As I clipped and then filed her fingernails, I listened as my soon-to-be 89-year-old friend relived her past. Josie has been hospitalized or in rehab since May of this year. She was injured in an automobile accident, killing the driver, her husband Dave.
I’ve known Josie since 2001 when we became neighbors. However, there was much of her past I did not know, like the fact her only daughter is adopted. As my friend shared her journey from her first marriage and the adoption of Monica, I asked more questions. She readily shared, including the circumstances of her first husband’s death.
I held back tears as she described in details the adoption process and her fears of someone returning to claim her daughter, not born of her body, but of her heart.
“I was so afraid,” she said. “I wanted to hold her close and never put her down.”
The sound of breaking glass made me cringe. I’d just broken my favorite pitcher because I was careless. I’d paid less than five dollars for it a yard sale. Its beauty had drawn me to part with my money.
Frustrated by my carelessness, I sighed as I cleaned up the mess of broken glass and spilled iced tea. When I cut my finger on a piece of the glass, I almost cried. I was tired. A lack of quality sleep the night before multiplied the incident into a disaster in my mind, until I reminded myself it was only a pitcher.
Later that day, I’d forgotten the pitcher, already tossed into the trash and ready for disposal. Then, I broke something else. I was digging in the dirt in preparation for some stepping stones in front of my backyard gate when I hit something solid. I bent down to remove several rocks and also encountered some tree roots. As I was hacking away at them with my shovel, I hit something else. Upon further examination, I realized I’d just severed my Internet line.
“Just great,” I thought. After cleaning up the mess, I called my Internet provider who informed me it would be the following Monday before it could be repaired. While I’d have to wait five days for the line to be fixed, the other bad news was the cost of the repair. I cringed when the company agent said, “It’ll be $149.”
“Oh well,” I said to myself, “there goes the three-day road trip I’d planned for the following week with my sister.”
Ask anyone who knew Ray Wallis and they would tell you he was like King David, a man after God’s own heart. I’d only known Ray a little over eight years. Our lives intersected when my youngest grandson was born in 2009. My grandson, Cash, is one of Ray’s great grandsons.
Why would I compare Ray to King David? Paul tells us in Acts 13:22 why God chose David to become King. “I have found David son of Jesse, a man after my own heart; he will do everything I want him to do.”
Yes, David was a terrible sinner. However, we can learn much about his character by reading the book of Psalms where his life was revealed for all to examine. David wasn’t perfect. Neither was Ray. However, what he had in common with King David is what God desires for all of His children. His heart belonged to the Lord. Ray, like King David, had a burning desire to follow God’s will and do what He had called him to do.
After battling cancer for almost three years, Ray went home to be with Jesus at the age of 86 on October 17. Even if you didn’t know Ray personally, you could pick up his Bible and read the scriptures he had underlined to learn more about this man of great faith.
Overwhelmed by my overstuffed closet recently, I felt the need to purge and organize. It was time to rid my life of clothing, shoes and purses and anything else hiding in the deep recesses of my walk-in that didn’t add anything to my life. Did you notice the irony here?
I needed less to add more, not more stuff, but to embrace the orderliness of a life filled with God and not more possessions. As I finished removing outdated clothing or items I’d bought on sale and had rarely worn, I wondered why we allow ourselves to accumulate so much. Why do we treasure things and not the life we’ve been given?
The acquisition of stuff doesn’t add anything to our lives. If anything, it detracts us from the joy-filled life we should be living. What do I mean? Each piece of clothing, each knick-knack on our shelves, each gadget we purchase, each new electronic device we embrace requires time and maintenance. The things we own can end up owning us.
But it’s not just material things we cling to. We clutch grudges and anger to our chests as if we were a selfish child refusing to share a favorite toy.
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”
Do you remember this childhood taunt? I do. And, I remember chanting it to neighborhood kids when we were fighting. Later, we’d make up.
If you examine this childish saying, you’ll realize how untrue it is. Bones heal with the help of medical care and time. Hurtful words can leave unseen scars forever.
Words wield more power than we realize. They reveal what’s in our hearts. But, our tongues can be the most difficult thing to control. Hurtful words can leave us with regrets.
Pastor Tony Evans says, “A formidable power dwells within each of us. This power has changed the course of nations. It is capable of starting and ending wars. And it has made men rich and women famous. It has the means to commend or corrupt—to bless or to blame. It is the power of the tongue.”
photo by Carol Round
Summer flowers have died. Leaves are changing colors. Life goes on.
Seasons change in our lives. We experience cycles of trials and calm. Life goes on.
Many affected by the destruction of nature’s wrath this year are still struggling. But life goes on. Even then, we sometimes forget to recognize the extraordinary in the midst of the ordinary—and life goes on.
Sometimes we’re reminded of God’s extraordinary in the midst of our ordinary. A friend’s relative lost his home last spring in a Missouri tornado. Six months later, through the efforts of his small church family, he is almost ready to move into a newly constructed house. While funds for the construction have dwindled at times, leaving the crew wondering if they’d ever be able to complete the project, God has shown up in the midst of their uncertainty to reveal how much He cares for His children.
In a moment of divine intervention at an Arkansas baseball game, the leader of the construction crew met a stranger. During their conversation, he told her of the church’s efforts to finish the house. This woman was not just any stranger, but was from a neighboring Missouri town and was part of a church seeking to help tornado victims.
Walking outside is one of my favorite forms of daily exercise. For me, it’s also a time to get away from my writing commitments and rejoin the world. Writing is a solitary occupation.
Getting out in nature is a reminder of how blessed I am. Walking through the winding hills of my neighborhood and pausing to watch the geese living on our lake, I remember how much God loves us. His creation refreshes me. I thank Him for eyes that see and ears that hear. I thank Him for the gentle breeze that ruffles my hair and cools my skin.
How easily we can become complacent in our Christian walk if we don’t ask Him to renew us. In Psalm 51:12, the psalmist writes, “Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me.”
If we aren’t intentional about our faith walk, our spiritual energy wanes. If we don’t spend time meditating on scripture, praying, worshipping and fellowshipping with others, we lose the desire to please God. We forget the blessings He has poured out on us. We forsake His commands. We become enmeshed in a secular world that continually draws us away from His goodness.
Romans 12:2 reminds us about not conforming to the pattern of this world, but “to be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”