Payment in 'Kind"

“Don’t do good only to those who treat you well." ~ Luke 6:33

The Thrift Shoppe was a treasure trove to Hannah.  Her eyes lit up as she entered it, greeting the volunteers like old friends.  After exchanging news with each of them her quest began.  She’d search every rack and shelf, not for herself, but with her entire extended family in mind.  She believed that clothes didn’t necessarily lose their value just because they were pre-loved.

Today she spotted a nearly-new dress that she knew her granddaughter would love.  She giggled with anticipation as she added it to her basket.  Five minutes with her sewing machine and you'd never recognize it.

Shopping for others gave her great joy.  But money was tight, so Hannah asked the store owner if he’d hold it for her until the beginning of next month.

“May I buy that dress for you?” asked the customer waiting in line directly behind her.

“Thank you, but I can’t accept such a gracious gift,” Hannah replied.

Then the total stranger explained why it was so important for her to help.

“I found myself homeless and vulnerable at 15,” she began, “when my mother died from a heroin overdose.  I slept in shelters when possible, but mostly on park benches, under bridges, and even on church steps.

One day as I sat on the frozen ground, thinking and dreaming, a group of teenagers walked by.  I watched as their eyes avoided mine.  They all walked on, chatting and laughing … all, except for one of the girls.

Bending down, she removed her jacket and handed it to me, saying “Here, you must be cold.”  Then she pulled out a twenty dollar bill from her wallet and a chocolate chip cookie from her pocket.  Handing both to me, she smiled; not a patronizing smile, but a warm, engaging one.  After she left, her warmth remained with me to this day.

“I’m no longer homeless; my situation has improved,” she continued.  “But I promised myself that I’d repay the kindness she’d shown me – as often as possible, in as many ways as possible, to as many people as possible, for the rest of my life.”

She paid for the dress.  The only payment she accepted in return was a heartfelt hug.

‘Paying it forward’ is an expression for repaying a good deed forward to others instead of back to the original benefactor.  It encourages us to reflect on the good that God has done in our lives and to pass it on to others.  Encouraging those we help to ‘pay it forward’ multiplies its goodness.

We never know what somebody‘s going through.  Sometimes all it takes to change their life’s trajectory is a kind gesture - taking one extra second to do something positive without expectancy.

Lord, help me “do all the good I can, by all the means I can, in all the ways I can, in all the places I can, at all the times I can, to all the people I can, as long as ever I can.” ~ John Wesley

One More Day

“Let love guide your life." ~ Colossians 3:14

As far as I’m concerned, few things are as adorable as sweet old couples.  How many times have you cracked a smile at a pair of cute old-timers holding hands in public?  If you’re like me, seeing love endure the test of time is not only heart-warming, it’s inspirational.

It makes me want to work that much harder on my own relationship so that my other half and I can one day rock matching canes too!  Old couples in love remind us that anything’s possible if you try hard enough.

Three times a week, my favorite octogenarians came to the pharmacy where I work to pick up their medications.  We all knew them by name.

Larry usually initiated our conversations and handled the transactions.  There was a gentle kindness in his smile.  He struck me as a person who lived how he believed others should, as if he were sunshine that radiated from only the best aspects of those he met, their flaws invisible to him.

Betty always seemed as happy as a clam at high tide.  She stood close by his side, paying careful attention to the things he said, but rarely entered the exchange herself.  Just being near him seemed to provide a serenity she couldn’t know without him near.

Never a day passed when they weren't together.  That’s why is seemed odd last week when Larry walked up to the counter by himself.

"How are you doing today, Larry?" I asked.

He told me he couldn’t be better, which was his usual reply.  I didn’t give it a second thought.

“I have 6 medications ready: 3 for you and 3 for Betty.”

He went sadly quiet … before saying, "My wife passed last night.”  Then through muffled tears: “I'm here to return the ones she wasn’t able to use."

My heart broke a little!  “I’m so sorry,” I muttered.

“Thank you,” he replied humbly.  “It was hard waking up to an empty side of the bed.  She was my wife and best friend.  Ours’s wasn’t a matter of counting the years, but making all our years count."

“I almost hate to admit, but I prayed to God that I’d live one day more than my wife.  You see Betty’s had dementia for over 20 years.  Nothing frightened me more than the thought of Betty confined to a nursing home alone.”

Larry never visited the pharmacy again.  He passed in his sleep 4 days later … just as he’d hoped; his many prayers answered.

Experts have suggested profound grief as one reason for close-coupled deaths among spouses.  I want to believe that in their case, Larry’s and Betty’s souls were so closely intertwined that they couldn’t be separated by death - a testament to the power of their love.

Lord, bless us with a sweetness of speech, a desire to work through struggles and stick to it when we’re tempted to flee, the discipline to quickly forgive and to ask for forgiveness, and a growing thankfulness for one another.  Amen

A Devoted Mother

“Children are a gift from God; His generous legacy." ~ Psalm 127:3

The moment Holly first held Casey she fell in love.  Her newborn baby smile was as sweet as a summer strawberry and filled her with a sunshine she never knew existed.

Brand new eyes peered back at a strange world after life in the womb.  Her legs kicked in a tiny jerky motion, looking for familiar resistance but finding nothing but air.

Motherhood was something Holly knew she was destined for, and those first few weeks with Casey were the best weeks of her life.  She treasured getting to know Casey and was looking forward to spending the next few months of her maternity leave together … until tragedy struck.

What started out as a strange tingling sensation progressed rapidly into severe neck pain.  Within hours, she was completely paralyzed, unable to breathe independently.

Doctors diagnosed Guillain-Barre syndrome – a potentially fatal condition where the body's own immune system attacks the nervous system.  Holly was placed on life support in the ICU.

Six weeks passed with little improvement.  Unable to talk due to a tube in her throat, she used a letter board to communicate with her family.  Depression washed in like an uninvited wave, knocking her sandcastles flat.

Casey became the brightest star in her universe.  Nurses regularly placed the infant so that the new Mom could feel close to her baby.  That tiny voice kept urging Holly to look beyond the darkness to the radiance of hope; and a promise that smiling and laughter were just around the corner.

Slowly and almost imperceptivity, Holly started moving again.  Doctors gradually increased the time she was off the ventilator until her lungs were strong enough to breathe freely.  Eventually she moved to a stroke ward to strengthen her arm muscles and fine motor skills with the goal of holding Casey again for the first time in 3 months.

And when that day finally arrived, she felt joy like never before … deeper … more intense.  Holding her baby again was akin to a spine-tingling symphony.

After 126 days in the hospital, Holly finally returned home, with a new appreciation for all the things that she could do again.  Especially a return to motherhood a devotion that shouts: “I’d rather live on my knees than die on my feet because my baby needs their mother alive.”

A mother's love for her children is no ordinary kind.  That’s the kind of love that God has for every single one of us.  His love gives us the absolute assurance that we’re never alone.  God’s love for us is unfailing and eternal.  The more we become rooted in God’s love, the more we will become happy, fruitful and fulfilled.

Dear God, thank You for the gift of this child to raise, this life to share, this mind to help mold, this body to nurture, and this spirit to enrich.  Help me, dear God, to help this precious child become all You mean them to be.  Amen

Listen From the Heart

“Answering before listening is both stupid and rude." ~ Proverbs 18:13

Meghna passed away yesterday.  Her age and the details of her death aren’t important; she’d prefer you know how she lived.

You would’ve liked her, most people did.  People often described Meghna as “charismatic” and “articulate,” adjectives often reserved for great leaders and eloquent speakers.  She had a special gift – but not the one most often credited to her.

It didn’t matter who you were.  Meghna always had a way of relating to you because, in a way, she’d been there with you all along.   She could think like you, so she understood you.  And all because she sought to understand your message – not just heard the words you spoke.  After spending even a brief period of time with her, you’d catch yourself smiling and thinking about how the world needs more people like her.

She told stories - lots of stories that contained beautiful, subtle insights and wisdom.  Here’s one of the last she told me before she died.

Many years ago I got invited to a friend’s party for her coworkers.  Not knowing a single attendee, my anxiety swelled as the party drew near.  I was in-between jobs at the time and had little to impress these aspiring business leaders.

Instead of trying to impress anyone, I decided to spend the evening simply listening to them and summarizing what they’d just said.  That night I listened carefully to everyone, responding with phrases like, “I understand what you’re saying, you feel strongly that. . .” and “Interesting, let me see if I understand what you mean …”  I avoided expressing my own opinions, even though at times it meant biting my tongue to keep from doing so.

I discovered that no one noticed or mentioned the fact that I was just listening.  Each person seemed content to talk without interruption.  After the guests left, my friend (the party’s host) told me that a number of people had made a point of telling her what a remarkable person I was.  Words like “magnetic, articulate, empathetic” were used to describe me even though I was a perfect stranger who rarely spoke.

Meghna’s final story continues to make me think … seldom do we stop just to witness, to observe, to comprehend.  Yet the power of everyday interactions is much greater than we suspect.  We have the power to offer profound healing, comfort, and affirmation, or to create deep wounds.  And all of this depends on one crucial skill: listening.

Could it be that charisma and brilliance have as much to do with how we listen as what we say? Imagine a world where people actually listen to one another, rather than just waiting for the other people to stop talking so they can offer their opinion.

Father God, help me become a much more engaged, attentive listener.  Help me hear what people are meaning to say, not what interpretation I place on their words.  Help me to listen with my heart, not just with my ears.  Amen

When Losing Becomes Winning

“The last shall be first, and the first, last.” ~ Matthew 20:16

As baseball fanatics, we celebrate game-winning plays.  But read this story to the very end.

On the last game of our season, we played under a bright sun on a cloudless, picturesque day.  A lazy breeze wafted out towards center field.

Our Cardinals hadn’t won all season.  We were down to our last out in the last inning of our last game.  But we trailed by only one run.

We had a few excellent players, but Andy just quite couldn't get the hang of the game.  When the umpire yelled, "Batter up!" Andy nearly jumped out of his skin.  Painfully shy, the eight-year old hadn’t hit the ball all season (or catch it for that matter).

With two outs, it was his turn to bat.

Andy swallowed the lump in his throat and looked out at the mound.  The pitcher, who seemed to be several feet taller than him, stood impatiently on the mound with a gloved hand on his hip.

A roar came from about a dozen parents watching from camp chairs when Andy popped a bloop-single that barely cleared the second baseman's reach and landed in short right field.  Safe at first base, he grinned like a possum with a sweet potato as his Dad waved from the stands.

Our next batter was the team’s best slugger.  We fully expected him to blast something deep; maybe even clear the outfield fence.  Finally, we might even win a game.

He didn't let us down.  After taking two inside pitches, he connected a line shot headed towards right field.  With a good jump off first base, Andy saw the ball coming toward him.  In a moment of indecision, he caught it barehanded.

“If a runner intentionally touches a live ball, interference is called, the ball is dead and the runner's out.”  Rule 5.06(c)(6)

Final out.  Game over.  We lost!

Andy clutched the ball, beaming like never before.  It never occurred to him that he lost the game for us.  All he knew was he’d hit the ball and caught it - both for the first time.

Quickly, Coach told us to cheer.

As was customary whether we won or lost, Coach treated us to ice cream after the game.  We gathered as a team for the final time.  What I saw would forever tickle my heart.

There stood Andy, surrounded by our teammates, acting out his big hit with such enthusiasm that I imagined it must’ve been someone else.  Gone was the shy, scared 8-year old … at least for now.

We never told him exactly what happened.  We didn't want to ruin it for him.  Sometimes it’s better to lose and do the right thing.

Lord, make me truthful, honest, and honorable in all things.  Show me the ability to be charitable, forgiving, and patient with others.  Help me to accept and appreciate their shortcomings, even as they understand mine.  Amen

Fire and Rage

“Never fear, for I am always with you; I am your God." ~ Isaiah 41:10

In the summer of his 7^th year, the home Chase had grown up in burned to the ground in the middle of the night.  Luckily everyone escaped … in nothing but their pajamas.

They returned the next morning to find their home resembled something out of a horror movie; twisted plastic and burnt ashes, nothing had escaped the inferno.  The charred remains of their house stood hollow as the soul of a skeleton.

It had been so alive, so vibrant.  Inside had been a place of love and security, a place with memories and warmth.  Gone were his favorite books, his baseball glove (and the trophy from last season), even his laptop.

He sucked at air that’d almost become too difficult to breathe.  He wanted to smash something – but there was nothing left to break.  Normally in times of stress, he’d jam in his earbuds and drown everything out.  Instead he went straight at Mom; kicking and pummeling.

Finally he screamed!  It had a primal intensity that told of urgency and desperation; the raw sound of a child in emotional pain.  When his Dad tried consoling him, Chase fell to the ground crying, pleading with God to help his family.

He looked up to see tears in Dad’s eyes too.  “It’s OK buddy,” he said in a reassuring voice.  “Even though we’re sad, things will get better.  We’ll get through this together.”

Chase stood up and turned to face a gathering crowd.

But these weren’t gawkers … but the faces of friends, church members, and a community who arrived with support to help them get back on their feet.  A neighbor offered the use of an empty rental house they owned a few blocks over for “as long as they needed.”

While their home still smoldered, a local business was established as a drop-off spot for donations.  Dad received checks and cash right there on the spot.  Neighbors they barely knew, offered furniture, clothes, and even toys and books for the children.  Over the weeks that followed, others called, sent care packages and wrote loving cards and emails.

Meanwhile Dad had returned to blackened wreckage to see what he could salvage.  The only thing he found was Mom’s wedding rings.  The plastic case she’d put them in that night had melted around them and shielded them from the flames.

It took Chase a while but he finally understood that God had answered his prayer.  He’d watched over and helped his family through the loving hearts of those around them.  God revealed that when you have nothing left but love … you see that love is enough.

Friends, may you always have “Enough” for all the days of your life.

Thank You Lord, for the many people I’ve met on this life’s journey.  Some of them inspire, me stretch me, challenge me, love me and encourage me.  They all help me to realize how meaningful and wonderful my life is.  Please grant their prayers too.   Amen

A Lesson For the Ages

“Forgive one another, just as God forgave you." ~ Ephesians 4:32

The small shop sold snacks, drinks, and other convenience items on the same corner for over five decades.  But lately, it’d become a magnet for local petty thieves.

Its longtime owner, Margie, sat unremarkably behind the counter reading cheesy romance novels when business dragged.  She wasn’t the kind you’d pity with her old bones and feeble limbs, but the kind who could still run an army kitchen given a chance.  Always quick with a joke, Margie knew most customers by name and treated all her visitors with equal respect.

Danny and his friend Miguel had it down to a science.  They’d search for stores where the shelves were lined up in such a way that it was difficult for the cahier to watch them.

They always went in pairs.  Miguel would take his time preparing a Slurpee from the drinks counter while Danny would stuff a backpack full of “saleable” goods that they could sell after school.  They even nicknamed their practice "finger-painting," a combination of having quick fingers and being caught red-handed.  After pilfering several desired items, they’d leave a store giggling and exchanging rebellious glances of teenage arrogance.

Today they weren't nearly as clever as they thought.

When Marge noticed the unfamiliar kids stealing, she didn’t panic.  She simply went over the counter and locked the front door.  Obviously, they hadn’t intended to pay for the ill-gotten gains.  It became equally apparent that they weren’t going anywhere.

Margie’s piercing eyes settled on them.  “Seems to me you have but two choices,” she began.  “You can wait for the cops to take you into custody, or you can put all the stuff back on the shelves.”

Their confidence retreated like a rollercoaster falling backwards.  Clearly not what they’d expected, the boys quickly did as she requested.

They were nearly finished when the police arrived.  Margie unlocked the door and explained that everything had been taken care; no need for their assistance, and went back to her reading.

How quickly most of us would seek punishment for those who commit a crime like larceny.  If we look deeper, however, we just might see people that simply need to be shown the right path.

Compassion isn't always easy, but we're all on this earth together, so we can't just help those that keep good behavior.  Kids who commit such crimes are often some of those that need help with the most basic spiritual and human principles, such as right and wrong.

Sure, we need to keep order and hold others accountable for misbehaviors.  But sometimes less is more … a good, kind example is more effective than harsh punishment.  Certainly, Christ was more effective by preaching responsible behavior than responding to irresponsible conduct.

Forgiving Lord, Your mercy flows to me in spite of my faults and failures.  If I can be forgiven, so can others. Help me demonstrate that kind of love even to those who disappoint and hurt me.  Amen

Happy Tails

“Trust in the Lord forever; He will always protect you." ~ Isaiah 26:4

They say that a dog is “man’s best friend.”  But sometimes dogs need a best friend of their own.

Meet Girard, an aging golden retriever who was blinded with cataracts from birth.  He also had a debilitating seizure disorder.  His owner, a man whose skin was so thin that his heart shined right through, cared for the old dog without regret.  By all accounts, Girard had a wonderful life.

Then his owned died … and his world turned inside out.  Without his human buddy, Girard fell into a deepening state of anxiety.  The panic he felt from not having his owner’s help, his presence, and his companionship intensified his seizure problems.

In fact, the shelter vet recommended Girard be euthanized.  Older dogs with disabilities rarely adjust to new environments.  It’s cruel for dogs like that to live such stress-ridden lives.

That all changed when he crossed paths with a one-year-old black lab mix named Bojangles in the exercise yard.  Bojo had been shot before finding her way to the animal shelter, so she had her own set of behavioral and trust issues.

Dogs have uncanny observation skills.  Bojo sensed that there was something different about Girard; something that left him approachable yet vulnerable.

The two bonded almost immediately.  Noting the dogs’ special connection, staff members began boarding the two together.

As a result, both showed worlds of improvement.  After only a few weeks, Girard’s seizures diminished in both frequency and severity.  The task of caring for his pal had, in turn, made Bojo far less skittish.

There are many myths about dogs and countless surprising truths.  It's times like these that we all wish that dogs could talk to us.  But dog lovers know intuitively what's going on in their minds.

Two dogs who were both incomplete now make each other whole.  Bojo instinctively guides and protects her new best friend through life as a Seeing Eye dog … for a dog.  Bojo is gaining new confidence and warmth.  They learn and lean on each other.

The two were adopted together by a loving couple who understood their special relationship.

As the song says, “We all need somebody to lean on.”  We’re not as self-reliant as we may at times believe.  Everyone is dependent on someone or something, whether he is poor and needy or seemingly “healthy and wealthy.”  Ultimately we must understand that God’s the one in control and come to learn that we should depend on His guidance and leading.

How’re you doing?  Are you leaning on God, or are you handling life on your own?   If you think you're doing pretty well managing your life without God, watch out.  It can all come crashing down in an instant.  Keep Him close … always.

“I love you.  Passionately.  Irrevocably.  Shamelessly.  Undeniably. Completely.  I won't leave you.  Lean in.  I will make a way for you.  I am here.  With you.  Even in your woundedness, Jesus still loves you.  And so do I. ~ God

But God

“We live by faith, not by sight.” ~ 2 Corinthians 5:7

Headstrong and foolish, Don set out duck hunting without telling anyone that he’d be going to a place he’d never tried before.  Nearly as asinine, he left his cell phone at home.

After settling into his blind, he gripped his gun barrel to clear away some reeds.  He’d learn later that the gunsmith who repaired his shotgun accidently cross-threaded the screw holding the stock to the rest of the gun.  The weapon broke in half when those two mistakes collided.

Dazed and confused, Don slowly realized that he'd shot a hole in his side the size of a plum.  He managed a quick prayer: “God, I'm going to need a little help!”  As he lay there dying, a thick fog smothered the setting sun.

All alone.  Excruciating pain.  Nobody knew where he was … but God.

It was nearly midnight when wife Brenda became anxious about his absence and called a friend who told her that he’d declined an invitation from Don to go hunting.  But he had no idea where.

They organized a search team and drove to a remote spot where the two had hunted before but got lost in the dark.  Scanning the unfamiliar territory they spied the slight reflection of Don’s windshield.  They reached him barely alive; on the verge of hypothermia.

Thirsty from his lengthy ordeal, Don asked for drink.  One of the rescuers offered some grape juice but was unable to open the bottle.  If but for God, Don would’ve likely died in surgery had he swallowed that juice.

The thick fog parted not once but twice for the rescue helicopter to land.  There’s literally no explanation for Don making it to hospital in time, was patched up and able to walk again, but God.

A missionary surgeon, who gained prominence repairing gunshot wounds and worked at that hospital only 1 in every 8 weekends, just happened to be working that night.  The doctor removed a full load, 120 BB’s, from Don’s side.  Had any become dislodged, he could’ve bled to death.

Modern day miracle, or just a great bit of luck?

I don’t really know.  But when I read about a bus driver who happened to put a Bible right in the place where a thug would fire his gun, it tips the scale for me.  It’s a “God Thing” – circumstances that’re nearly impossible to explain, but for God.  Some are almost imperceptible to all but the recipient.  For others like Don, they’re life-changing.

I don’t know why miracles happen to some people and not others.  I don’t know why some miracles result in life while others are found in death.  But I do know it glorifies God when I can’t do something, but He can.

Father God, I’m lonely without You, adrift on a sea of indecision.  I need to speak with You today as an intimate friend - to share my heart, my desires, my fears, and my pain.  I promise to seek You with all that I am, Amen

The Cuddlers

“Anyone who refreshes others will be refreshed." ~ Proverbs 11:25

In an instant, Teri was transported back in time.  She felt the beat of a rhythmic heart and gentle voices muffled by the protective walls of her mother’s womb.

Thrust into life at just 29 weeks gestation, Teri weighed just over 2½ pounds; kept alive in critical condition by machines, medications and a dedicated hospital staff.  Unfamiliar voices, harsh sounds, and bright lights characterized her strange new world.

This dream had occurred before – vivid, emotive, real!

During the earliest days, behavior was her only form of communication.  When stressed or unhappy, Teri covered her face, spit up, or even stopped breathing.

She loved the sound of her mother’s voice best, but any soothing pitch seemed equally reassuring especially when someone sang a lullaby or read a book.  Soft music helped the transition between sleep cycles.

Preemie’s eyes take longer to mature than their hearing, so in the beginning, she spent only brief periods of time with her eyes open and only in dim light.  Faces were Teri’s favorite!

Like most newborns, she had difficulty handling multiple stimuli at once – like trying to listen or focus while feeding.  Confusion and frustration usually followed overstimulation.

For Teri, the fondest memory of her dream was snuggle-time at about 4 pounds.  Feeling Dad’s arms wrapped around her brought hope for the future.  In Mom’s embrace she started believing that there was nothing to fear, that everything was sunshine, aromatic flowers, and kind people.  Cuddles were the only medicine she needed; a friendly star in an otherwise lonely universe.

Busy hospital sounds jolted Teri back to reality ... daydream over.

She gazed down at a docile preemie nestled against her chest, fingers curled into the fabric just enough to reassure him they were together in this odd place.  She felt his warmth seeping into her heart and kissed his tiny scalp with a grateful tear.

For the next 30 minutes, Teri lightly rocked him while reading the children's book, "Corduroy" and then singing "You are My Sunshine."  Before she left she offered a prayer asking the “Giver of Life” to bless this sweet child with the strength to stay alive and grace for a loving and fruitful life.

Love always seems in short supply.  Luckily, there are special volunteers offering up theirs to the tiniest who need it most.  Teri had come full circle – as one once cuddled in the NICU and now as a volunteer “Cuddler.”

Cuddler’s give parents some peace of mind that when they’re not able to be present, their babies are in loving hands and not alone.  And for babies exposed to opioids during gestation, cuddling helps them battle the toughest moments of their young lives - withdrawal.

A newborns’ initial ability only to receive highlights for me how potent is the joy of giving.

"I thank You, Lord as a volunteer, for the chance to serve another year.  And to give of myself in some small way, to those not blessed as I each day.”

 ~ A Volunteer’s Prayer, Pulpit Helps, August 1992