Grover

“I am the light of the world, follow me!" ~ John 8:12

Grover missed his cardboard ‘castle.’  As he dreamt wishfully of a roaring fireplace and his jumbo chew toy, he wondered if he would ever see his family again.  He was alone now; cold, afraid and suffering unbearable pain.

Just this morning, he was the happiest pup on the planet.  He should have listed to the sage advice of his owner and best friend Kenny.  Definitely a full-on mischief maker, Grover left the yard to “run with the big dogs.”   

Train tracks near the river caught their attention.  But the insanely curious pooch didn’t notice an approaching train and tried crossing just as the lights began to flash.  Bad idea!  Paralyzed by fear, Grover cowered between the rails. 

His pals waited patiently until the train passed.  When the puppy was nowhere to be seen, they slowly walked away.

Grover had no idea what’d just happened.  He was afraid to move; so he lay still ‘til the sun rose again the next morning.  A cacophony of unfamiliar smells filled his nostrils.

Then he felt it.  An excruciating pain rocketed though his lower body.  It felt as if his hind legs had been crushed.  The pain was intolerable.  He fell back down, hoping someone might find him, and save him, and love him once again.  He seemed invisible – maybe he had died.

Then a Voice deep within him spoke up.  “Grover, you’ve got to save yourself!” 

But his hind legs, matted with blood, hurt like crazy.  He was hungry too . . . and sad!

“You can do it Grover!  Follow me, I am the light of the world!” offered a sympathetic Voice.

He rose up on two front paws and looked around for someone; anyone. 

“Pull yourself forward, one step at a time.  I have faith in in you,” the Voice encouraged.

And so he did, dragging his shattered limbs behind him – 6 inches, then one meter, eventually a half block.  Suddenly from what seemed like out of nowhere, two arms scooped him up.  Even though he ached with pain, Grover had never been handled so gently; so lovingly.  He nuzzled his warm nose into the crook of the massive arms that cradled him, and collapsed into nothingness.

He woke in front of a familiar fire, amid the comfort of his favorite blanket; his chew toy nearby.

No one would ever know the real story of how he returned home.  Had a kind stranger carried him?  Or had had crawled on two paws over a mile in the icy cold by himself?  There was no blood on the porch; no tracks of any kind in the snow.   Once again the happiest pup on the planet and he knew who to thank - even though His Lord's face was never revealed.

Heavenly Father, brighten us from within.  Help us show others the way with a generosity which spills into darkest corners.  Let our faith be stronger than our fear and instill in us a love which glows amidst distrust.  Amen

Secret to Happiness

“The time to be happy is now.  The place to be happy is here.  The way to be happy is to make others so.” ~ Robert Ingersoll

The young waitress watched him shuffle slowly into the restaurant.  With head tilted and shoulders bent forward, he leaned on his trusty cane with each measured step.

Something about Leo separated him from the usual Saturday morning breakfast crowd.  Unforgettable was the twinkle in his eyes when he spoke; he had such a soft and gentle voice.  Cheryl could tell by the way he talked that he didn’t have much education, but there was a certain wisdom about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.  He seemed to study people – not in nosy sort of way, but in a manner that suggested a caring authenticity. 

“Good morning Leo, welcome back!” Cheryl said warmly. “The usual?”

Without a word, Leo smiled and nodded agreeably.  

Steadying him with one arm, she helped him into his usual booth by the window and get comfortably seated.  She leaned his cane against the table where he could reach it.

In a soft, clear voice Leo said, “Thank you, Cheryl . . .  and bless you for your kindness.”

“You're always welcome, Leo,” she replied and placed a ‘recycled’ newspaper on the table.  “I'll be back in a flash; if you need anything at all in the mean time, just wave at me!”

She busily waited on other customers while he finished the paper in silence.  “Thanks,” he gestured when she bought his order and refilled his coffee cup.

After he’d finished a hearty meal of oatmeal, crisp bacon and hot lemon tea, Cheryl brought him the change from his bill.  She helped him up and out of the booth before handing him his cane for the short walk to the front door.

Holding the door open for him, she said, “See you next week Leo, have a blessed week!”

He turned with his whole body, winked, then nodded a thank you.  “You’re very kind, dear,” he whispered softly.

When Cheryl went to clean his table, she almost fainted.  Under his plate was $300 in cash for his $7 breakfast.  He’d scribbled a small note on the napkin which read, “Thank you, Cheryl.  You’ve found the secret to happiness - your smile and friendly service over the years gave me something to look forward to every week after my wife passed.  I’m moving to Long Island this evening to live with my son and his family.  May the rest of your life be magical.”

Acts of kindness are not difficult or expensive.  With a little bit of imagination and forethought you can bring an abundance of cheer to an elderly friend or relative.  We are all going to be in their shoes one day (hopefully) so keep them in the top of your thoughts and do your part to help.  It will surely bring you more happiness than those you help!

Lord of life, help me savor every season as a gift filled with promise.  Grant me the strength to lovingly accept Your will, that when the moment of my ‘passage’ comes, I shall have no regret for what I leave behind.  Amen

The Argument

“A kind answer sooths angry feelings." ~ Proverbs 15:1

It started like most others, a mild disagreement over Jack’s long hours.  There was no argument about his weekly schedule, typically 60 to 65 hours per week.  But this one quickly escalated; Ginny found herself spinning out of control. 

She started screaming at the top of her lungs, slamming doors - basically throwing a tantrum like a child.  Probably long overdue from years of neglect, something finally snapped.

Jack had faced tremendous personal stress lately – pressure at work, a recent death in the family, an underwater mortgage, and now this.  His face reddened; he felt like lava had been emptied into his bloodstream. 

When His parents fought, Joel left the room, closed the door and turned his music up load.  Luckily today was a school day.  He grabbed a light coat and bolted for the front door.  He hated when they said mean things to each other.  It hurt too much to listen to them.  

Back in the kitchen, tempers flared.  Voices grew louder.  Name calling began.  Frustrations catapulted to anger, skipping all the levels between slight irritation and boiling rage.  I was like one of those Formula I cars that raced from zero to about two hundred in seconds.

Ginny started crying hysterically.  Jack’s overheated brain wasn’t falling for the tears though.  So she retreated to the closet and came out with a suitcase. 

Jack knew he’d gone too far and just wanted to end the fight.  But his pride wouldn’t allow it.  Taking a couple of deep breaths, he counted to ten and suggested that they needed to work this out.

Still fueled by raw emotion, Ginny insisted she’d married a monster and was going home to her mother’s. 

Jack offered an apology, more to end the dispute than anything.  Ginny knew this was Jack’s manipulative way of postponing the argument until later.  She continued packing.

That’s when Jack grabbed her suitcase, opened it and placed their wedding album in it.  He told her that if they couldn’t sit down and find a way to discuss it, they didn’t stand a chance at staying together.  Then he slammed the door and left for work.

Tonight as Jack headed home from a fruitless day at the office hoping to make things right with Ginny, his son Joel called.  “Mom’s been rushed to the hospital.  She collapsed in the kitchen for no apparent reason.  I’m at the hospital now, praying.”

We often stay in arguments much longer than we really want to because we're afraid to lose face by backing down.  It's important to remember that choosing the relationship over the current argument could be the best thing that you can do in the situation.  There's nothing about that to lose face over!

Lord, when we disagree, let us do so in a spirit of charity rather than anger.  Remind us of the mercy that You’ve shown and motivate us to share that which we’ve been given.  Let the hope which lives within us melt our frozen hearts.  Amen

Sink Hole Soul

"Don't tell the Lord how big your problem is; tell the problem how great your Lord is!”

Aaron, a devoted Christian, lived in a small Alabama town.   His faith was undeniable – he went to church every Sunday, read his Bible daily, and never denied help to anyone needing it. 

The rains came earlier and heavier than expected this year.  Dams, dikes, and flood control channels filled quickly to capacity.  With more rain in the forecast, authorities called for the evacuation of Aaron’s town.

People started clearing the stores of food and water.  Aaron watched from his sidewalk as neighbors packed their cars, trucks, and RVs for higher ground.    Aaron remained steadfast in his belief that "God will take care of me!"

Torrential rain came as predicted; streets flooded as the water had nowhere to go.  Continuous storms had weakened the concrete where he stood.  Suddenly, the sidewalk collapsed and he fell into a sink hole that formed under his feet.  He was helplessly trapped!

Despite the fast rising water, Aaron calmly lifted his hands towards heaven and prayed, "Dear Lord, I’m in serious trouble here.   I trust You’ll get me out.  Everything happens for Your glory."

A friend saw his predicament.  "Give me your hand and I’ll pull you out!" he urged. "NO!”Aaron shouted, “God has things under control, He’ll rescue me in His time.”  The friend, fearing his own peril, decided not to argue and sprinted off.

Aaron prayed more anxiously now, “Use me, Lord, as an example; an instrument of faith!"

A stranger in a boat came rowing by. "Give me your hand, buddy, and I’ll pull you into my boat." Again Aaron declined.  "NO!  God will work His glory today."  Shaking his head in disbelief, the stranger paddled away.

Aaron prayed urgently now, the water nearing his jaw line.  "Father, I trust You and know you will get me out of this mess.  Everything in life happens for Your glory.  Help me please!"

A rescue helicopter hovered over head.   Hanging perilously from a rope ladder, a Rescue Team member yelled, "Give me your hand, Sir, and I’ll help you to safety."  

Predictably, Aaron replied, "NO!  God will save me Himself today."  The rescue crew chief, knowing there were many more lives yet to be saved, ordered the chopper to fly off.

Soon Aaron drowned. 

Angels took his soul before God’s almighty throne.  After exchanging pleasantries, a confused Aaron asked the obvious question:  "Why Lord?  I prayed for help, I never doubted You, yet you let me die.  Where did I fail?"

God shook His mighty head, "My child, I love you dearly and would never leave you no matter what trials or hardships you encountered.  BUT YOU FOOL!  Three times I sent someone to help you – and three times you foolishly refused!"

Trust Me and commit your lives to Me!  But always remain open-minded to the ways I choose to help you, which almost always requires some work on your part. ~ God

The Candidate

“Don’t ever stop thinking about what’s honorable, right and respected." ~ Philippians 4:8

It was 1942; he’d caught all-night guard duty.  There wasn’t much activity in the European Theatre at three in the morning; just enough to keep soldiers on edge. 

While Gary walked his post, he spent the cold, miserable night pondering his future.  By morning he’d reached a decision.  His Private’s pay would never support the woman to whom he was engaged.  Despite slim qualifications, Gary would apply for Officer Candidate School.  

Within weeks, he faced intense questioning from the Selection Board.  “Do you drink?”  “Have you learned to overcome fear?”  “How much sleep to you get?”  Gary fielded them with no trouble.

They continued in rapid succession. “Do you pray?”  “Do you think an officer should pray?”  These questions came from a hardened career soldier; not a guy who likely spent much time on his knees in prayful reflection.  Gary paused to collect his thoughts.

Would a truthful answer disqualify him from officer training?  He wanted this so badly, not just to avoid late-night patrol, KP and latrine duties.  But mostly so that he and his sweetheart could afford to get married.

Gary didn’t equivocate.  He admitted praying often and cited several great generals who did the same.  He told the Board that officers should be prepared to lead their troops in all activities, including prayer when conditions required it.

The questions grew more hostile.  “In times of war, shouldn’t the moral code be relaxed?  Doesn’t the stress of battle justify doing things that men wouldn’t do under normal situations?”

Gary quickly recognized that these inquiries offered a chance to look broad-minded.  He considered a soft retreat – careful that while he had his own beliefs, it might be immoral to impose them on others.  This would surely gain him some points with Board members whose moral compass pointed in multiple directions. 

In the end he stated simply, “I don’t believe war permits a double standard.” 

He left the interview resigned to the fact that those calloused, war-mongers viewed him as naïve; unfit to lead soldiers into battle.  Surely his scores would rank too low.

But to his astonishment, when the scores were posted a few days later, not only had Gary passed, but he was in the first group taken for Officer Candidate School!  He graduated, became a second lieutenant, married his sweetheart – never ambiguous in his beliefs.

He faced one of life’s critical crossroads and chose a faith-filled path.  The life of Christ teaches us great practical character lessons.  Despite difficult circumstances, He always responded in with love and kindness.  Yet, at the same time, He was a man of great passion, strength, and courage.  This is how we can . . . and should respond.

Dear Lord, we’re all a mixture of both good and bad; ethical and corrupt.  When faced with choices, lead me to the moral high ground.  When I’ve done something wrong, help me do what’s necessary to get back on track.  Amen

 

Bumper Snicker

“God will work in your heart to make you more like Jesus." ~ John 1:12

Janice was having an awful day.  Granted, it wasn’t as bad as the day she found out her brother died, or the day she found cigarettes in her teen’s desk drawer.  But this one was a doozie!

She woke exhausted after another dreamless night.  Earlier today the preschool toilet clogged.  It got much worse when nobody told her until the pungent odor wafted into the classroom making the kids wonder if a skunk had died nearby. 

No sooner had Janice plunged the blockage, she remembered an appointment that she’d soon miss if she didn’t hurry.  She climbed aboard her massive SUV and headed into the concrete jungle where in place of stampeding rhinos and ravenous tigers are people - all in her way now!   

In some ways rush hour was exhilarating; the sensation of personal power intoxicating.  Sealed in her private pod, Janice controlled everything from climate to entertainment.  A road warrior; anyone who got in her way was the enemy.

The stoplight turned green . . . but the car in front of her remained motionless.  “That light’s not going to get any greener!  Move it or park it,” she yelled.  This Dimwit represented the difference between her being on time or late.  Patience unraveling, she honked the horn and yelled some more.

The driver noticed her aggravation and hit the gas too quickly.  His car stalled as the light turned from green to yellow.  Janice pounded on her steering wheel as cacophony of expletives escaped her mouth.  She missed her chance to get through the intersection.

She was still cursing when she heard a tap on her window and looked up at a very stern police officer.  He told her to shut the engine off.  As she exited her car, he cuffed her hands and shoved her into his patrol car.   She complied – too puzzled to ask any questions.  At the police station, she was photographed, fingerprinted, booked and placed in a cell.

Several hours passed before a jailer opened the door.  The original officer waited for her at the booking desk with her belongings.

"I'm sorry for the mistake, M’am” he said.  “I pulled up behind you while you were blowing your horn and flipping that guy off in front of you.  Then I noticed your ‘Proud to be a Christian’ and ‘Jesus Loves You’ bumper stickers.  Naturally I assumed you’d stolen someone else's car."

Do you ever have those times when you can’t believe what you just said or did?  I’m guilty!  There’s no such thing as a perfect Christian, but don’t lose heart.  Jesus surrounded himself with people just like you and me.  He doesn’t want you to be perfect – just available.  His love always extends beyond the stupid, crazy things we say and do.

Father, I’m such an ImPerFct Christian!  Use my inadequate words to speak Your truth, my flawed behavior to bless others, and my imperfect faith to show how truly amazing You are.  Amen

Rivalry Gone Bad

“Don’t be jealous, but consider others more important than yourselves." ~ Philippians 2:3

All it takes is two schools, both with an intense desire to compete and win.  Over a period of time, the repetitive opposition takes on a life of its own.  That's when a rivalry is born.

Throw out the records, demographics, school size and geography.  Just put the ball in play, blow the whistle and see who wants it more.

For the most part, rivalries are clean, fun competition.  Powered by the need to excel, it drives athletes to work harder and perform better.  Sometimes it can go too far.

The biggest game of the season was only 5 days away, and rivals Westside and Marshall High Schools were already stoking their respective competitive ‘fires.’  Both schools planned rallies, reunions, and harmless pranks.

But after Westside maintenance crews discovered their school's sculpted Bulldog mascot half-striped in orange and black spray paint, things went from friendly to irrational quickly.  The prank had been an attempt to portray the Bulldog as a Tiger, Marshall’s mascot.

Joel, a Westside senior, led the retaliatory ‘charge.’  Fueled by raw emotion, he and a team of four others littered Marshall’s campus, sports complex and football field with graffiti.  Leaving no room for suggestion, indelible messages scribbled in Westside’s red and black colors were derogatory, racial and sexual in nature. 

In their rush to escape without detection, Joel lost control of his SUV, flipped a guardrail, and plummeted 50 feet onto the expressway below.  Joel died at the scene; two of the other four occupants were hospitalized with life-threatening injuries.  The horrific car crash left grief-stricken Westsiders emotionally paralyzed.

School officials considered cancelling Friday’s “big” game.  The rivalry had perhaps become too explosive, too toxic, entirely too dangerous.  In the end, they hired additional security personnel instead and prayed for the best. 

The evening of the big game arrived.  Tensions ran high; school administrators remained on high alert for even the slightest hint of a potential altercation.     

A sea of jubilant, red-clad Westside fans screamed the school’s fight song as Marshall school busses approached Westside’s stadium behind a full police escort.  Sherriff’s deputies in full riot gear lined the pathway to the visitor’s bleachers. 

But when Marshall students and faculty stepped off their busses, the raucous Westside crowd went deathly silent.  For instead of wearing their traditional orange and black colors, Marshall fans were clad in Westside’s colors – red and black . . .  to show support in Westside’s time of need . . . to end the insanity . . . to transform the rivalry into something positive again.

As a sports fan, healthy competition is a great thing.  But when rivalries become too intense, they become unhealthy and cloud rational thought.  Practicing sportsmanship beats teaching it!

Lord Jesus, I like to win!  But help me to compete fairly, excepting both victory and defeat with honor.  Remind me to view others as more important than myself; not as a means to an end. Amen