An Unexpected Friendship

St. Paul member Kristin Stegall met Jaclyn “Jackie” Miller on a warm July evening. Little did Kristin know that such a simple encounter would open the door to a bond that would weave together two families from different generations and journeys, eventually giving wings to a faith that has grown, expanded, and changed the lives of Kristin, Michael, and their children.

It was July 4, 2023, and Kristin, her husband Michael, and their daughters were waiting for fireworks to start near Bettendorf Presbyterian Church. Michael and Kristin noticed an elderly woman with a walker making her way up the incline. Michael, an Iowa state trooper, checked in, helping the woman up the hill, offering a chair, and a seat with the family. It wasn’t long before Jackie was sitting with the Stegalls, enjoying the fireworks as old friends.

A chance encounter 
Kristin and Michael first met sixteen years ago, then reconnected later in life and were married in 2017. Each brought a four-year-old daughter into the relationship—Olivia and Sidney, born just six months apart. Michael is a state trooper, and Kristin is a project coordinator for Miller Trucking and Excavating.

It was Kristin’s youth group experience that made her want to find a religious community for her family.

“I never had a home church growing up. We tried different places, but nothing felt like the right fit,” Kristin said. “I found faith in my adolescent years. Once I started connecting with that church community as a young person, it had a static cling effect. I wanted that type of experience for my daughter, but nothing clicked.”

A friend, St. Paul member Harper Sponsler, invited Olivia to Vacation Bible School at St. Paul and later to Camp Shalom. Before heading off to camp, Olivia received her first study Bible.

“During COVID, when the kids had been sent home from school, I found Olivia in her room with her Bible. When I asked what she was doing, she said she was ‘looking for answers,’” Kristin said. “That’s the moment I knew I needed to establish something more.”

It wasn’t until the chance meeting with Jackie Miller that everything began to align.

Becoming butterflies 
Jackie was 89 years old when she met the Stegalls. A former schoolteacher, and a proud member of the Catfish Jazz Society, Jackie was known for her big personality, her bigger heart, and her love of singing. She never met a stranger she didn’t turn into a friend.

As they watched fireworks, they talked about family, life, and religion. Kristin and Michael learned that Jackie had recently broken her hip and could no longer drive. Kristin shared about her search for a church home. After this initial meeting, Jackie invited Kristin to attend church with her that Sunday.

“But you’re driving us,” Jackie added with a grin.

Just a few days after those fireworks lit up the sky, Kristin attended the Open Spirit worship service at St. Paul with Jackie. After the service, Jackie turned to Kristin and said, ‘What’s for lunch?’

From then on, Sundays with Jackie became a weekly tradition. Jackie grew to rely on the friendship of Kristin and Michael. In turn, they found something sacred in her presence.

Jackie radiated joy. She called Kristin every day as Kristin was leaving work—sometimes just to chat, sometimes to ask for help picking up a prescription or dog food. Kristin worked in downtown Davenport and would stop by Jackie’s house in McClellan Heights on the way home. The visits grew into daily rituals, shared holidays, and a relationship that felt more like family than friendship.

“I was incredibly close with my grandparents growing up. They essentially raised us because our parents worked so hard. After losing my grandparents, there was a void in my life,” Kristin said. “Jackie filled that void. She filled it times two. When people would comment that it was so sweet that I would bring my grandmother to church every week, we didn’t correct them.”

Jackie’s impact stretched beyond Kristin. Her conversations with Michael—gentle but persistent—sparked a transformation in him.

“Michael wasn’t raised in the church. Faith was never something he felt he needed. But Jackie planted something in him that began to snowball. She uncovered a part of him he didn’t know was there,” Kristin said. “After a conversation with Jackie, Michael said to me, ‘In my line of work, there is a reason I’m still here. There’s something more meaningful. There’s something watching out for me.’ She was the beacon for him finding faith.”

Jackie didn’t just talk about faith, she lived it. Her words became part of the Stegalls’ daily life. “Live child-like, not childish.” “We are interdependent, not independent.” Her spirit lives on in their home, in their habits, in their hearts.

One of Jackie’s favorite symbols was the butterfly. Her home was filled with butterfly trinkets, and her favorite book to gift to others, Hope for the Flowers, carried a message that all caterpillars were meant to someday turn into butterflies. She believed we were all meant to transform, to become something more.

And transform they did.

Saying goodbye
Jackie died last year on Feb. 6, 2024, just a month after her 90th birthday. Her final weeks were marked by declining health, but filled with memories of meeting her great-granddaughter for the first time and preparing Christmas and New Year’s gifts for family members. It was a frigid, snowy winter, and with Jackie’s children in Northern Wisconsin, Kristin and Michael helped with Jackie’s care.

“She told them, ‘They know I’m alone and I’m 90,’” Kristin said. “We were the boots on the ground for Jackie’s kids. It was a long drive for family to get here during a rough winter.”

Jackie’s family invited Kristin to be with them at the University of Iowa hospital after Jackie suffered a major stroke. “Mom wants you here,” they told her. The family included Kristin in the difficult decision to bring Jackie back to her Davenport home to spend her final days.

Kristin had become part of the family.

A new chapter of faith 
In the months after Jackie’s death, Kristin continued attending St. Paul. She officially joined in November 2024, and on May 17, 2025, Kristin was baptized.

“I’d thought about baptism before, but I associated it with bringing children into the church. I’d never participated in anything like it myself. During this year’s Ash Wednesday service, I kept hearing this phrase in my head: ‘Less I am.’ I even wrote it down on the Ash Wednesday bulletin,” Kristin recalled, pulling the bulletin out of her purse. “The following week, the message was about being a servant. It was a lightbulb moment: that’s what’s missing. I was meant to be a servant to Jackie and now I’m meant to serve my church. I decided to commit my life to living in faith, commit myself to having a deeper understanding, and not being ‘independent but being interdependent.’”

After her baptism, Kristin received a call from Jackie’s oldest daughter. “Jackie was there with you on your baptism,” she said.

“Jackie set my soul on fire. It only took a short time with her to answer a lifetime of questions I had about purpose, faith, and who I am,” Kristin said. “By knowing Jackie, I learned more about myself.”

Kristin still feels Jackie’s presence. The butterfly wind chimes from Jackie’s home, a gift from Jackie’s children, hang above her kitchen sink. She still hears Jackie’s voice—fondly remembering Jackie’s singing voicemail message. Through Jackie, Kristin found a new life to her faith, her church home, and a new way to live.

“Every lesson I got from her made me better,” she said. “She taught me that we were never meant to stay caterpillars. We were meant to become butterflies.”