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No Need to Yell
“Remind the believers . . . to speak no evil about anyone, to live in peace, and to be gentle and polite to all people.”
Titus 3:1, 2 (NCV)
“Thank you for not yelling at me,” the harried-looking woman said. She was red-faced with exertion and the heat. She was in a hurry; the line behind us was long. We’d inched up into front position, drinks in hand. Jayne and I looked at each other. Yelling? Why would Jayne feel the need to yell?
My friend and I were, along with her 16-year-old daughter and the 16-year-old Korean exchange student living with them, wandering around a massive flea market on the Sunday of Labor Day week-end. It was hot and everyone was thirsty. So. Lavender lemonade it was! We’d spotted them earlier in many hands and finally located the booth from which they were being sold.
Standing aside with our treasures, sipping, the exchange student suddenly began to dance and point. She could speak very little English, with emphasis on the “very little.” She was focused on Jayne’s glass. “Mmmm. Ummm,” she squealed. We didn’t understand but we all looked. We could see stuff floating in the glass, as in everyone’s, that we all naturally assumed was . . . well, lavender.
“Oh, oh, oh!” emerged from our young friend’s mouth, and then, finally, something that sounded a bit like “bee.” She’d found her word. Bee? We all looked again and, sure enough, could clearly see a dead bee floating in Jayne’s glass amid the lavender fragments and lemon pulp.
And now we were back in front of the woman who’d sold us the drinks only a few moments earlier explaining the situation. Gently. It hadn’t crossed any of our minds to be demanding, accusatory, or angry. We simply wanted the woman to know she might have a problem at her booth.
That’s when she said, “Thank you for not yelling at me.” Which suggested to us that she had been yelled at by someone, maybe lots of someones, over time. What a shame.
There’s rarely any benefit to be gained by yelling at an individual. Rather, yelling is more likely to have the opposite of the desired effect, resulting in hurt feelings, anger, and alienation. Paul enjoins us to be gentle and thoughtful and considerate to everyone at all times. There’s a quotation I’ll bet you’ve all seen, for which I can’t find an attribution. “You never know what someone is going through. Be kind. Always.”
That’s excellent advice. There’s no need to yell.
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Now We Have Autumn
“Autumn, the year’s last, loveliest smile.”
William Cullen Bryant
Fall is my favorite season of the year. I love its crisp, sharp beauty; the way it invigorates; its promise of hope and life. Yes, life – just when it seems everything is dying.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, the writer, said, “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” And I share that sentiment. Not that I particularly enjoy what comes next. No, I’m not big on winter, though it certainly has its attractions as well. But autumn – ah, autumn. It does funny things to my heart. The sight of turning leaves produces a catch in my throat. Passing a playground makes me ache with desire and memory.
I adored school, not a claim I know everyone can make. But fall and school – commingled for me – represented opportunity, broadened horizons, new and renewed friendships, critical information gained, a few more pieces in life’s puzzle offered up. I wanted to learn and grow and do things. That meant I need to know things.
I loved books and reading, a still-held interest well-known to my friends. And at school I could – I had to! – indulge in that interest. It was a marriage made in heaven if there ever was one.
A couple of days ago I was in a neighboring town to visit someone. The community sits at the base of Mount Rainier, which becomes clearly visible at a particular point in the journey. As it floated into view, my breath nearly stopped, the sight was so glorious. Trees all around me were dressed in vivid yellows, reds, and oranges with, of course, some green remaining. I would not have wanted to be anywhere else at that moment viewing any other sight.
The word is in turmoil at this time. We here in the United States are embroiled in an extremely difficult, painful election season. Emotions are running hot and high; friends and family members are at odds, to say nothing of neighbors, colleagues, and strangers; a distinct us and them quality has developed. It’s horrifying, even frightening. The Lord alone knows how all this will turn out.
But. There’s autumn. And autumn has, in my opinion and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s, the loveliest smile of all. Solomon declared that “For everything there is a season” (Ecclesiastes 3:1) and he was right. As dismal as things may sometimes appear, as terrifying the circumstances – autumn is smiling. And so can we. So should we. This is a season in which to rejoice, be happy, make plans and move forward. A clear, bright fall day makes that do-able. Enjoy every one that presents itself. If you have to, and if you can, go find one. But take pleasure in this season; the next one’s coming. There will be much to savor about that one also, no doubt.
But now . . . well, now we have autumn. Praise the Lord!
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Why Not?
“Where’s that Dusty?” I wondered, looking around the room I believed her to be in. Dusty is my sweet tabby cat, and she usually lounges in bed with me in the mornings. This morning, though, she was nowhere in sight.
The furnace hummed in my ears. It was only the second time I’ve had it on since spring. And then I knew, or thought I did. I was right. On a shelf under a desk, only a foot above the floor and situated right over an air vent, is my cat’s favorite fall/winter/early spring sleeping location. When the heat is on that’s likely where she’ll be. I leaned over and peeked in and there she was, peering at me through one sleepy, half-open eye.
And just like that, I was in my grandpa and grandma’s house and a child again – age six, seven, eight, nine, ten. And I was in a small, warm cubby, my absolute favorite place to be.
There was a furnace that blew air out into the house, but there was a vent on the back side of it which also expelled some air, though in far smaller quantity. It adjoined a wall on one side and blew its lesser air out directly onto another wall straight ahead, about 18 inches away. The arrangement formed a little alcove and I fit right into it perfectly. One wall was to my back, another to my right, and the vent directly ahead. With a stack of books at hand, something tasty to snack on, and my grandmother visible to me in the kitchen to my left, I could sit there for hours at a time, and did.
I read, I ate, I talked to Grandma. Those days are among the most precious of my memories. My grandmother – loving, patient, affirming, generous, kind, and always happy to have me – is my earliest recognizable connection with Jesus. I knew she loved me; there wasn’t the slightest question. I knew she wanted what was best for me, always. I knew there was nothing she wouldn’t do for me. I knew she wouldn’t misdirect me or give me bad information. I knew I could count on her in every circumstance, and that she was totally worthy of my trust.
So when I learned later that those are many of the same qualities claimed for Jesus, I had no problem understanding those claims or believing them to be available in Someone other than my grandmother. She possessed them. So might God. And He does.
I’m aware that not everyone has had a person who loved or loves them unconditionally in their lives, and I’m so sorry for it. That I had such an individual, and so early on, is the source of great wonder and amazement to me, as well as gratitude.
Jesus loves me. He loves you too. And more – much more – than your grandmother did. Or your mother. Or your spouse. Or your child. Or your closest friend. You can count on Him, at all times and in every circumstance.
And. He’s making ready a special place for us even as you read this. John 14:2, 3 makes this promise: “I am going to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with Me that you also may be where I am.”
Wow! I can hardly wait. I hope my new home has a cozy cubby near a heat source and a very large book availability. If you want me and can’t find me, that’s where I’d suggest you look. My grandmother will be nearby. And possibly dear Dusty as well. Why not?
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Value Added
Ruth Ellen went above and beyond the call of duty. Way above. Way beyond.
Some of you are aware that Rick and I bought electric bicycles recently. The woman who guided us through the process was Ruth Ellen. We both thanked her vigorously and sincerely for her help and direction at the time.
Upon getting the bikes home, Rick decided that he wanted a few alterations made on his. One of them involved a different seat and he knew exactly which one he wanted, having that very seat on another bike he already had. He took it back, a 200-mile trip, as we live quite a distance from the bike shop.
The replacement seat was ordered along with other parts necessary for the other changes to be made. A date was set for pick-up, and guaranteed. The date was October 2.
On about the 29th of September Rick realized he needed to be in the same city on October 1, the day before the appointed time. He called the shop to see if his bike could be ready a day early.
“I think we can do that,” he was told. “Everything but the seat is in and that’s due in by UPS that morning. Come by at around 11 and it should be ready.”
Only it wasn’t. UPS hadn’t been by yet. “Why don’t you go have lunch or something and come back in a bit?” it was suggested. “The truck should be here any minute.”
Only it wasn’t. At 12:30 there still was no sign of the truck. That’s when Ruth Ellen stepped up to the plate.
“I’ll call the driver,” she said. “I have his number.” And that’s what she did.
“Found him,” she announced a moment later. “He won’t be here for awhile yet. I’ll just go pick up the part myself.” And she was off.
“Wow!” I said to Rick when he told me the story later. “Talk about value added. That’s amazing!” We both envisioned Ruth Ellen chasing the truck down and, with the driver, rummaging through the packages until they found the right one. They did find it and she brought it back to the shop where it was quickly placed on the bike and Rick headed home.
Ruth Ellen saved Rick a not insignificant drive back the next day, for which he was and is very grateful. And we wish for Ruth Ellen the blessings promised in Proverbs 11:25 – we think it applies to her: “A generous man (or woman) will prosper; he (or she) who refreshes others will himself (or herself) be refreshed” (additions mine). She was the source of a great refreshing to Rick and me, performing an extremely kind act she didn’t have to. We wish her a very grand refreshing, and we both determine anew to be a source of refreshing to others as often as possible.
How about you?
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“Can I Help You?”
Be heartened, friends. Our country’s future may not be quite as bleak as it sometimes seems it will be. I met a young angel a few days ago, and if he’s representative of his generation, or at least some of them, there’s reason to smile.
I was in a Walmart parking lot. When I returned with my cart to my car, I discovered two other carts so very nearly touching my vehicle that I felt they posed a danger. I’m experienced with errant carts, both moving and stationary, and have had car damage to prove it. I decided to return them, with mine, to the cart return area.
That proved to be easier said than done. I got them connected and headed off. The nearest return rack was about 40 feet away. Easy peasy, I thought. Or maybe not. They didn’t want to move in concert at all. The front one got away entirely right at the get-go and I had to chase it down, hoping the other two would stay put. They did, mercifully. I hitched them back together and tried again.
The lot was packed. Traffic was maneuvering around me. It occurred to me about a minute in that I must be quite a spectacle horsing that trio of carts around, as they in no way wanted to be managed. But now I was committed. That’s when I heard the voice.
“Can I help you?”
I spoke before even looking at my benefactor, as he was coming up behind me. “Yes, oh, yes,” I said. “Please.” I turned to see who it was, then had to look down due to his age and size. I’d estimate him at nine, possibly a small ten. He looked to be a very handsome fellow from what I could see; he was adjusting his mask up over his nose as he spoke.
He reached me, put one hand on the cart nearest me and the other on the one furthest out, and I just handed the small train over to him. He set off – extremely smoothly, I must say, and with not the least appearance of difficulty – without a word.
“Should I push from behind?” I called after him.
“Nah. I’ve got it,” he replied over his shoulder, and he did.
“Thank you,” I shouted with genuine relief and serious gratitude. He was now some distance away. “I sure appreciate it.”
I was settling into my car for the ride home when, in my mirror, I saw him passing behind me with his mother and younger sibling on their way into the store. I hustled back out onto the pavement. “Ma’am, you’re raising a fine young man there,” I said. “I was so happy for his help.”
She nodded, he nodded, and we separated. But it meant a lot to me, that help. And it was a great encouragement generally, as so many interactions are so very unpleasant at this time.
There is hope for humanity. We’re all in this together. Each of us has something to offer no matter our age or level of experience or circumstances. Offer help; accept help. Be generous. Be grateful. Be lavish with your praise. That’s always been a good idea, but is perhaps more important now than it’s ever been. These are hurtful, difficult, confusing times. Let’s ease the pain as much as we possibly can in our connections. “Do to others as you would have them do to you” (Matthew 6:31).
“Can I help you?”
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Old Lady, New Bike
I’m no spring chicken. The better part of six decades is behind me, and that’s amazing to me. I should not have made it this far; I’ve survived a couple of serious illnesses and two near-drownings. God alone knows the number of other close calls I’ve had that I’m not aware of. Yet I am still here and in reasonable health for my age and am the happy beneficiary of a recent hard-won weight loss. I’m grateful. Very grateful.
And so I’ve gotten a new bike. My husband, who already has and rides both a road bike and a mountain bike, was thrilled to find e-bikes (or electric bikes) available for rent recently while we were on a little get-away. I decided to join him in giving them a go, and did. It was an absolute delight.
I’d not been on a bicycle in 20 years, maybe longer. I was a little wobbly at first, but it didn’t take long to get the feel of one again. And off we went.
The special beauty of these bikes is that they have a battery pack and small motor attached. That means, as you may be aware, that you’ve got power besides your two legs to move you along. You can use as much or as little assist as you want, or need, to use. I discovered immediately that lots of assist on a steep hill is wonderful. Most wonderful, indeed.
Before our ride was over I knew I wanted one of my own. Now I have one and so does hubby. I’m accumulating riding gear of various sorts and anticipate many joyful hours on the road with Rick and our new wheels.
I share this because I’m just a little bit giddy over it all. Over the weight loss, over my having regained some measure of my squandered, much-taken-for-granted health, over God’s great goodness to me, over the new bike. And because it’s just fun to share happy things.
Each of you is . . . well, wherever you are. Some of you have remained active right along, and my hat’s off to you. Some have suffered/are suffering ill health, rendering certain activities impossible at this time. But I’m here to tell you that for most of us, more is possible than we believe. We can lose weight, we can move more, we can make new and different choices. We can and should be taking full advantage of what God has blessed us with regarding our time, our energy, our resources, our intellect. I believe we should continue to stretch ourselves, learn new things, enjoy fresh experiences through our lifetimes. We grow that way. And growth fends off stagnation.
The Lord has richly blessed each of us despite any of our present circumstances. Whatever is possible for you is yours if you want it badly enough.
Take it from an old lady with a new bike.
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A Few Thoughts On Fire
My state is on fire. So is the one below it and the one below that. I’ve got many acquaintances who have been displaced. Some know their homes are gone; some aren’t sure yet. And I have friends that have friends who have perished or been badly injured. It may turn out that I know a few myself and am simply unaware as yet. I hope and pray not, but many dozens are unaccounted for at this time.
It’s an outsized disaster and one in a string of many in recent months. What’s going on?
The short answer is that “an enemy has done this” (Matthew 13:28) – an enemy to God and, by extension, His creation. That would include you and me and this planet. Peter reminds us that “Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8).
He’s doing a good job, the enemy, as we’re dropping right and left, it seems.
So where is God in all this? The happy and reassuring reality is that He’s right where He’s always been – on His throne, in control, whatever evidence there might seem to be to the contrary. David claimed, in Psalm 22:28, “For kingship belongs to the Lord,” and he was right. God is the Creator of the universe and as such is the One in charge. He’s never given up that control and, in fact, ensured that He will retain it forever by His redemptive act on the cross. He created us and . . . He paid for us.
That should encourage us. We Christians have hope. Things will not always be like this. We’re promised that pain and sorrow, anguish and tears, sin and dissolution, will one day be things of the past. There will be a grand healing and restoration take place which will involve the planet itself and humans who were made to inhabit it. (See Revelation 21:1-4 for one of many fantastic descriptions of this glorious event.) Won’t that be the day?!
So take heart, my friends. Whatever your present circumstances – may they be fire, flood, a troubled relationship, health challenges, financial difficulties, grief, loneliness, fear – you need not despair. You should not despair. We have a multitude of promises that assure us we are not alone in them, that God Himself is with us and will see us through. Here’s just one: “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with My righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10).
So. Where these fires are concerned: they will eventually go out or be put out. The choking and coughing and eye-burning misery will cease. We’ll go home again or find new homes. We’ll pick up and move one, even the most affected of us. But that’s not good enough for us, and it shouldn’t be.
The “good enough,” and much better than “good enough,” will be heaven, where none of this torment will ever be faced again. The enemy will have been permanently, irrevocably vanquished and will be entirely absent from the picture, as will everything that accompanies his involvement in this world’s affairs.
That‘s the day we look forward to. In the meantime, pray for the suffering, uncertain, bereaved, frightened, anxious, healing ones. There are fires, right now, and they’re worse than awful. But let us rest assured – and may we unhesitatingly share this assurance with others as opportunities present – that this will certainly pass.
And that there’s a better day coming, Much better!
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Be Like Ivan
Ivan Fernandez looked at the runner ahead of him in stupefied disbelief. Abel Mutai, the man in the lead, the man whom Ivan had spent some considerable time trying to catch up to and hoping to pass, was slowing down. Abel, in fact, was nearly stopped. But the finish line was a short distance on. Ivan, once he’d collected himself, could see quite clearly what had happened.
It was noisy. There were signs and banners everywhere. People were shouting and gesturing. All the runners were fatigued. Abel believed he’d won the race and that it was over, mistaking some indicator or the other for the finish line. But he was wrong. And now the race win was easily within Ivan’s grasp.
What to do? Ivan didn’t hesitate for an instant. The photos show him touching Abel’s back from behind and pointing him toward the finish line. They didn’t speak a common language but it didn’t take Abel long to comprehend the message. He finished, then Ivan did.
The conversation that took place with a journalist afterwards is instructive. It went something like this.
“Why did you do that?,” Ivan was asked. “Why did you let him win?” “I didn’t let him win,” was Ivan’s reply. He was going to win. The race was his. My dream is that someday we can have a kind of community life where we push and help each other to win.”
The thick-headed journalist pressed on. “But you could have won!”
Ivan looked at him and said this: “But what would be the merit of my victory? What would be the honor in that medal? What would my mother think of that?”
Indeed. Where would be the merit? Where the honor? And what would Mother think?
These sentiments seem to be largely and inexplicably missing in our age. So often we see what appears to be blatant disregard for others and a focus on self. But it needn’t be that way. It shouldn‘t be that way. I may be preaching to the choir but it doesn’t hurt to be reminded every now and then of our interconnectedness as inhabitants of this planet, of our need for one another, and how we all benefit from having kindness extended to us and by extending it to others.
The Golden Rule has always applied, will always apply. Jesus said, “. . . in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you . . .” (Matthew 7:12). Ivan apparently learned this truth at his mother’s knee. It took. Did it take with you? With me?
Today’s a new today. And then tomorrow will come. We’re given multiple opportunities every single day to put this principle into practice. We hope that others take into account our needs, our desires, our fears, our circumstances, our beliefs as they interact with us. But we can’t control others. We can, however, control our own responses and reactions to others. And God expects us to. So would our mothers.
Be like Ivan!
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Juice and Graham Crackers
“Being heard is so close to being loved that for the average person they are almost indistinguishable.”
David Augsburger, Caring Enough to Hear and Be Heard
I have, fortunately for me, a couple of friends who are listeners. I know they’ve heard me when they follow through with questions and comments appropriate to what I’ve told them. Much later, even, when we speak, they’ll ask me about situations/people/relationships/fears/joys I’ve shared with them. These friends are invaluable to me because they have connected themselves by their hearts to my heart, the part of myself I guard most closely and am most protective of. It is, after all, so very easily harmed.
This world has been, since nearly the beginning, cold and hard and very, very arduous to move around in. Without having someone that we know loves us, cares about us, it’s infinitely more difficult yet. Some of you know this by sad personal experience.
One of our responsibilities as members of humanity is to take care of one another. God loves us. God certainly is always available to us. For sure God is the very best and most effectual listener of all. But we humans are who are present in the flesh and are looking one another directly in the eye. We humans are the ones sitting knee-to-knee with nothing between during the difficult, confusing, painful times, as well as the joyful and pleasurable ones. And we humans are, or should be, God with skin on, as they say, for one another.
Anne Lamott, one of my favorite authors, says this in her book Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith: Our preacher . . . said recently that this is life’s nature: that lives and hearts get broken – those of people we love, those of people we’ve never met. She said that the world sometimes feels like the waiting room of the emergency ward and that we who are more or less OK for now need to take the tenderest possible care of the more wounded people in the waiting room, until the (H)ealer comes. You sit with people, she said, you bring them juice and graham crackers.”
You sit with people. You listen to them. Really listen. That’s how you show you care. That’s how they know you love them. You do what you can. And when it’s your turn; when you yourself are in need – look around for the listeners. They’ll be the ones with juice and graham crackers. They’ll be looking for you.
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A Warm Blanket
“You’re like a warm blanket in a cold place,” my friend said to me. She was in a perfectly dreadful situation regarding her health and hadn’t yet come out the other side. It shook me, her saying that. Shook, moved, and awakened me.
Life happens. Life is happening. And I don’t need to tell you it’s not very pretty at times. It’s not pretty right now, and that’s a fact. It’s certainly not easy, and really never has been.
But now, perhaps more than ever, and in a climate that itself contributes to divisiveness, confusion, and pain, we need each other. We’re all in need of a warm blanket at times, and occasionally we are, blessedly, the blanket.
This is not what will be a typical post. This is simply a bit of an explanation for this blog’s existence and an invitation to join me in the journey of our lives. There’s so much going on. There are so many challenges, threats, and dangers. But we’ve got each other and, if we are believers, we’ve got God. He’s ever available. There are lessons to be learned and blessings to be gained. There most certainly are pleasures to be enjoyed.
And that’s the purpose of this blog: to share the wonders of life, to lift each other up, to make some sense of what’s going on around us.
I desire to be a warm blanket. Sometimes I’m going to need a warm blanket. But if we can move forward together; if we can grow and encourage and support one another – well, we all win, don’t we?
So come in and look around. This is a work in progress and I’m brand-new at this, so be gentle with me but honest. Please contribute by commenting, and if you like what you see as we develop, share with your friends.
And come back. Do please come back. We need each other.