Discipleship

My email to home office summed up the sad situation. “I’m working from home tomorrow because I have three flat tires and need to deal with them.” I didn’t have three flats on one vehicle, but one flat on my truck, one on the tractor, and one on the flat-bed trailer. This is the kind of problem Sam always handled. It’s a shame he didn’t teach me how to change a tire. Since he didn’t, I needed help. A few days earlier, AAA came out to change the flat on the truck but, to my surprise, the spare tire didn’t fit. The man removed a large screw, the cause of the flat, and plugged the tire instead. “You should be able to get somewhere to get this tire fixed now,” he assured me. It was late afternoon, so I elected to drive to the tire store the next morning. Unfortunately, the tire was pancake-flat again within a few hours. I assumed I could fix my problems, but I was wrong. You can Google how to do anything, so I expected that time-tested technique to work again. I started with the truck tire and quickly encountered a problem. No jack in the truck. I refused to be defeated, so I hooked my small air compressor to the tire and left it for five minutes. No change on the air gauge. I repeated the five-minute timer over and over. Still no change. The air flowed out the hole in the tire as fast as the compressor pumped it in. I needed an expert. My hope of avoiding a service charge flowed out the tire hole, too, and I admitted defeat. I texted my friend who owns a tire store and she agreed to send someone out. In short order, the tire-expert rolled the jack under the truck, jacked it up, and removed the tire. He did the same with the trailer tire and headed back to the store. Before long, he returned with a repaired tire for the truck and a new one for the trailer. (I still need the tractor-tire-repairman to fix that tire.) Flattened tires and flattened lives All my efforts to restore air to my tire failed. The problem wasn’t just low air pressure. The rubber dangled from the rim. I looked at the floppy tire and thought, “I’ve felt that flattened before.” You probably know the feeling, too. Life slams you like a steamroller and leaves you so deflated it feels as if you’ll never regain normal again. An image of Ezekiel and the valley full of dried bones came to mind. (Ezekiel 37) “Can these bones live again?” God asked him. “Only you know that.” “Prophesy, Ezekiel.” So he did. The bones rattled around and came back together. Sinew connected them and skin covered them, but that wasn’t life. “Prophesy to the breath,” God told him again. Ezekiel spoke life to the bones, the breath of God flowed in, and those who were completely flattened and lifeless were fully restored. The power of words and the breath of God I felt like a bundle of tired, dried bones before. Maybe you have, too. If you’re like me, my best determination to “get over it” did little to restore zip to my step and joy to my heart. Only a God-given infusion of hope restored me and brought life. Just as Ezekiel spoke life to the bones, we, too, have the power of life in our words. We can speak words that encourage, and infuse hope, love, truth. We can help restore those who’ve been flattened by life if we will. Today, let’s look for those who are in the valley of bones, bereft of hope and the breath of God and offer the breath of God to them. Speak life and watch as hope and joy return. Death and life are in the power of the tongue, And those who love it will eat its fruit. Proverbs 18:21 You might also enjoy: Finding the Beautiful Place Called Hope Seven Steps to Regain a Heart of Gratitude It would be awesome if you’d share this post on your social media! Don’t forget to pin this pinnable image to Pinterest, too! Thanks so much. Your help extends my digital reach in amazing ways.

The question on my Facebook post is always the same. “What’s on your mind?” Today, my mind is preoccupied with how often we fail to see the big picture because we’re so caught up in the difficulties of the moment. I’m reminded of the cliche, “can’t see the forest for the trees.” Truth’s hidden within those overused words. We easily miss the beauty of the forest because we’re so focused on the trees that seem to block our path. We overlook the slight detour that can take us straight to our destination, and the power of gratitude fades from our consciousness. When our heart of gratitude fails us I’ve written about the importance of giving thanks, especially a sacrifice of thanksgiving, (Psalm 50:14) repeatedly. Recently, though, my own heart of gratitude failed me. My corneal issues have worn me out. I’m tired of checking my visual acuity every morning, of worrying when my sight isn’t as clear as I’d like. My concern keeps my eyes on the trembling tree before me instead of the beauty of the forest. I’m also deeply concerned about our culture, the propensity for violence, the widespread acceptance of carrying weapons, and the fear that drives our actions. I’m terrified of a school shooting in our area. The persecution of Christians, especially people I know and love, is yet another issue that breaks my heart. The number of nations in which open doors for the gospel are slowly closing grieves me. I’m overwhelmed with so many concerns. Giving thanks despite our concerns This morning, I sought the place of thanksgiving in the midst of my concerns. Though temporarily displaced, it’s not lost, after all. In the big scheme of eye problems, mine is relatively small. So far, my vision loss has been temporary. I can see without glasses, even when one eye is blurry. At no point has my vision been too poor for safe driving. Voice-activated software is widely available and increasingly accurate if the time comes when it is needed. God has always made a way for me to do that to which He’s called me, and He won’t stop now. Despite the issues in our culture, God is still on His throne. Both the faith community and the secular community are concerned about the issue of safety in our schools. We can work together, and we are. I’m burdened by the persecution and resistance to the Christian faith I see around the world, but Christianity has always thrived in times of adversity, and it still will. An ever-increasing desire for a vital, power-filled faith-life is present in most of the churches with which I’m familiar. Yes, there are dying churches, but there are many active, growing mission-minded churches. God is still God. The trouble in this world did not take God by surprise. Jesus Himself said we would have trouble, and we do. (John 16:33) He also offered encouragement. “I have overcome the world,” Jesus told His followers. He overcame both the trouble we face and all the ills and sin of this great big world. He can, and will, handle whatever comes our way. How to regain a heart of gratitude We can choose gratitude if we will. Here’s how: Begin with one area of concern at a time. Look for God at work in the situation. Seek points of hope in the midst of the difficulty. Choose opportunities for growth and for gaining new skills. Speak thanksgiving before you feel it. Focus on the positive, not on the negatives, in the situation. Continue to express gratitude, especially when it’s hard. If we’re discouraged and losing hope in a situation, now’s a good time to take our eyes off our situation and look to the One from whom our help comes. Turn to Jesus and thank Him for what He has, and will, do. Give thanks. Even if it’s hard. For the Kingdom of God is not just a lot of talk; it is living by God’s power. 1 Corinthians 4:20 nlt You might also enjoy:  An Early Thanksgiving Trading Grumbling for a Happy Heart When Snow Doesn’t Fall: Six Ways to Deal with the Disappointment of Unmet Expectations The Walk Down Memory Lane That Filled Me With Joy I’m honored you’ve taken the time to read this post. Would you take another moment to bless my ministry by liking and sharing on social media as well as Pinning to Pinterest? Here’s an easy image to share:

The water in my little lake has covered the pier a few times in the 28 years I’ve lived here, but seldom for as long as this winter. A week or so ago, I took the dogs outside early one morning and saw the canoe, usually on the shore next to the pier, floating on the far side of the lake, set free by the high water. I intended to rescue the canoe after work but returned home later than I expected. Then, the cornea problem flared again and directed all my attention to my eye, not to the wandering boat. When the rain resumed, I feared the amount of water dumped in a few hours would be sufficient to sink it before I could get to it. When the rain finally stopped, the canoe was nowhere to be seen. I know my vision wasn’t the best about that time, but I couldn’t see it. I suppose the canoe was so full of water that it was nearly below the surface, but not quite. Regardless, I couldn’t find it. This may not be the most beautiful prayer I’ve ever prayed, but it’s what I asked.”Lord, I sure don’t want to lose my canoe, but I’m doing all I can right now to deal with my eye. Please let it land on a high spot so I can find it when the water recedes.” An image of Noah’s ark floated through my head. By Sunday afternoon, my photophobia (pain in my eye from the sunlight) improved enough to take a long walk outside. Something silver sparkled in the light at the head of the lake. My canoe. I donned rubber boots, grabbed an oar, and snagged a feed sack from the barn for a dry seat, then hiked toward the sparkling silver. The canoe, full of water, rested on the ground a few feet from the edge of the lake. It had, indeed, landed on a high spot as the water receded. I couldn’t flip the canoe to empty the water because of the weight, and considered going back to the barn for a bucket, but decided to use the feed sack as a scoop, instead. It wasn’t a great solution because water seeped from the seams with every pass. Still, I managed to bail out most of the dirty lake water. I was nearly as wet as the canoe by the time I finally emptied it, slid it into the lake, and hopped inside. Noah’s ark came to mind again. “So this is what it was like,” I thought. The ark rested on a high spot when the water began to recede. By the time the land around it was dry, the ark was in a safe place. As I paddled, the ark took on new meaning. God answered my prayer and protected my canoe. I have no doubt of His intervention because the little boat landed in a place covered by water just a few days earlier. I was reminded, once again, of God’s great love for His children and His intimate involvement in the affairs of our lives. He knows us and cares about the things that concern us. He loves us. Today, take comfort in that great truth. He loves me. Put your name in that sentence and repeat it as often as needed. Rest in our Father’s love and enjoy the relationship with One who not only loves us but has a lovely plan for our lives. (Jer 29:11) He is working to fulfill all He desires for us.  “…Casting all your anxiety on Him, for He cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7 You might also enjoy: When Blessings Are Ours but We Refuse to Accept Them Choosing Contentment and a Grateful Heart Finding Good in the Midst of the Hard Thank you so much for your investment of time as you read this blog post. I hope it’s an encouragement to you. Would you mind doing one more thing before you leave? Please share to your social media platforms and take a moment to pin to Pinterest. That way, you can help expand my digital reach and help touch more hearts with the love of God. Thank you! I appreciate you more than you know.

The eye problems started months before but worsened over the last few weeks. My self-imposed deadlines didn’t help. I worked more than 40 hours in the first three days last week, most of that time spent on the computer. Eye strain added to the problems I already had. Thursday morning, my eyes hurt and my vision seemed blurry.  I was exhausted. The only sensible remedy was rest. In case you missed my social media post last Thursday, I chose to maintain a near-complete digital silence over the last four days. I closed my computer and left it closed. I didn’t write, send or respond to emails, or read. Instead, I rested, slept, and listened to audiobooks. I “watched” Netflix, mostly with my eyes closed. By Saturday, I felt better, so I cleaned the house, washed clothes, and dealt with clutter. Did eye strain cause my vision problems? No. Did long hours of work cause my vision problems? No. My eye problems worsened after I completed my steroid taper. Computer-related eye strain was an additional problem. Digital silence helped the eye strain, but not my cornea issues. Still, the rest was good for me, and I re-learned a few things about myself. What I learned about myself Writing is how I process life. Working long hours is neither sin nor a character flaw, especially when the work you do is what you most enjoy and to which you’re called. (A husband or children in my home would require a different priority, however.) Being still is part of the work I do. If I’m not still I can’t “hear” to write. I prefer working from home because it’s easier to be still. The period of digital silence lifted the pressure to write for a bit. Even marathon-workers need rest after the marathon ends. There’s nothing “wrong” about my lifestyle, however, this world would be a miserable place if everyone tried to adopt it. Some truth we should all remember: God has a specific plan for all of us, and it’s good. (Jer. 29:11) He knew us before we were born, knitted us together in our mothers’ wombs, and knows all the days He’s planned for us. (Psalm 139) Each of us has a specific place in the body of Christ and a specific role to fulfill. (1 Cor. 12:27-30) Each of us must recognize our own gifts, talents, abilities, and the way God wants us to use them. Fulfilling the calling of God is an act of obedience and not optional. Christ calls us to abundant, joyful living. No matter what work we do, we should find joy in it. Families matter and we must not neglect the training of children. Spouses matter and we must not neglect them, even for good works. Everyone has a vital part to play in the body of Christ, and the entire body suffers if we don’t do our part. Today, let’s seek clarity about our own God-appointed role. Are we hands that serve? The voice that teaches? The heart of compassion that comforts? The feet that go? The knees that pray? The eyes that see? How are we fulfilling our part in the body of Christ? How do we use our gifts to share the love of God in a dark and lonely world? Rest isn’t optional, but neither is serving as we were created to serve. Let’s be sure we have plenty of both. Every part of our body matters. …but speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in all aspects into Him who is the head, even Christ, from whom the whole body, being fitted and held together by what every joint supplies, according to the proper working of each individual part, causes the growth of the body for the building up of itself in love. Ephesians 4:15-16  You might also enjoy reading:  Four Reasons We Should Honor the Sabbath Today The Broke-Smartphone Blessing When You’re Too Busy to Be Still but Rest Isn’t Optional Lipstick, Life, and Leaving a Legacy that Lasts What Will Life be Like if I Do My Father’s Thanks so much for sharing your time with me by reading this post! Would you please take a moment to help extend my digital reach by sharing on social media and pinning this image to Pinterest? I appreciate your help more than you know, my awesome friend.

I didn’t expect a visit with family to make me take a long look at the short time I have left, but it did. Now, I’m wondering about my legacy and hoping something in my life will last for years to come. It happened like this: “Are you working Wednesday?” my niece messaged me. “We’re gonna be in Tupelo for the choir competition. Can you come to join us?” I had an appointment I couldn’t miss, but I managed to arrive in time to visit. My niece’s daughter looked terrific. “Great lipstick, Lindsey. I love the color. What is it?” She named a brand. “It lasts a long time,” she explained as she pulled a tube of lip color out of her backpack. “That looks like lip gloss.” She painted a little color on her hand. “You’re gonna have a mess with that lipstick on your hand,” I warned. She merely smiled. A few minutes later, she rubbed her fingertip across the color. “See, all dry. Feel it. It’s matte and really soft, too.” Of course, that led to a discussion about the brand, where to purchase it, and how much. I feigned shock at the price. “Mercy, that better last a lifetime.” My niece, who never holds back with me, said, “Oh, Anna. it’ll last your lifetime, anyway.” “Girlfriend, if I could afford that lipstick, I’d expect you to put it on for me when I’m too old to put it on for myself.” We laughed at the idea of Katie putting lipstick on me when I’m old and frail, but her words stuck with me. “It will last your lifetime.” My first response was indignant disagreement until I remembered my age. I’m not twenty-five anymore. If I want to leave a lasting legacy, I better hurry. McMillian online dictionary defines a legacy as “something…achieved that continues to exist…” Most of the time, a legacy is financial, but I want to leave something more important than money. I’d like to accomplish something that not only exists after I’m gone but also continues to make a difference. If I want to leave a positive legacy, I must live a positive-impact life. A life centered on people, not things. A life directed toward the eternal and not the temporal. I must help the least of these and live with open heart and open hands. To leave it later, I need to live it now. Love not hate. Peace not turmoil. Generosity, not greed. Hope not despair. Jesus, not the world. Perhaps we should all take a long look at our lives. Do we live with a legacy in mind? Do we accumulate stuff or consciously choose those actions which are likely to last long after we’re gone? Leave a legacy. Start today. If we want to leave a lasting difference, we must start today. Love with abandon. Give without measure. Serve without limits. Preach Jesus with our lives and use words only if we must. The Lord knows the days of the upright and blameless, and their heritage will abide forever. (Psalm 37:18 AMP) You might also enjoy: Why My Borders Need to Expand Missed Lessons and the Failure to Change Prayer and Politics: How to Pray the News and Why We Should MLK Day: On Making a Difference by Taking a Stand Your shares to social media and pins to Pinterest help extend my digital reach in amazing ways. Please share and pin. Here’s a pinnable image to get you started. Thank you!

If you have inside dogs, you know what happens when you eat something. They always want a bite. Maggie, my 8-year old Shih Tzu, is very particular. She likes cheese, meat, peanut butter, and pears. She hates spinach and tofu. Because I like both of those dreaded foods, I’ve offered them to her before. Over the years, she’s become a little suspicious of the food blessings I give. Just a bite Mamie, on the other hand, is younger and more accepting. She likes everything except spinach. If I eat it, she wants it, too. She sits next to my chair at the dinner table, wiggling all over with anticipation, and stares expectantly at me in hopes of a treat thrown her way. She just wants a bite. Breakfast smoothies don’t appeal to either dog, but zucchini bread, especially with peanut butter and banana slices, is a big hit. This morning, I opted for whole grain toast with a little smear of peanut butter for breakfast. Armed with a steaming cup of coffee and 1/2 a piece of toast in my hand, I crawled back into bed. Mamie was at my side in an instant, staring determinedly at my toast. I broke off a tiny piece and offered it. She gobbled it up and begged for more. When comfort costs us a blessing Maggie was curled at the foot of the bed. I pinched off another tiny piece of toast for her and stretched out my hand. “Hey, Maggie. You want a little bite?” She looked askance at the toast in my hand, lowered her head, and went back to sleep. Maggie missed one of her favorite treats because she was so comfortable where she was that she didn’t want to move. These dogs have heard many sermons in their young lives, and they heard another one today. “Maggie, girl, you are missing blessings because you’re too comfortable to accept them,” I told her. My words struck my own heart like a dagger. I love blessings, especially when they’re easy. The ones that aren’t so easy to receive, the ones that require an inordinate amount of effort or faith, are sometimes a struggle for me. When blessings are wrapped in hard My medical practice was only possible because of the years of effort I expended in long hours of study and training. It required much work to receive, but it was a blessing. A literary agent was only possible because of the long hours of study and training, plus more edits and rewrites than I can number, but it’s also a much-work blessing. A mission ministry was only possible because I moved out of my comfort zone and metaphorically lowered my nets on the other side, but it’s a blessing, nonetheless. Do we embrace hard blessings? This morning, I asked a hard question. Do my ongoing cornea problems contain a hard-to-receive blessing I can’t yet recognize? The answer is yes. Even in the midst of hard times, God causes all the circumstances, pleasant and unpleasant, to work together. He brings good in the midst of all the hard we face. (Romans 8:28) Today, let’s ask ourselves few pointed questions: If we’re in the midst of an agonizingly hard time, in what ways has God brought good in the midst of the difficulty? If we’re in a waiting period, is there a God-given task I’ve delayed which will bring with it a blessing once completed? How have we seen God’s faithfulness in past trials? What blessings have we received after much effort? In what areas do we need to persevere? If we welcome the easy blessings, we must also be willing to embrace the hard ones, give thanks to the Author of both, and persevere until we reach the crown God has promised. Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him. James 1:12 niv You might also enjoy reading: The Prodigal Puppy and the Rescuer Who Brought Her Home The Frost Free Faucet in the Box and the Blessing of Second Chances Living in the Shadow of the Cross and Loving Our Enemies Thank you so much for sharing your time with me. If you’ve been blessed, please take a moment to like and share on social media. I’d appreciate it if you’d also Pin to Pinterest. It helps extend my digital reach in an amazing way. Thanks!

This past weekend, I spoke at a women’s conference on Growing Your Faith. I’m not sure how I veered off topic, but at one point, I told the story of Maggie (my once-prodigal Shih Tzu) and her big adventure. The story always reminds me of the grace of God, His concern for the things that concern me, and the miraculous way He orchestrates answers to our prayers. After I returned home from the retreat last night, I snuggled with Maggie and her adopted sister, Mamie, and thanked God for the miracle of restoration He gave. The story’s still ringing in my heart, so I’ve decided to tell it again. (If you’d heard or read this before, please forgive me for repeating it.) My empty nest loomed large. The adventure began when my son was still in high school. My impending empty next loomed large in my imagination and I was worried. I couldn’t imagine how I’d cope, so I did what any sensible middle-aged mama would do. I made a plan to fill the time with “good.” A high maintenance dog seemed like a good idea. I resumed the practice of medicine, ran for alderman, and bought a high-maintenance dog.  Maggie is an 11-pound Shih Tzu who thinks she’s queen and everyone should pay homage to her.  She can dance like a ballerina, walk on her hind feet like a lady, sit, shake, high five, stay (sorta), and roll over.  She can also sneak like a spy. I think she can count to three, but maybe not. I know she can also herd cows.  (We happened on that by accident, but it’s a story for another time.) Maggie’s also one of the fastest dog-runners I’ve ever seen. She loves to run. As you can tell, Maggie is a wonderful, multi-talented dog and I’m extremely fond of her. The office manager at our medical practice bought Maggie’s sister. She was equally fond of her dog. Over the ensuing months, we referred to the two sisters often. Before long, we planned a “sister spa day” for them. We scheduled grooming appointments for both dogs and envisioned all the fun they’d have. The first trip went fairly well, but not too long after we started this, our great plan went drastically awry.  In an instant, the great plan became the great catastrophe. Aunt Judy picked up Maggie at the clinic and ferried both dogs to the vet’s office. She opened the van door and Maggie immediately saw her chance. That fur-baby jumped out the opening and began to run. Maggie raced across the street and into a field, where she ran and ran.  Suddenly, she spied another field with trees across yet another street. This particular street was one of the busiest streets in town and it was the busiest time of day. Maggie gave not a thought to the traffic since she had never seen traffic. She wanted to be in the second field, so she headed out at top speed, dragging her leash behind her. Miss Judy and the vet’s office employees chased after her, desperate to catch up. Maggie wanted to run, and she did. Maggie, who had no idea about automobiles, darted in front of a car and raced across the street. The first car slammed on the brakes, stopping exactly on the loose leash. Maggie gave a giant tug, broke free, and kept going. She didn’t want anything to keep her from the next field of fun.  As she scooted across the second lane, oncoming traffic screeched to a halt. There was a three-car pile-up. Maggie barely made it past.  She kept running.  When fun became a fiasco. Maggie made it to the second field, where she raced around and into the tree line. There was not another sign of her. By that time, I knew about the “situation” and was already at the edge of the field, praying nonstop, calling her name, and searching for my dog.  Before long, patients and their families came out to help me look. Not a sign of the little scamp. I searched for her until I finally had to return to the office to see patients, then searched again after work until dark.  Quite a few people stopped by to tell me she would be eaten by coyotes during the night. I was not comforted. It was a good thing I wasn’t a missionary back then because I had some very un-missionary thoughts about those people who resembled Job’s friends so closely. I’m still grateful I didn’t express those thoughts aloud. At last, the darkness defeated me and I went home without my Maggie baby. My mama lived with me at the time and we were both pitiful. We tried hard not to cry but did a poor job of it. Maggie’d never spent a night outside before.  She’d never been alone for more than a few hours. I imagined her cowering under a bush, cold, frightened, lonely. I felt lonely and afraid, too.  “Lord,” I prayed, “Please keep my baby safe and tell someone how to find Maggie and help them to find her.” I remembered the dire predictions about the coyotes and added, “And please don’t let the coyotes find her first.” The prodigal comes home. Just after 7 am the next morning, my friend’s husband called to say they were bringing me a dog. My first thought was, “Good grief! I only lost my dog yesterday. I’m not ready for another dog!” There was something so cheerful about his greeting that I paused and asked, “Which dog?” “Your dog,” he said.  “I’m bringing you YOUR dog!” I could hardly believe my ears. “How did you find her?” That morning, he awakened and knew how to find her, he explained.  A former pilot, he used aerial photos to examine the area. The maps showed an old shed in the woods. He and his wife drove to the spot, and she walked down the path, straight to the little shed.  Maggie was seated on an old mattress. There was no leaf litter in her fur,

[vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text]I remember her kindness like it was yesterday. The public demise of my marriage left me reeling. I was not enough. Those words echoed in my head like a litany, and I felt like a conspicuous failure. Hiding in plain sight It was only natural that I sought out the most remote, least-used restroom for a quick stop between Sunday School and church. Miss Geri soon found that same potty-place behind the kitchen, and we became “bathroom buddies.” The widow of our former pastor, she was not like any pastor’s wife I’d ever known.  Beautiful, elegant, Miss Geri had the most dashing way with clothes.  Even then, I longed to be as cool and nice as she. The gift of kindness Miss Geri was well-liked, spirited, and funny.  She never failed to remember my name, greet me with a happy smile, and ask if my “silly husband” had “gotten his mind back.”  To my sheepish, “Well, no,” she would wave her hand, laugh, and exclaim, “Pooh on him, then!”  It sounded so funny coming from this lovely older lady that I always laughed.  She patted my cheek and called me beautiful. “He must be blind and dumb,” she always said. By the time I made my way to “big church”,  I had a genuine smile. The Balm of Gilead in an unlikely place I tend to think of pastor’s wives as being doers of good deeds, and she probably did her share.  The good deeds she performed in that potty-place, though, were little known, but ones I will never forget.  Miss Geri knew my name, and she used it, every time.  She gave me acceptance when I needed it more than I can now imagine.  She offered me humor, and hope, and love.  I didn’t realize it then, but she poured out the balm of Gilead and turned that little bathroom into a chapel of healing. Eventually, she moved from our town to be closer to her children, and I missed her terribly.  A few years ago, she moved to her eternal home. I imagine heaven (admittedly too marvelous to imagine) is an even brighter, sweeter place with Miss Geri there. See a need and meet it When I grow up (which should have been a few decades ago) I want to be just like Miss Geri.  She only pretended to discover the bathroom about the same time I did, of course.  She’d been in our church for years.  It was no surprise to her.  Miss Geri saw a need, followed it into the little potty-place, and met it with such grace and kindness that it took me years to realize she had come in just for me. After she went to heaven, I wondered if there was anyone to take her place. Who follows needs into the potty-place now? Who pours out the balm of Gilead with every fiber of their being? I wish I could say it’s always me, but it’s not. Women like her are few, and far between. Kindness is a job we can all embrace, and should. Why not be the Miss Geri to those in need around us? Humor, hope, and love. The unbeatable combination brought healing in the most unlikely of places. “And be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.” Ephesians 4:32 [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_column_text] You might also enjoy reading: Choosing Contentment and a Grateful Heart Contentment Regardless of Circumstances: Why It Matters Is it Possible to Walk the Blameless Path Finding Good in the Midst of the Hard [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_column_text]Your likes and shares help extend my digital reach. When you pin to Pinterest, it also helps in amazing ways. Here’s a pinnable image. I hope you’ll take the time to pin! Thanks for your help.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column column_width_percent=”78″ position_vertical=”middle” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ shift_y_down=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/3″][vc_single_image media=”67191″ media_width_percent=”75″ media_link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fwww.leannahollis.com%2Fkindness-invaded-potty-place%2F||target:%20_blank|”][/vc_column][/vc_row]

[vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] I finished the last chart with an hour to spare before my next meeting. It left just enough time for the dry cleaners or a quick grocery run, but not both. I, of course, opted for groceries.  As soon as I grabbed my cart, I headed past the cheese and olives (two favorites) in favor of fresh produce, feverishly trying to remember what I had intended to buy in the first place. Lettuce, mushrooms, and gluten-free bread soon filled the “baby basket” part of my shopping cart. I headed to the chip aisle and I noticed a little boy in the gluten-free food section. “That’s odd,” I thought and headed over to take a closer look.  I didn’t need anything; I was just nosy. [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] The basket inspector arrives. [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] About that time, his mom appeared.  She assessed my basket with a quick glance. The produce sat atop the two sticks of peppered salami, just in case of basket inspectors, and it was a good thing it did.  She assumed from what she could see that I was a healthy eater (and I am) and gluten-free (and I am).  Based on her assumptions, she struck up a conversation about how the food you eat affects you, how bad she felt, and what food choices I thought she could make that would help her feel better and improve her health.  This lady asked for health advice on the basis of my grocery cart, or what she could SEE of it. I gave her what I thought was good advice and sneaked on over to the chip aisle When I looked at all those chip bags, I remembered that sweet lady and her cute little boy. Instead of “traditional” chips, I bought organic mixed-vegetable chips… just in case I ran into another basket inspector. [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] I inspect baskets, too. [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] I confess I’m guilty of being a basket inspector myself, and I’m not usually the one who takes note of all the healthy choices in the basket.  Sometimes I look at a basket filled with hotdogs, chips, and soft drinks and think, “I hope they are having a cookout.”  I look at a basket filled with nothing but unhealthy choices and think less charitable thoughts. Unfortunately, grocery baskets are not the only things I notice (well, inspect), and  I’m probably not the only one.  [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] What do others see when they inspect our lives? Is there hidden sin? [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] We may call ourselves “fruit inspectors”, but most of us take note of the people around us and the lives they live. For the moment, I’m not worried about the inspections I make. That’s an issue for another day. Today, I’m concerned about how well I stand up to the inspection of others. Like the salami hidden under the lettuce, we all have hidden sin in our hearts and lives that might not look quite so great on close inspection. What are we hiding in our heart where no one can see? Well-chosen grocery carts are great. My basket could stand up to any inspector (as long as I kept the salami under wraps), but I wonder if my life could do as well. Sometimes I’m impatient and downright cranky.  Other times I’m worse than that.  You don’t need my list of hidden sin… you probably have one of your own.  As I look at my life, I want to make it as presentable as the cart was… with one exception. Nothing hidden.  The Inspector who really matters sees it all anyway. [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] Why not join me in introspection? [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_column_text] Let’s all take a look at our lives and do a serious inventory.  Is there hidden sin that needs to go? How well do they stand up to close inspection?  Maybe it’s time to “ditch the salami and head to the produce.” Let’s rid ourselves of the mess in our hearts that does us no good and only ends up hurting us, and choose the things that are good and right.  Someone hopes to find an answer to their most pressing questions and they may look to you for that answer.  Get rid of the hidden sin and give them something worth seeing. Choose a life worth inspecting. “Therefore be on the alert, for you do not know which day your Lord is coming.” Matthew 24:42 nasb [/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]