Friday's w/ Dan #6

In this week’s Friday’s w/ Dan, we sit with the quiet kind of goodness that rarely makes headlines but holds the world together. It’s National Good Samaritan Day, which feels like the perfect backdrop for a conversation about small, steady acts of care — the kind that show up in families, in faith, and in the everyday moments we usually overlook.

I talk about Beacon, my seventeen‑year‑old childhood dog, and the way my parents have loved her with this gentle, unwavering devotion. I share what it means for Sam and me to step in this weekend, not as a grand gesture, but simply because it’s in our power to help.

And I reflect on a conversation with Rebekah from Henning Cheese — a reminder that faith, craft, and kindness often show up in the quietest ways.

If you’re looking for something simple, grounding, and human to ease you into the weekend, this one’s for you.

https://podmatch.com/hostdetailpreview/1768323039635344d43bab5cf

http://www.youtube.com/@DanBackes-Omaha

Transcript

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Hey everyone! Welcome to Fridays with Dan. I hope your week gave you at least one small moment of goodness. Something simple, something human, something that reminded you you're so connected to the world around you. Today is March 13th. And if you didn't know, that is National Good Samaritan Day. And it got me to really think about the type of kindness that doesn't get attention. Not the dramatic, headline worthy stuff, just the quiet, everyday ways we show up for each other because we can. And that's kind of where my head is going into this weekend. My mom is going to be tied up with wedding prep, and my dad on a spring training baseball trip with his buddies. So Sam, my wife, and I will be taking care of Beacon for a few days. So Beacon is my 17-year-old childhood dog. Basically blind, mostly deaf, moving a little slower these days. But it's not a big heroic thing. It's just one of those small ordinary acts of care that families do for each other. The kind of thing that reminds us how much love lives in the simple stuff. And speaking of quiet goodness, I had an incredible conversation this week with Rebecca from Henning Cheese out of Keel, Wisconsin. We talked about our family's craft and the history behind it, but once we stopped recording the conversation, went even somewhere deeper, we ended up talking about faith, about the power of Christ, about how belief shapes the way you show up in the world. It was unexpected in the best way, one of those moments that stays with you. So today I want to sit with that theme: the small, steady ways we take care of each other. In families, in conversations, and in faith. All little corners of life where goodness grows. So as I teased Good Samaritan Day in the intro, I just want to start talking about why this story is so powerful. Not just the version most of us heard growing up, but the real historical and cultural weight behind it. The story starts with a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. We were never given a name. We were never told his ethnicity, and that's intentional. In that world, naming him would have been too easy for people to decide whether he deserved help or he's just a human being in need in need. And that's the point. He gets beaten, robbed, and left on the side of the road. And this road wasn't a metaphor, it was a real dangerous stretch of land known for ambushes. People avoided it unless they had to take it. So two people walk by, a priest and a Levite. These weren't villains. They were respected religious community-centered people. They passed by him. And historically, that wasn't about cruelty, it was about ritual purity laws, fear of bandits still nearby, and the cultural instinct to protect yourself first. It's easy to judge them now, but in their world, stopping could have cost them their lives. Then here comes the twist. A Samaritan walks by. And here's what people don't know. Samaritans and Jews had a seven hundred-year feud. Not a disagreement, a deep generational cultural hostility. They disagreed on religion, ancestry, worship, politics, basically everything under the sun. They avoided each other's towns, they didn't eat together, they didn't trust each other, they didn't even speak to each other. So when Jesus said a Samaritan came along, the original audience would have tensed up. They would have expected the Samaritan to finish the job, not save the man. But he stops, he sees him, he bandages him, he pays for his care, and he goes above and beyond. And here's the part people miss the Samaritan was the least likely person in the entire region to help that man. Not because he was bad, but because the cultural cultural divide was that deep. So the story isn't just be nice, it's help the person you've been taught to avoid. Help the person who can't repay you. Help the person who isn't your people. Help because it's right, not because it's safe or expected. So that is the heart of Good Samaritan Day. I I really hope everyone listening can resonate with that. And you know, thinking about Good Samaritan Day also brought me back to Beacon, my 17-year-old childhood dog. I had wanted a dog my entire life. I begged, I campaigned, I probably made PowerPoints before PowerPoints were even a thing. And eventually, somewhere around my junior year of high school, my parents finally caved. And here's the funny part. They fell in love with her even harder than I did. I didn't actually get that many years with her under my roof. I was already halfway out the door, heading toward adulthood, but Beacon became this little heartbeat at the center of our family. My parents take her everywhere, and I mean everywhere. She's basically blind now, mostly deaf, moving slow, but they treat her like she's made of something sacred. And honestly, that's where the Good Samaritan theme hits home for me. Because caring for Beacon isn't glamorous, it's not dramatic, it's not, you know, something you post about on social media. It's just love expressed through responsibility, through presence, through showing up for a creature who can't do much for herself anymore. So this weekend, Sam and I will uh be watching her while my parents are busy with uh my mom's doing wedding prep with my sister, my dad is going down to Florida to uh watch spring training. Uh but yeah, it what we're doing is not heroic, it's it's not really even noteworthy. It's just one of those small, quiet ways families take care of each other. The kind of goodness that happens in the background, but still matters. So Beacon has been teaching us that for 17 years now. That love is often slow, often ordinary, often unnoticed, but always worth showing up for. And that theme, the quiet, steady ways people show up, kept echoing me in another place this week, too. I had the chance to talk with Rebecca from Henning Cheese out of Keele, Wisconsin, and it was one of those conversations that just stays with you long after you hit stop recording. We talked about her family's craft, the generations of hands that shaped it, the way they've kept their traditions alive without ever losing their humility. There's something deeply grounding about people who do their work with that kind of care. Not for attention, not for applause, but because it's the right way to do it. And then once the microphones were off, the conversation went somewhere I could not even imagine. I I didn't expect it. We ended up talking about faith. We talked about the power of Christ, about how belief shapes the way you move through the world, about the quiet ways people try to live out what they say they believe. And it struck me what she described. It wasn't all that different from the Good Samaritan theme we've been sitting with today. Not the big dramatic gestures, not the loud, performative stuff, but the small faithful ways people show up in their families, in their work, and in their communities. The Henning family has been doing that for generations. Four of them to be exact, showing up through craft, through consistency, through care. And Rebecca carries that same spirit. There's a steadiness to her, a sincerity, and just a kind of goodness that doesn't even need a spotlight. And again, it just reminded me that being a good Samaritan isn't always about stepping into a crisis. Sometimes it's about the way you live your life when no one's watching, the way you treat people, the way you honor your work, the way you let faith shape your presence in the world. Rebecca embodies that. It's a very neat quote from scripture. It is Proverbs chapter 3, 27. Do not withhold good from those to whom it's due. When it is your power to act. I love that because it's not dramatic. It's not asking you to save the world. It's just saying you can do good for someone. Do it. That's my parents with Beacon. 17 years of showing up for a little dog who can't see, can't hear, and somehow it holds the whole family together like a weird case of Elmer's glue. And then there's Sam and me stepping in this weekend. Not because it's heroic, but because it's in our power to help. And honestly, that's what I heard in Rebecca's voice, too. The way her family approaches their craft, the way she talks about faith, and the way she just shows up for people with sincerity and care. It's goodness expressed quietly. Faith lived out in the small things. The kind of love that doesn't need attention, it just needs willingness. So I'll just end this episode with a short prayer. Lord, thank you for the quiet ways you move through our lives. Thank you for the small chances we get each day to show kindness, to step in, and to care for the people and creatures you've placed around us. As we head into the weekend, help us notice the needs right in front of us. Give us willing hearts, not for big gestures, but for simple good we can do when it's in our power to act. Thank you for the reminders this week through family, through conversation, and through the people who live their faith with sincerity. Shape us to be more like that. Steady, present, and gentle. Amen. So that's all for today, everyone. Thanks for spending a little time uh of your Friday with me and just sitting with these small reminders of what goodness can look like in everyday life. I hope something in here gives you just a little lift heading into the weekend, or at least a moment to breathe and feel connected. Take care of the people around you, do the good that's in front of you, and let the quiet things count. This has been Fridays with Dan. I'll see you next week.