Goin' Fishin'

During the past few months, I have shared this story with three different people in an attempt to provide encouragement in the midst of a personal struggle. In the hope that someone else might find a morsel of inspiration, I thought I would share it in my blog.

Around six years ago, my daughter Michelle began having some issues that she was told could be the result of multiple sclerosis. There were a couple of more benign things that could have been the cause of her symptoms, and since MS is a difficult condition to pin down and diagnose, we hoped for the best. However, a year or so later, she was given the grim news that she definitely had the disease. I was at work when I found out – we spoke briefly on the phone just long enough for her to share the news. I promised to call her for a more in-depth talk when my shift ended.

I called her on my cell as I was leaving work, and a few miles down the road I pulled into a roadside park. Michelle told me the details; we both cried and prayed, and I tried to think of comforting Scripture to share with her. I remember that I brought up the Mercy Me song, “Jesus, Bring the Rain”, and reminded her that our purpose in life is to give Jesus glory. Finally, we hung up, and I started my car to finish my drive home. A new song was just beginning on the radio – the very one we had just talked about. That reinforced in my mind the fact that God was indeed in control. Even so, my mind was in turmoil. Michelle had faithfully served God since she was a child – why her?

When I got home, I sat at my desk and opened my Bible without looking. I told God that I needed a word from Him to help me deal with the situation. When I looked at the page, my finger was pointing to John 21:6 – “And He said unto them, Cast the net on the right side of the ship, and ye shall find. They cast therefore, and now they were not able to draw it for the multitude of fishes”. Definitely not the type of verse I was expecting to find. I thought for sure that God would use this opportunity to remind me of His ability to comfort, or some such. In my arrogance, I began to point out to the Lord what it was that I really needed to read.

I don’t remember what exactly happened, but somehow God got my attention. I read the verse again, and considered the scenario. These men had been fishing all night. No doubt they had fished on every side of the ship. They were ready to give up. Yet, when Jesus told them to cast their net on the right side of the boat and try again, they did it. And what happened? They caught fish. Lots of fish. So many fish that they couldn’t even bring them all in.

Now that God had my attention, He reminded me of His charge in Matthew 4:19 – “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men”. It began to make sense to me. Those of us who are saved have a purpose. We are to be fishermen for His kingdom. We are to cast our nets wherever He tells us to, even if it the circumstances aren’t what we expect; even if it doesn’t seem to make sense. He knows best. He knows where the fish are. Somehow, Michelle having this disease is for God’s glory. It will enable her to catch more fish for His kingdom. And that’s what it’s all about.

Michelle is still able to run 5K races!

People of Walmart...

I work at Walmart. The people who shop there have become somewhat of a legend as to being on food stamps, wearing pajamas in public, not bathing or using deodorant, not wearing supportive mammary attire, and the list just goes on. However, this blog post is about two different Walmart customers who truly touched my heart – coincidentally on the same night. Although their stories are not mine to share, I am going to share them anyway; without any names, location or other revealing information.

I work in the bakery. I am not a cake decorator – if I am not out on the floor stocking, I am in the back “kitchen” area either baking, cleaning, downstacking pallets, or pulling products out of the freezer to stock. However, when I work the closing shift, I am the only one there for a few hours, so if a customer wants something written on a pre-made cake, or if someone wishes to order a cake – I’m their woman!

The other evening, I was busy in the back when a customer approached the door with a cake in her hand. She asked if there was anyone there who could write something on it. Expecting to pen “Happy birthday” or some such, I offered my services. I was moderately surprised when the words she wanted written were “Congratulations (name) – 100 days”. I have to admit that my first thought was that this person had been sober for 100 days, which I would agree is definitely an achievement. But as I began to assemble the supplies I needed to apply the decoration, she offered me the news that this person had a bone marrow transplant, and this person’s body had accepted the new marrow for 100 days. This is pretty much considered the amount of time that patients need to worry about rejection; thus the celebration. I was moved and said a quick, silent prayer for this person’s continued recovery and health.

A bit later, as I was trying to wrap things up so that I could go on break, a lady wanted to order a cake for a child, but had problems deciding on the perfect theme. In my selfish heart, I was just wishing she would hurry up and choose one – good grief, what was so hard about just picking something?? She finally decided on one, and as I was taking the order, she asked me about a smash cake. For those unfamiliar, a smash cake is a small cake just for the baby on his or her first birthday. The child digs in with hands, or perhaps even face first; and guests enjoy taking pictures of the momentous event. Walmart offers a free smash cake with the purchase of a big cake for a first birthday. This lady explained that it was actually this child’s second birthday, but she wanted a smash cake even if she had to pay extra for it. Not being a cake decorator, I am not familiar with many of the policies, so I went back to look up pricing in one of our “cheat books”. I could not find anything listing the price of a smash cake, but this dear lady told me that she wanted one regardless. As a tear slipped down her face, she told me that on this child’s first birthday, the child had been in an abusive situation, and had not gotten a cake or celebration and she wanted to make up for it this year. I must say that it was an effort to hold back my own tears. I told her that as far as Walmart was concerned, this was a first birthday cake and that the smash cake would be free. Another prayer was silently said, for this precious child.

When I got home, I allowed myself to cry for these people. I prayed more fully for them, and also prayed that God would help me to remember not to judge my customers. No matter what store they shop at, or what they wear, all these people have their own stories to tell; their own heartaches and sorrows. And most importantly, Jesus died for each and every one of them. May I always be a witness for Him and His love, and not a self-appointed judge of people whom I don’t even know.

Awesome people shop at Walmart!

Lord, teach me to dance!

It’s happened to all of us – that awkward moment when someone near us says something and we wonder, “Were they talking to ME?” Five or six years ago, I had a similar experience while reading the Bible. The specific verse was Luke 13:12, “And when Jesus saw her, He called her to Him, and said unto her, Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity”. I was familiar with the story; had read the verse many times before. But this time, I had the eerie feeling that Jesus’ words to this lady of long ago were being spoken to me as well, over two thousand years later.

So what exactly did this mean? The lady in the scripture passage had a crippled back. What infirmities did I have that Jesus was promising to loose me from? At the time, I was a single mom. I struggled with the loss of my oldest son; with bills; with trying to finish raising some of my damaged kids; with seeing how my past mistakes had affected my older kids; with doing physical work at a job that was ultimately going to get me nowhere and other similar issues.

Of course I had fantasies of sudden wealth and a life of ease. My family and I would walk in the proverbial rose garden from that time forward. Health and happiness would abound.

Well, that didn’t happen. These years later, I have remarried, but still struggle to make ends meet. My kids are grown, but some of them are wrestling with issues in their lives. One of them is in prison. I have a different job, but it is still physical, demanding work with very few benefits. Over the years, I have reminded myself of the epiphany of Luke 13:12, although I’ve been unsure exactly what infirmities He has loosed me from.

My answer was actually found in the next verse down: “And He laid His hands on her: and immediately she was made straight, and glorified God”. I began to consider this woman. She had been bowed over for 18 years, no doubt in considerable pain. Her view of the world was limited, because her suffering prevented her from looking up. She may have been ridiculed; perhaps had no one to take care of or provide for her. She would have been considered unclean by Jewish law, because she was lame. In an instant, by one touch of the Master’s hand, her life radically changed. She could stand up straight. She could look to the heavens. She could jump. She could run. She could live a normal life, and be accepted among God’s pure people.

Naturally, her response was to glorify God. I picture this lady with her arms raised and tears of joy streaming down her face as she leapt and danced around her Healer. Who wouldn’t react in such a manner? But what if she had continued to shuffle along, hunched over and letting sorrow and defeat have the victory in her life, even after being made straight? Wasn’t that what I was doing?

What exactly had Jesus promised me? “Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity”. Was there anything about money in that promise? Anything about having no sadness or problems? No. My Lord’s promise to me was that he would take away the things that made it difficult for me to look at Him; the things that made me impure and the hopelessness that crushed my soul. He would make me stand up straight and enable me to jump for joy.

His reassurance in I Peter 5:7 explains it perfectly. “Casting all your care upon Him; for He careth for you”. I am loosed from my infirmity because I know He cares about me. He is holding me up, no matter what happens. Even when I can’t see it, He is opening doors for me. So what is my response? I will lift my hands to my blessed Redeemer and glorify Him. No longer will my burdens weigh me down – I will walk upright, leaping and twirling (not physically, of course – wouldn’t that be a sight?!). Lord, help me to embrace this reality – teach me to dance!

Snow Days

As a child, I, along with every other red-blooded American scholar, loved snow days. As an adult, I would still love them, except for the fact that I never seem to work at a location that closes during a snowstorm. Therefore, I feel obliged to risk life, limb and vehicle to arrive at my place of employment on time, and work my scheduled shift. At least in most cases. Today, with around 12” of snow having accumulated, I’m pretty sure I would have called in. Fortunately, I was blessed by being scheduled off both today and tomorrow, so I didn’t have to wrestle with the decision.

I’ve had a wonderful day – sleeping late, and sporting my fleecy Mickey Mouse pajama pants all day long. Not to worry, though – I coordinated my ensemble with the matching fleecy bathrobe! It has been ages since I’ve been this lazy, but I have enjoyed every minute of it.

When I first walked into the kitchen this morning, it felt like a deep freeze. It didn’t take long to figure out why – gusts of east wind kept blowing the dog door open, admitting the fresh winter breezes. I had no choice but to close the door off, opening it every so often to let the animals out. I literally laughed out loud standing at the window watching them in the snow. Although it didn’t take them long to trample it down, at first the two small dogs’ legs were completely buried in the snow. They looked so funny – little apods atop the fluffy white, like hens laying on a nest of eggs. I’m not sure how he did it, but Tak seemed to bounce from one spot to another – it was hilarious. Bianca did her business in a hurry and ran back inside, although a few minutes later, she scratched furiously at the door to go back out. Neo seemed totally unaffected by the weather. His thick fur insulated him from any cold or wet, and he staked out his claim to various parts of the pen, sniffed the things that needed sniffed, and did everything he usually does when he goes outside. Scamp loved every minute of it. He ran up and down the ramp to the house, kicking up a wake of snow. He tore around the pen, trying to get someone to play with him. Bianca finally obliged him, and they wrestled around for a few minutes. When they came back in, my black dogs looked like dalmatians.

I spent time praying for my kids this morning, and checking on their whereabouts and safety, especially Emily, who is a mail carrier. I remembered another snowy day about sixteen or seventeen years ago. We were living in Sugar Creek, Missouri, and I drove a white Geo Metro (one of the best cars I have ever owned, by the way…).  I was working at KCI airport, and Guy worked on Front Street, so our daily routine was that I would drive, drop him off, then head on farther north to my work. This particular morning, I started my day the way I always did – reading my Bible and praying. I felt good – ready to face the day.

As we were preparing to leave our home, Guy asked me how I felt. Somewhat surprised by the question, I told him that I felt fine. He was troubled, and said that he had a really bad feeling. I need to explain that Guy was not a worrier. He was an advocate of positive thinking, and often chided me for worrying about all the “what ifs”. He also possessed an uncanny knack for premonitions of upcoming events. I had witnessed several accounts of his “bad feelings” preceding injury or even tragic death of someone he knew. However, on this particular day, I wasn’t concerned about us going out into the bad weather. I was certain that if there was anything to worry about, God would have impressed it in my heart during my prayer time.

Guy called me several times during the day, each time a little more frantic and upset. He said he was certain that his bad feeling had something to do with me and the trip home. He spoke of visions of a crushed-beyond-recognition white car and a semi truck. I still had no bad feelings, myself, but I asked him what he wanted me to do. I told him that I would get a hotel room for the night if he preferred, or even sit in the airport all night. He didn’t know what would make him feel better, so, a little exasperated, I finally talked to him at the end of my shift and said something to the effect of, “Well, I feel fine about it, so I’m on my way to pick you up.”

I remember that I had parked in the airport garage that morning, rather than the employee parking lot. I hurried down the stairs from the terminal to my car, got in, turned the key and… click. Dead battery. What the heck? I hadn’t had any problems with the battery, hadn’t left the lights on – there was absolutely no reason it should be dead. Since this was before the era of everyone having a cell phone, I had to go back inside and use the phone at my work to call a nearby gas station, and let Guy know that I would be late. Then I had to wait for a tow truck to come and jump start my little Geo. It took an hour or so for all this to transpire.

When I finally got to Front Street to pick up my husband, he was cheerful. I asked him about his bad feeling, and he said it had suddenly stopped right after we had spoken last. I got goose bumps, and realised that the dead battery was a work of God. I was convinced that if the car had started, I would have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and would indeed have been inside the twisted wreckage that Guy had envisioned.

My feeling was confirmed even more after speaking to my mom that night. I knew she would want to know I was safely home, so I gave her a call. I remember the emotional tone in her voice when she said, “Oh, thank God!” Mom was retired at that time, and on days of inclement weather, she would pray often for family members that she knew or suspected were out on the road. She said that on this particular day, she had an especially heavy burden on her heart for me; that she had spent most of her day begging God to PLEASE keep me safe. Wow.

God has continued to be with me since that day, and given me many blessings to enjoy. My family, a warm house, a beautiful white winter world, and loving dogs who make me laugh. Yes, I’ve enjoyed my snow day today.