If Everyone Cared

“More blessings come from giving than receiving.”  ~ Acts 20:35

Walking briskly down the busy sidewalk, Cynthia spotted a beggar squatting on the corner.  Other pedestrians gave his dirty, unshaven looks an unsympathetic glance before moving on.  She however, was moved by compassion and hesitated before looking down. "Sir, are you all right?"

He looked up cautiously.  This was a woman clearly accustomed to the finer things of life.  Perfect hair, expensive leather – she’d probably never missed a meal.  "Leave me alone," he growled.

 

Unfazed by his insolence, she remained frozen in place.  "Are you hungry?" she asked.

"No, I just finished dining with Madonna,” he offered sarcastically.  “Go away!!"

The woman's face brightened.  A genuine, infectious smile spread across her – the kind that helps make friends wherever you go.  “You don’t remember me - do you Jack?”

The old man searched her face with his moist, red eyes.   "I’m not sure . . . you do look familiar."

Much older, a little heavier then when she’d wandered these same streets years before.  "I came to the city many winters ago looking for work,” Cynthia began, “but couldn't find anything.  I’d been kicked out of my apartment when I ran out of money.  The street became my home."

Jack lit up with a smile. "Now I remember," he said. "You were scared to death; cold and nearly starving.  I could see death behind your tired eyes."

"I know," Cynthia continued.  "You gave me a roast beef sandwich and a cup of coffee.  Then you handed me some bills and told me to get a room for a shower and a good night’s rest.  I’ve never been so grateful!  But when I looked for you the following day, you’d vanished."

"So I resumed my job search . . . with confidence.  I got a job that very afternoon.  It wasn’t much, but I worked my way up.  Eventually I started my own business that, with God’s grace, prospered."

She opened her purse and pulled out a business card.  "When you’re finished here, go see Ms. Byrons, my company’s Human Resources Manager.  I'll make sure she finds something for you to do around the office."  She grinned.  "I think she might even give you a little advance so that you can buy some clothes and get a place to live until you get on your feet.  And if you ever need anything, my door’s always open."

Jack couldn’t remember the last time that tears washed over his leathered cheeks.  "How can I ever thank you?

"No need, Cynthia answered.  "To God goes the glory - He led me to you!"  As I look back on my life, the moments when I have truly lived are those done in the shadow of HIs love. 

Lord Jesus, “if everyone cared and nobody cried, if everyone loved and nobody lied, if everyone shared and swallowed their pride, then we’d see the day when nobody died.”  Amen (from Nickelback’s “If Everyone Cared”) 

The $1.17 Miracle

“Carry each other’s burdens and you will please God." ~ Galatians 6:2

Shanice pulled a pink piggy bank from its hiding place in her closet.  She dumped its contents onto the floor and counted it methodically.   Placing the coins back in the bank, she slipped out the back door and skipped decisively to Walgreen’s Drug Store.

She waited patiently for the pharmacist to acknowledge her.   Shanice stomped her little feet and repulsively cleared her throat to get his attention.  No luck!  Finally she took a quarter from her bank and slapped it on the counter.  That did it!

"What do you want?  Can’t you see I’m busy?" he said in an annoyed tone without waiting for her reply.

"Well,” she answered back, hands on hips and in the same annoyed tone.  “I need to talk to you about my brother!   "He's really, really sick . . . and I’ve got money to buy a miracle."  If it isn't enough, I’ll get the rest.  Just tell me how much!"

"Come again," said the skeptical pharmacist.

"His name is Terrell and he has something bad growing inside his head.  Daddy says only a miracle can save him now.  So how much does a miracle cost?"

"Honey,” the pharmacist said with newfound tenderness.  “We don't sell miracles here.  I’m afraid I can't help you." 

A well dressed man waiting for his prescription overheard the conversation and couldn’t help but ask: "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"

I don't know," Shanice replied, eyes welling up.  "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation that Daddy can't afford, so I want to use my money, all $1.17 of it."

"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man, "Miracles for little brothers happen to be on sale today for $1.17.  You’re in luck!"

Taking her money in one hand, he grasped her mitten and said, "Take me to home to meet your family.  Let's see if I have the miracle you need."

That smartly dressed man turned out to be a neurosurgeon.  The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Terrell was home again and doing well.  Shanice overheard Mom and Daddy talking about the miraculous chain of events.  "I wonder how much that surgery cost?" her mom questioned.  Shanice smiled.  She knew exactly how much - $1.17, plus the love of a faithful child.

Things happen to us that at the time seem horrible, painful and unfair.  Upon reflection, we realize that without overcoming those obstacles, we never would have recognized our strength, courage or potential.

Everything happens for a reason.  Nothing occurs by chance or by luck.  Illness, injury, love, lost moments of true greatness, and sheer stupidity all occur to test the limits of our souls.

Lord Jesus, I am my brother’s keeper!  Help us who have received so freely from You, give as freely in return, in order to enjoy both the pleasure of giving and the happiness of receiving.  Amen

 

Heaven's Seven

“Earn respect by doing your best to live at peace with everyone." ~ Romans 12: 17-18

For the second time this month, her daughter came home from school in tears and Carolyn seemed helpless to stop it.  She’d been so happy in middle school.  But that had all changed.  Something about this seemed frighteningly familiar as her thoughts drifted back to own childhood experience.

Carolyn’s story began in elementary school where she made friends with six little girls. The seven soon became a clique.  By middle school, the clique had become more like a pack.  They only dressed name-brand clothing and wore their hair exactly the same way (long and straight).  They called themselves Heaven’s Seven and scoffed at other girls who couldn't (or wouldn't) act like them. 

Heaven’s Seven became experts at exclusion and cruelty, terrorizing both kids and adults.  Teachers and administrators were aware of their intimidation but were powerless to stop it.

Parents were thrilled by their daughters’ popularity.   Carolyn’s mom even had Heaven’s Seven T-shirts printed for the girls to wear at their eighth grade graduation.

Though she belonged to Heaven’s Seven, Carolyn felt trapped.  She knew it was wrong, but didn’t have the courage to confront her friends about their bullying or to leave the security of the group. 

Carolyn begged her parents to let her switch schools, but they refused.  The family had a long-standing connection to the school; three of Carolyn’s siblings were still enrolled there.  Her dad pitched a fit at the cost of her attending a private school.

The effect of her complacency bothers her to this day.  She paid a heavy price; one of guilt and fear.  She’s not the same person; she’d never treat anyone that way now.  But while these experiences lay in her past, she’s the mother of three young daughters.  That plants her right back in that circle; learning how to maneuver girls and friendships and personalities.

As she trudges up the stairs now to comfort her sobbing tween, her heart aches.  She knows from past experience that people can be thoughtless, cruel, and . . . even mean.  But her children are so very lucky.  Her past is their prologue. 

Her kids enter new situations assuming only one outcome – wide smiles and ample hugs.  They’re blessed with a Mom that understands the meaning of integrity, the value of compassion, and the courage to help them through it - lessons learned the hard way.  So help her God!

The start of a new school year is, for most, a time of excitement at seeing old friends and making new ones.  However, there are some kids who see the first day of school as a day of execution . . . victims of bullying because they’re different. 

Lord, protect those who are teased physically, verbally and online as well as those whose self-worth seems tied to making others hurt.  We pray for those who think they’re alone; those whose hope is disappeared.  Help them Jesus. Strengthen them.  Show them your love.  Amen

Txt BFFs 4evr

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart!" ~ Proverbs 3:5

Walker gazed into the open casket and brushed the hair away from her pale forehead.  He tried to memorize every contour of the beautiful face he wouldn’t forget.  He stared at her empty eyes, her closed mouth, her frozen heart.  Michaela couldn’t feel the love that surrounded her now; she could no longer speak or see the agony in his expression.

An unfamiliar man approached and touched him lightly on the back. “We’re so glad you came,” whispered Michaela’s father. “She talked about you all the time.  She even asked that her cell phone be buried with her so that you could still send her messages!”

He muttered “I can’t believe . . .” as sadness erased his remaining thought.

“Michaela passed away three days ago.  She suffered from heart disease since childhood,” her father said.  “We kept it a family secret - she loved being treated normally.”  Eyes now moist with grief, her father added, “She knew you’d come!”  And with that, he gently positioned her cell phone into Michaela’s palm and walked away.

Later as Walker sat alone in the chapel, he cried out to God: “Why her?  She didn’t deserve to die.  And dammit, I don’t deserve to suffer either!”

He got no answer – he really didn’t expect one from God.  He held his phone and typed, “u taught me how 2 care; u shwd me how 2 luv u.  but u forgot to teach me how 2 let u go! I <3 u!”

He sent the message knowing full well that she’d never respond.  But sending it cleansed his soul – it made him feel loved again.

Seconds later his phone beeped sending a cold shiver down his spine.  The sender’s number didn’t appear on the screen but tears rolled down Walker’s cheeks as he read the message.

“Let go of my hand, but dont ever let go of gods hand.  hell b holding my hand 2!”

A warm, pleasant glow replaced the spiny chill – the rush from a mountain of joyful memories remembered as if they happened yesterday.  Instantly he sensed God's grace to discover what he needed to move on.

Four of the most powerful words in the universe are “let go, let God.”  No matter what’s missing from your life – the love of someone special, an activity of great value, or a feeling of well-being - know that God is filling your need right now.

Take a deep breath.  Release it slowly; accepting the reality that God's wisdom is ever present, ready to fill you with new understanding, energy, and life.  Let Him fill every void, every emptiness that seems to separate you from the desires of your heart.  Let go! Let God!

I often forget to let go and give your control, Lord.  Help me realize that when You close one door, You open the one You want me to walk through.  I want to follow You.  I want what You desire for me.  Amen

 

Elyssa’s Lily

 “Don’t let anger defeat you.” ~ Ephesians 4:26-28

Elyssa was angry . . . and for good reason.  Her husband Cristian was serving time in prison for murder.  He claimed it was self-defense.  She knew he wasn’t capable of such a heinous act; violence would never have been his option.  But the jury said otherwise.  L

“Loneliness is the worst part,” Elyssa said to her friend Nina after taking an unsteady sip of hot coffee.  She’d never had to deal with anything like this. 

“I’m tired of packing the kids into the car every Sunday and driving ninety miles to the prison just to visit Cristian for an hour.  I’m thinking about visiting once a month instead; it’s just too much stress on us all.”

“Honey, I don’t know how you do it,” Nina nodded reassuringly. 

“I hate him for leaving me!  I hate paying the lawyer a small fortune to keep making appeals.  I hate that I have to clear out my own sewing room to make room for a boarder in order to make the house payment.  My ten-year old started wetting her bed a month ago.  Her younger brother spends much of his day in time-out.  I’m at the end of my rope!”

Softly, Nina tried to console her.  “You’re carrying so much anger; you’ve got to let it go!”

“What did you suggest I do, pretend I’m not mad?”

“Try this.  Make a list of the things that make you sad or angry.  When you finish your list, put it in an old shoebox and bury it in the backyard.”  She walked over to the kitchen sink, peering out past the huge maple.  “I see the perfect burial spot.”

“How’s that going to help?  Will the Parole Board release Cristian early?  Will that pay my bills, or return by life to normal again?

“No, but every time you feel miserable, look out at the dirt mound atop the box of pain, and say a little prayer.” 

Elyssa didn’t believe that such a simple act would help, but she had nothing to lose.  She hoped it might somehow relieve the tension her anger caused.  So she buried her box.

Spring came early - buds formed on rose bushes and leaves blanketed the branches.  It’d been five weeks since Elyssa visited Cristian; despair had further sapped her spirit.

One morning Elyssa starred out her window.  On the tiny mound where she’d buried her troubles, she spotted a white lily swaying in the gentle breeze.  Greek legend says that white lilies symbolize innocence.  On the tomb of those convicted of a crime they didn’t commit, a white lily grows without being planted.

Her eyes sparkled; a blissful smile warmed her soul.  Today might be a good day to gather the kids and visit Cristian.

Please God, bring Your Peace to my heart.  Help me heal from these things that cause me pain, and help me forgive all those who hurt me.  Let me dwell on the good, peaceful and remarkable blessings in my life.  Elyssa

Juice Box Runaway

“Surely the Lord is in this place . . . every place!" ~ Genesis 28:16

A curious boy of seven, Nic liked adventure books and loved exploring.  And he wanted to meet God.  

On this afternoon the skies were clear and, for the end of October, it was warm.   Nic had been earning money from odd jobs around the house – he’d saved almost $27 in an old shoe box.  He knew it was a long trip to God’s place, so Nic packed his backpack with Oreos and a few juice boxes and began his journey.  Adrenalin coursed his veins as he reached the end of his driveway.   “Ahh!  The open road,” he thought to himself.

It didn’t take long (about 8 blocks) before Nic got hungry.  So he stopped at the park for a quick break.   On the park bench, a slightly built man with wrinkled skin and steel grey eyes quietly fed some pigeons. 

Nic sat beside him and opened his knapsack.  He was about to drink from his juice box when he noticed that the man looked hungry, so he offered him an Oreo.  The man graciously accepted it and smiled back at Nic; a kind, inviting smile.  It seemed strangely familiar - the kind he imagined God to have.

Nic wanted to see it again.  So he offered him a juice box with a caring voice that invited conversation. 

Something about this boy was vaguely familiar, like he imagined his Creator – sweet, gentle and so innocent.

The two sat there all afternoon eating, smiling . . . and sharing adventures.  When the skies began fading to dusk, Nic decided to head back home.  Before he’d gone more than a few steps, he turned to the old man and traded a loving hug for the biggest, broadest smile ever.

When Nic arrived home a short time later, his mother was surprised by the ‘skip in his step.’  "What’d you do today that made you so happy?” she asked.

"I had lunch with God!"  But before his mother could respond, Nic added, "You know what?  God's got the warmest smile I've ever seen!"

Meanwhile, the old man, returned to his home blissfully joyful as well.  Confused by the look of peace on his face, his son asked," Dad, what did you do today that made you so happy?"

"I ate Oreos in the park with God."  Before his son responded, he added, "You know, he's much younger than I expected."

Too often we underestimate the power of a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest thoughtful act.  All have the potential to turn a life around.  People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.  Embrace them all with passion!

Lord Almighty, help us to know that You everywhere, all the time.  We can’t hide from You and nothing escapes Your notice.  Thank you for allowing people in our paths to lead us through the very things we need to discover.  Amen

The Greatest Teacher

“Remember, if God brings you to it, He’ll bring you through it!" ~ 2 Chronicles 16:9

Shawn arrived plenty early to familiarize herself with the classroom, locate extra books in case students ‘forgot’ theirs, find the bathrooms, and scan the bulletin boards for clues to what they’d been doing lately.  It was her first substitute teaching job - she was terrified!

Her room was next to an emergency exit.  “Good!” she thought, just in case she had to make a run for it.  The thunder of little feet broke Shawn’s focus on several sticky notes that the teacher had left for her.  Soon, twenty two uncertain faces stared back at her.

“Goo . . . ood morning,” Shawn managed to zero response, just forty four eyes following her every move.  She started questioning why she was doing this.  I’m too young; what was I thinking?  They spent the morning sizing each other up; all of them versus one unproven teacher.  Ughh!

 

 “That's not how Mrs. Peterson does it.”  These kids must be able to smell my fear, she reasoned.  “You’re doing it all wrong!” 

The boogers, various mystery stains, and the ever-grimy hand prints she collected on her new blouse nudged her closer to the ‘edge.’  By noon, she dropped them off at the cafeteria, ready to hit that emergency door running.  But she stayed; using her down-time to offer a few quick prayers and finish her sticky-notes of advice.

They returned too quickly.  “I almost wet my pants,” said one.  “Why are you still here?” quizzed another.

Back in the classroom, Shawn continued to mess up: She coughed during reading time, failed at bathroom protocol and mispronounced enough names to seal her fate.  She was a stranger in their world.  Victory was theirs!

The final sticky-note read simply 'Play movie.'  Finally!  Collapsing onto the alphabet rug, Shawn hoped that death would come quickly.  It didn't.  Instead one little girl came up, plopped herself down on Shawn’s lap.  A little boy laid his head down next to her thigh.  More came, each one finding a spot on her to lean against, lie on, or simply be near while they watched the movie.

She forgot all about gooey hands and burps and nose picking.  They sat in complete silence, perfectly calm, learning about baby animals.

“I can tie my own shoe now,” one announced proudly.  “My cat just had babies,” another shared.  “I like the way you color, are you coming back tomorrow?”

Shawn did come back the next day, and the next day and the day after that.  She worried about teaching until she got a lesson from the best educator of all . . . experience.  Sharpen the talents God gave you, what's a sundial worth in the shade?

Teacher, let me be just what they need.  Help me inspire them so that learning doesn’t end at the classroom door.  Guide them through me to love You and open my mind to the lessons they teach.  Amen

 

Sometimes You Need a Little 'Home'

“Home is where the heart is." ~ English Proverb

Today was no different than most since Rebecca entered the small private college which held within its boundaries an infinite expanse of knowledge and the keys to her future.   Today however, she sensed a nudging, almost an urgent pull to check her mailbox.  A mailbox, that usually held nothing more than dust ‘bunnies’ - a painful reminder that no one back home sat with pen to paper, filled with excitement as they started a “Dear Rebecca” letter.

The sensation grew stronger as she approached the row of antique mailboxes.

Rebecca stood before the box 4395, more afraid of it being empty than what might be inside.  Fingers trembling, she inserted the worn key and turned the latch.  Just past the smoky glass, a white envelope appeared amid the emptiness.  “Dear God, please don’t let it be another bill,” she groaned silently.

Moist eyes stared at the return address; news from home in her father’s handwriting.  She tore open the letter; her heart racing with anticipation. 

My Dearest Rebecca,

My life changed the day Mom and I found out that you were on your way. From that moment forward, you have been on my mind and in my heart – every second of every day. I’ll never forget the trip home from the hospital . . . overwhelmed by the task of protecting you from the dangers of the world.

Now that you’ve gone off to college, I’m still nervous. The perils of the world remain, but I don’t have much control.  The responsibility for your safety is now more yours than mine.

When I last hugged you goodbye, I wasn’t able to say all that I wanted to.  I love you.  I’m proud of you.  I believe in you.  I know you’re ready for life’s next phase.

Your mom and I watched you grow into your own person, and we trust you to make good choices (though we expect that you’ll make some mistakes that will help you mature).

The next four years will have a huge impact on the rest of your life.  So work hard, dream big, make good decisions – and have fun!  Let your values, your faith, and your character guide you.  Never doubt that we miss you and will always be proud of you.

Dad (aka Daddy)

She read it twice then tucked it carefully in her purse – a constant reminder of the support she’d need to cross some hurdles and eventually the finish line. 

There's just something magical about a little something from home – be it a 10-page epic written on both sides of the paper, or an amusing comic strip.  Keep those letters coming!  Start making those lemon squares.  Never lose touch!

Lord, as our children go away, we pray that they’ll be safe, make wise choices and find Your guiding light.  Help us to guide them differently, more subtly, but with the same love and inspiration You show to us as parents.  Amen

The Empty Chair

“Be strong and courageous, for the Lord will be with you wherever you go.”  ~ Joshua 1:9

Mariah stared out the big picture window of tiny apartment, playing with her wedding ring as she waited impatiently for the letter.  The baby kicked.  At first it felt like butterfly wings, then little ‘thumps’ – now it hurt sometimes.  She closed her eyes and rubbed loving circles around her tummy.  She was due in less than two weeks, and he’d become very active recently.

He settled down after a few rhythmic strokes and she began to sing softly.  She’d read that at 28 weeks, babies respond to sounds in the same way they will outside the womb; soft music slows respiratory and heart rhythms.

His letters always came on Wednesdays – this one would be special.  It would contain Trevor’s itinerary for his arrival home from Iraq.  After nearly a decade of military service, he was finally done.  Mariah wondered often how they did it – being apart so long.  They’d tried for a baby for years, but it had been difficult since he was home so infrequently.  She found out she was pregnant shortly after he’d shipped out the last time.  Today her prayers would be answered; Trevor would be home during the delivery.  Today her sacrifices would be repaid in full!

The mail arrived on schedule and she waddled to the mailbox.  The excitement was killing her.  She hurried back inside, ripped open the envelope, and whipped out the scented page.

A frown line appeared between her eyebrows and her mouth turned down at the corners.  There was but a single line on the page in Trevor’s neat handwriting:

“New orders – I can’t tell you when I’m coming home!”

She put her hand to her mouth, staring at one single sentence as tears erupted.  Why only one line?    Now he’ll miss the delivery of their first child.  She needed him more than ever now.  Damn the military!!  She slammed the letter down, then sliced herself a huge piece of the chocolate cake.  Chocolate always seemed to help! 

“Whoa there, love!”  Go easy with that knife,” a deep, beautiful male voice warned from behind her.  She turned slowly; her eyes widened to meet his.  The cake slice fell from midair, spraying crumbs all over the counter.  Mariah didn’t care, didn’t even notice.  Her soldier was home – for good.

For those blessed to be with your families, let’s never forget the homes that have an empty chair at the table.  Thank God for the brave men and women of our Armed Forces, Peace Corp volunteers and othe public servants whose sacrifices make the world a better and safer place.  And a very special prayer dear God, for those homes whose empty chair will remain forever vacant. 

Friends - Let us never forget the men and women of our armed services – those actively serving and those who have served to protect the freedoms we enjoy every day.   May their sacrifice not have been in vain.  Amen

Swinger's Diary

“Relax, and know that I am God." ~ Psalm 46:10

Emma sat on her swing, tightly gripping the ropes.  She imagined herself on a circus trapeze entertaining the audience with all sorts of death defying feats.  But at 3 years old, her feet dangle in mid air and the swing just twirled aimlessly.  It looked so easy when she watched other children.

Soon, her father came to the park.  “Daddy, give me a push!” she yells.  He stepped behind her and gave Emma a strong push – then several more.  She’s soon above the tops of the small junipers.  He smiled.  Gradually, the swing slows and Emma jumps from the seat and runs off to play on the slide and monkey bars.

Later, Emma noticed older children on the swing set.  Nobody was pushing them, yet they swing even higher.  When one finishes she asks, “Can you teach me how to swing?”  He laughed, “It’s easy.  Just swing!”  Embarrassed, she returned home, her bare feet avoiding the white clovers that bumblebees sat on.

Each time Emma returned to the playground, memories resurfaced.  Oh, how she wished she could learn to swing by herself.  One night after dinner, Emma looked at her father with adoring eyes and begged, “Daddy, will you teach me how to swing?”

He grinned and replied tenderly, “Yes, little lady.  I think it’s time you learned.”  Back at the playground, Emma listened intently to his simple instructions.  “Hang on tight and just push your feet forward, then back, forward-back, again and again.”  Soon she was gaining altitude.  “The more you push, the easier it will be, forward-back, forward-back,” he added.

She giggled, feeling the tickle in her tummy as she fell backward then forward.  Emma pumped her legs until they ached, feeling a little dizzy but extremely proud of herself.  She walked home hand-in-hand with her hero and couldn’t wait to return.

Years passed quickly.  Now a teenager, evening remained her favorite swing-time as ribbons of pink and orange clouds swirled against the setting sun.  One such evening her Dad hugged her and said, “Let’s go swing!”  She eagerly accepted the chance for his undivided attention.

He surprised her saying, “Relax, don’t pump.  Let me push you tonight.”  Quietly, he moved directly behind her.  She couldn’t see him; but she could feel his gentle hands on the top of her back.   Swinging never felt so enjoyable!  

“Emma, your life’s journey will be like swinging,” he said softly.  “Sometimes problems will seem too big to handle.  Friends may not be much help.  They may even laugh at you when you ask for help.  God won’t – He’ll give you the push you need.  The more you exercise your faith, the easier it will be to follow His directions.  Hang on tight!”

Holy Father, like the ropes of a swing, You are my lifeline.  Push me to be more like You.  By relaxing and allowing You to take over, I’ll reach heights that I never imagined on my own.  Amen