I am reminded of a pastor friend who always begins his sermons with a simple prayer:

“May I become less, and may Christ become more.”

Those words reflect the testimony of John the Baptist:

“He must become greater; I must become less.”
—John 3:30

That is my prayer for this story. I do not want it to make Naomi and me look remarkable. We were ordinary, imperfect people who needed God’s grace every day. If anything beautiful or lasting came from our marriage, the glory belongs to Jesus Christ.

The snowflakes are not the center of the story. The One who formed them is.

Drawn to the Same Lord

Long before Naomi and I met each other, Jesus Christ was drawing each of us to Himself.

In 1971, while living in different Wisconsin cities and traveling entirely separate paths, we both experienced a renewal of our Christian faith. We did not know each other. Neither of us knew what God was doing in the other person’s life.

Yet the same Lord was awakening our faith at approximately the same time.

Before God brought Naomi and me together, He was bringing each of us closer to Christ.

That became our deepest connection. Our different backgrounds did not naturally explain why we bonded. Our joint faith in Jesus did.

We recognized in each other a shared love for the Lord and a desire to live for Him. Our Christian faith was not merely one interest we happened to have in common. Jesus Christ became the foundation upon which our relationship, marriage, family, and ministries would be built.

“For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ.”
—1 Corinthians 3:11

Looking back, I believe this was the ultimate reason Naomi and I met. God brought us together so that, through our joined lives, we could know Christ more deeply, serve Him together, and point other people toward Him.

Our marriage was never intended to be only about us. It was meant to be about Jesus.

Was Our Meeting Just a Coincidence?

Naomi’s journey had taken her from Wisconsin to Kentucky and back again. Mine had kept me rooted in the Milwaukee area. For years, our lives moved along entirely separate courses.

Then, in 1978, those courses crossed.

Was it chance? Was it merely a fortunate collision?

Looking back, it appears much more like the providence of God.

“In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.”
—Proverbs 16:9

Providence is God’s quiet direction of people, events, circumstances, opportunities, and even disappointments to accomplish His purposes. We usually do not recognize it while it is happening. We see only the next step.

Often, it is only when we look back that we begin to recognize the hand of God.

Naomi and I began dating in October 1978. On April 21, 1979, two people who had traveled very different paths entered one covenant before God.

What seemed highly unlikely was never unknown to God.

Two snowflakes became one.

When Two Snowflakes Join

In nature, individual snow crystals sometimes collide as they fall. When the temperature and moisture are right, they cling to one another. Scientists call this aggregation.

The individual crystals do not necessarily lose their original structures. Instead, they become joined, forming a larger and more complex cluster.

That gives us a more accurate and beautiful picture of marriage than simply saying that two snowflakes “melted.”

Naomi and I did not have to melt away our individual identities. God did not erase our histories, personalities, gifts, or callings.

He joined them.

Our differences did not disappear. They became part of a larger design.

This is one meaning of the biblical description of marriage:

“The two will become one flesh.”
—Genesis 2:24

Becoming one does not mean becoming identical. It means that two distinct lives are joined in covenant. Two stories begin forming one shared story. Two sets of experiences, gifts, weaknesses, hopes, and callings become woven together.

We did not cease being Richard and Naomi. By God’s grace, we became Richard and Naomi—two distinct people joined in one shared life.

Known Before We Were Born

How could God have been preparing two people for each other before either of them understood what He was doing?

The Bible teaches that God knew both of us before we were born. He saw every part of our lives before we could see any of it.

“Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in Your book
before one of them came to be.”
—Psalm 139:16

Before Naomi became a nurse, before she traveled to Buckhorn, before she made home visits through the Kentucky hills, and before she returned to Wisconsin, God knew her.

Before I became a farmer, before my years of singleness, before my involvement in church and missions, and before I ever heard Naomi’s name, God knew me.

God did not discover our story as it unfolded. He was already present in it.

How is that possible?

We experience life one day at a time. We remember yesterday, live today, and wonder about tomorrow. God is not limited as we are. He sees the whole story while we see only one page at a time.

We cannot completely explain how God’s foreknowledge, human choices, suffering, and providence work together. Some of that remains a holy mystery. But Scripture gives us enough truth to trust Him.

“For from Him and through Him and for Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever! Amen.”
—Romans 11:36

Our lives were from Him—created and known by God.

Our meeting and marriage were sustained through Him—by His grace and providence.

Our shared life was meant to be lived for Him—so that others might see something of Jesus Christ through us.

How Did We Become One?

A snow crystal bonds when surrounding conditions allow one crystal to adhere to another. A marriage bonds through something much deeper:

• Faith in Jesus Christ
• Trust developed through honesty
• Love expressed through daily faithfulness
• Commitment that remains when circumstances change
• Forgiveness offered repeatedly
• Service undertaken side by side
• Suffering carried together
• God’s grace holding both people when their strength is insufficient

Our union was not completed on our wedding day. It was formed gradually across 45 years.

Our marriage passed through changing weather: the joy and challenges of adopting and raising Michael, Peter, and Ami; church life; work and ministry; family joys and disappointments; ordinary routines; travel and adventures; aging; Naomi’s advancing kidney disease; home dialysis; in-center dialysis; and my service as her husband and Care Partner.

Every season added another layer to our bond.

Some experiences were beautiful. Others were painful. But even the difficult seasons became part of the design God was forming.

Marriage did not make us one because we became exactly alike. We became one by learning to walk in the same direction—toward Jesus and alongside each other.

What Did Our Life Together Produce?

When snowflakes gather, they can cover a barren field, replenish streams, nourish the earth, and prepare the soil for new growth. One snowflake seems small, but many joined together can transform an entire landscape.

Our marriage also produced something larger than either of our lives alone.

It produced a family through adoption.

It produced hospitality, Bible studies, fellowship, camping trips, travel, and treasured memories.

It produced ministry through Divine Shepherd, Eastbrook Church, Alliance Bible Church, the Red Cross, The Salvation Army, the Billy Graham Rapid Response Team, Care Net, jail ministry, missions, prayer, and compassionate care for people in crisis.

It produced a shared witness: two ordinary people could place their different gifts into God’s hands and become instruments of His love.

Naomi brought the heart, training, and experience of a nurse. I brought faith, administration, generosity, vision, and a desire to turn concern into action.

Together, our gifts reached people whom neither of us might have reached in quite the same way alone.

Our marriage produced more than activities and accomplishments. It produced character. Through caring for one another, we were shaped into people who could love more deeply, serve more faithfully, and depend more completely upon God.

Scripture says:

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
—Ephesians 2:10

God had prepared work for Naomi. God had prepared work for me. Then He joined our lives so that some of that work could be done together.

We did not always understand the complete plan.

We only needed to know and trust the One who was leading us.

When One Snowflake Is No Longer Visible

Every physical snowflake eventually changes. It may melt into the earth, become part of a stream, or rise again as vapor. Its visible form disappears, but its effect does not.

Naomi left this earthly life on November 8, 2024. Her physical presence is no longer beside me, but the life we formed together did not simply vanish.

The water from melting snow does not cease to exist. It enters the soil and nourishes what continues to grow.

In a similar way, Naomi’s influence continues in me—in my memories, faith, compassion, ministry, family, writing, generosity, and desire to finish well. Our shared life continues to bear fruit through the people we served and the lives we touched.

But Christian hope goes far beyond the cycle of nature.

Naomi has not merely become a memory or dissolved into the universe. She is with Christ. Her identity remains fully known and loved by God. We are physically separated for a season, but that separation is not final.

Jesus said:

“I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in Me will live, even though they die.”
—John 11:25

The same Jesus who brought us together is now holding Naomi in His presence—and He continues to hold me here.

The Story Is Still Being Written

Naomi’s earthly journey is complete, but God’s work through our shared life continues.

I still carry the influence of our 45 years together. It affects how I see people, how I respond to suffering, how I use the resources God has entrusted to me, and how I think about ministry and service.

Telling Naomi’s story is not an attempt to keep her in the past or to make her the center of my remaining years. It is one way of recognizing God’s faithfulness and allowing the lessons of our life together to encourage others.

I do not know everything God has planned for the years remaining to me. I see only the page I am living today. But I can trust the Author who has already shown His faithfulness through every preceding chapter.

My calling now is not simply to preserve what was. It is to carry forward whatever God wants to use from our shared story—while remaining open to the new work He may still have for me.

May Christ Become More

As I look back, I do not want to place Naomi and myself at the center of this story.

Jesus Christ belongs there.

Naomi and I were never identical. God did not erase our differences. He joined us in Christ and used those differences to create something neither of us could have produced alone.

But our marriage was never the final destination.

Jesus was—and still is.

Our greatest legacy is not simply that we loved each other. It is that, through all our successes, failures, joys, disappointments, ministries, and suffering, we sought to love and serve the Lord who first loved us.

“We love because He first loved us.”
—1 John 4:19

Two snowflakes met.

But the story is not primarily about the snowflakes.

It is about the God who created them, knew them before they were born, drew each of them to Jesus, directed their separate paths, joined their lives, and sustained them through 45 years of marriage.

In 1971, in different Wisconsin cities, Naomi and I each experienced a renewal of faith without knowing what God was doing in the other person’s life.

In 1978, our paths crossed.

In 1979, we entered the covenant of marriage.

During the next 45 years, God used our joined lives to form a family, serve people in need, endure suffering, and bear witness to the love of Jesus Christ.

What seemed highly unlikely was never unknown to God.

What began as two separate stories became one shared testimony.

And although Naomi is no longer physically present with me on this earth, the work God began through our life together continues. My prayer now is that everything I do with the remaining years God gives me will point people—not primarily toward Naomi or Richard—but toward Jesus.

May Richard become less.

May Naomi’s story become a window through which people see her Savior.

May Christ become more.

“He must become greater; I must become less.”
—John 3:30

If anything good came from our marriage, may God receive the glory.

If our story encourages anyone, may it lead that person closer to Jesus.

That is providence.

That is grace.

And that is the true meaning of two snowflakes becoming one.

Questions for Personal Reflection

1. As you look back over your life, where can you see Jesus drawing you to Himself and directing your steps—even when you did not recognize His hand at the time?
2. Are your relationships, experiences, gifts, and present circumstances pointing others toward you—or are you allowing Christ to use them so that He becomes greater?

A Closing Prayer

Lord Jesus, thank You for knowing us before we were born and for remaining present through every chapter of our lives. Thank You for the people You bring into our stories and for the ways You use our differences, joys, disappointments, and suffering to shape us.

Forgive us when we place ourselves at the center of the story. May we become less, and may You become greater. Take our relationships, memories, gifts, resources, and remaining days, and use them for Your purposes.

Help us recognize Your providence, trust You when we cannot understand what You are doing, and follow You one faithful step at a time. May anything good in our lives point others toward You—not toward us.

You alone are our Savior, our Lord, our hope, and the true Author of our stories. May all the glory belong to You.

In Jesus’s name, amen.

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