This week I read an article about the consequences of self-inflicted actions. It brought several thoughts to mind. One, being that I am thankful I am in the “well-seasoned” era of my life where I have learned that what we do today may greatly affect what our tomorrow looks like. We don’t always have to speak our minds or act on our emotions when it’s detrimental to others and ourselves. And then of course, the article stirred a memory of a situation years ago when I did just that. Without going into a lot of detail, just let me say that I let my tongue wag with unwholesome talk that tore down instead of building up. (Ephesians 4:9)  I would have been wise to have zipped it. Later, I found out from a mutual friend that the consequences could have been much worse than they were. The person I had spoken out against verbalized her intentions to take me to court. She had the money to do it and much more influence in the community than I did.  What a mess that could have been if our friend had not diffused the situation. Although she did not make good on her threat, I still wished I had done things differently.

There are many other examples of self-inflicted painful consequences that may not be as severe but still impact our daily lives. For example – have you ever stepped out on icy sidewalks with smooth soled shoes, only to fall? Maybe, you’ve had serious car repairs because you didn’t keep up on regular oil changes. Have you put so much on your credit card that it now seems you’ll never be out of debt? Maybe you failed to repaint the deck when you knew you should have, and now the boards are rotting. All examples of self-inflicted consequences that could have been avoided if things had been done differently.  

In my case, when I’ve done things I knew could have been avoided, I find it hard to ask for help. Afterall, did I not deserve it?  Shouldn’t I lie by myself in the bed I made?  Besides, who’s really going to want to help me when they know it’s my own stupidity, stubbornness, or outright procrastination that got me into this dilemma?

 There is one we can always go to. God invites us to come to Him, no matter what we’ve done or didn’t do. I Peter 5:7 encourages us to cast all our cares upon Him with no mention of conditions. And Isaiah 58:9 says – then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry, and He will say, ‘Here I am.’ Again, without conditions. I am so thankful for a God who loves me unconditionally no matter what unthoughtful or stupid thing I’ve done.

Until next time – “keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

Have you ever thought so strongly about something that you didn’t even consider the possibility there could be something or someone that could change your way of thinking?

I have to go back to my high school days to remember my first experience that taught me to “never say never.”

The guidance counselor was meeting with each student in my class privately to determine our interests and set us on a path of electives that would help us in our career choices at the end of our high school experience. “DeLila, what profession do you think you’d like to pursue when you graduate?” Mrs. Allen asked. I pondered that question for a while and then answered, “I have no idea what I want to be, but I know I DON’T want to be a nurse.”

I don’t know why I felt so strongly against this honorable profession, but I was adamant that nothing would change my mind about it.  Then….Grandpa Harley became ill and his condition continued to worsen almost daily. The doctors couldn’t determine the basis of why he was losing weight, becoming frail and weak, and feeling poorly. In 1970 they didn’t have the sophisticated means of diagnosing like we have today.

The inevitable crisis climaxed in my grandparent’s small living room there on Park Avenue in Norfolk Nebraska. Grandpa passed out as Grandma watched his eyes roll back in his head. “Harley, Harley” she yelled as she shook his shoulders. There was no response.  He was still breathing when the ambulance arrived, but by the time they reached the hospital it was evident Grandpa was losing blood from an unknown internal source. Weighing less than 90 pounds when they took him into surgery that day, it was a last-ditch emergent effort to help Grandpa. The surgeon told us straight out that he might not come back to us. I couldn’t imagine life without my loving Grandpa.

This story ends well, but Grandpa was extremely weak from the loss of blood and the surgery that repaired a large bleeding ulcer. He would need lots of care before he regained his independence. His stay in the hospital was long enough that we made the four hour trip several times to visit him. The nurses were amazing! They were the eagle eyes for the doctors – reporting whatever looked amiss and troubling. They were kind to the family, often including us in delightful conversations in an effort to know us better. My respect and admiration began to grow for these sweet and competent caregivers.

The day finally came when Grandpa was discharged. He needed more help than Grandma could give on her own. It was summer. Dad released me from the hayfield to move in with Grandpa and Grandma to help. During this time my heart continued to soften towards the idea of being a nurse. By the time I went back to school in the fall, I knew my electives needed to include more math and science courses. At the end of my senior year, I was accepted into the Bryan School of Nursing program. Forty-five years after graduating as a registered nurse, I retired.

This is all to remind us: We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps. (Proverbs 16:9) Said another way in the same chapter in verse 33 – We can throw the dice, but the Lord determines how they fall.

I don’t think I’ve said the word, “I’ll never” since that experience. Our plans sometimes get rerouted. But you know what? I rest in the thought that God has the best plan for me so it’s okay.  

Until next time – Keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

I have a bright yellow index card taped at eye level to the door I go out of to get to my car. On this card I have written the words of Colossians 3:12 to remind me whom I belong; that I’m about to go out into the world and represent Jesus. Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. (NIV) As I slip into my jacket, I pray that He will help me to make Him look good to others. Their souls may depend on it.

Sometimes, as believers, we get this right and sometimes we don’t. I encountered two incidents this week with two Christians who handled their situations with totally different responses, resulting in two different outcomes. The first incident occurred at the lumberyard. I chit-chatted with the customer in front of me; an acquaintance I had met once before at a benefit dinner for a non-profit organization. I knew from the conversation at the table that night that this man was a believer and active in his church. As he stepped up to the counter, he pulled the note from his shirt pocket where he had scribbled the dimensions of the board he needed. The clerk handed the note off to another employee who disappeared through a back door. In 5-10 minutes the employee returned carrying a board that the customer instantly recognized as being the wrong size – not even close. To be very honest, I was embarrassed and quite surprised by the way my fellow brother responded. He barraged the employee with insults as the younger man tried to explain his mistake of misreading the (scribbled) dimensions on the note. The clerk immediately promised the man a new board and this seemed to finally satisfy the agitated customer. I found myself being thankful my Christian brother was not wearing a T-shirt proclaiming his Christian beliefs. Had that been the case, I’m afraid his attempt at witnessing by wearing words on his chest would have been futile and even harmful.

On my second encounter, I was enjoying coffee with a friend at a local coffee shop. A couple I knew from church sat at the next table. We exchanged pleasantries as my friend and I sat down. Our coffee orders were delivered quickly but I noticed the couple beside us had not yet received theirs. I commented to them that they must have ordered an early lunch, but they said, “No, just coffees.” Several minutes later the husband had the chance to catch the waitress as she scurried by. With a calm demeanor and a smile he inquired, “We are wondering if something has happened to our order, we’ve waited twenty minutes and I see several others that came in after us have gotten their orders.” The waitress promised to go check on it immediately. Soon she was back to give them the unfortunate news. “I am so sorry, Sir… your order was given to another table. They are fixing yours now.” She again apologized.

The man grinned and replied, “Hope they like pumpkin spice.” The waitress relaxed. “We aren’t in any hurry, just don’t want to stay for lunch,” the man added with a kind smirk. “Thank-you so much,” the young woman said with genuine appreciation. I couldn’t help but think this man would have worn that t-shirt well.

The take home for me this week: don’t take that yellow index card down any time soon. I never know when I’ll face a trying situation in public. I am watched…not only by others, but Jesus sees it too. If I want to make Him proud, I need to be diligent with the reminders that He gives me. Just this morning in the devotional “Our Daily Bread” is a short prayer that sums up my thoughts. Life-giving God, thank You for Your Spirit. Please produce within me fruit for others to enjoy.

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

Some doorways are easier to walk through than others. I’ve had some doorways in my lifetime that have been just plain hard to go through, but none that I dreaded more than the doorway into first grade.

I was a very timid child; other than my brother and sister, kids were beyond intimidating to me. I don’t know what I thought they’d do to me, but I had no desire to find out. When my parents visited family friends that had children, I cowered in the living room with the adults. When we attended family reunions at the park, no matter how much I might have wanted to play on the playground equipment, I sat at the picnic tables with the grown-ups where I felt safe. Not necessarily happy – but safe. The walls that I had put up around myself kept me locked inside of a make believe – but real prison.

The day that I had been dreading for months, was going to be here in less than a week. On Monday, the school bus would stop at the end of our lane and I was expected to get on it. I was terrified of what I had imagined would be there in that classroom. I tried to convince my parents that I would do anything they asked if I could just stay home. I clung to my pillow each night as it collected my anguished tears. For the first time in my life, my parents couldn’t fix my insecurities. They said it was a law; I had to go to school.

The school year passed quickly- something I would have never anticipated. By Halloween I knew the name of every kid in my class and even liked most of them. I had gained a best friend – something I had never had before. We hung out together at recess and participated in kickball, jacks, and dodgeball with the rest of our classmates. When I looked back to the beginning of the school year I couldn’t believe I had been so afraid to walk through that door. A lot changed inside of me in those months between September and May. I no longer felt completely trapped inside the confining walls of shyness. It had been a door I never would have wished for, but one that greatly benefited me, none the less.

At the end of our lives, we will all have another door we must walk through. The name plate beside this door will say “Death.” It sounds frightening, but it doesn’t have to be. 1 Corinthians 15:54 tells us that Christ gave up His own life for our sake, and then He rose from the dead. Death has been swallowed up in victory! When we know Christ, we can step across the threshold with confidence and joyful anticipation. The minute we take that last step on earth and step across the threshold into the heavenly realm He welcomes us into His glory. In the words of Max Lucado, “With Christ as your friend and heaven as your home, the day of death becomes sweeter than the day of birth.”

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

I

Aunt DonnaBell taught grade school in the 1960’s. In 1963 she was teaching 4th grade – the same grade I was in at the time but in another school. She was always interested in knowing what my class was doing for projects; hoping for inspiration, I’m sure. One evening when they were visiting, she asked her usual question. I ran to get the poem I had written and illustrated. It would be going to the Pierce County Fair to be judged. She smiled at the picture and then read the poem. I have never forgotten what she said.

“This is wonderful. I wish my 4th graders could write like this.” My head swelled. Coming from a schoolteacher that wasn’t necessarily inclined to compliment, this meant something extrodinaire to a nine year old. I never forgot the compliment nor did I forget writing. My words march on!

In was during those same grade school years that Grandpa and I were fishing buddies. He often drove out from their retirement home in Norfolk, NE with a coffee can full of worms and his green fishing box. I would grab my cane pole and off we’d go to the Elkhorn River that ran through our property. The first time I caught a nice sized bullhead, Grandpa showered me with praise.

“Well…look at you! Now, that’s a beauty.” He patted me on the back and continued to compliment me as he took it off the hook and placed it on the stringer. To this day, fishing is one of my favorite leisure activities.

A few years later in life, my mom worked at the airport as a weather observer. I was a small, timid, and insecure high school student by this time. Mom invited a new employee and his wife to dinner. His name I’ve forgotten, but her name was Mary. It has stuck all these years because she said something that impacted me greatly. My olive colored skin was deeply tanned from the hayfields and I was wearing my best color – royal blue.

“DeLila has a natural charm and is a beautiful young lady,” she said to my mom. I looked at myself a bit differently after that; my self-respect and confidence continued to grow after that comment.

I bet each of you can think of kind words that were spoken to you years ago that helped shape who you are, as well.

Words contain power that we seldom think about – both good and bad. Ephesians 4:29 in TPT sums it up like this: Never let ugly or hateful words come from your mouth, but instead let your words become beautiful gifts that encourage others; do this by speaking words of grace to help them.

Each of these people I shared with you, gave me beautiful gifts and words of grace that encouraged me for a lifetime. Hopefully, there will be those that say the same about us.

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

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