20/20

In hindsight, I could kick myself.  In fact, upon chatting with my old friend, I asked him to go ahead and kick me now.  Sigh.  Why is hindsight so vivid?  And why could I not have had it to begin with?

There’s a fine line between being a busybody and a concerned soul. The trick is knowing which side of that line to cross.

A discerning heart and spirit are required to be effective soldiers in the army of God.  And also, a willing attitude is crucial if one is to be successful in warring against the flesh.  

Here’s what went on in summation.  Many months ago I attended the visitation of a young man who died because of a drug overdose.  While waiting in the lobby to go into the receiving line--which I really dreaded because I did not personally know this fella and was only there to pay my respects to his grandmother--a former neighbor of mine came in.  After the initial greetings and small talk, we got a little more personal.  She told me of some of her regrets about not living in our ’hood anymore and there was...something. Something more than just the wistful reminisces about simpler times. Something more than the way her eyes clouded up as she began to explain how her life was before...before...before him.

Looking back, I wish I had asked.  Wish I had skipped the receiving line and asked her if she’d like to go sit and chat further.  Wish I had followed up with her because yes, I do have a discerning spirit often but...but this woman was not a friend of mine.  Former neighbor, sure, but our paths rarely crossed.  I knew her child to an extent but really:  I had no clues about this lady and who she was.  And sure, we had some mutual acquaintances that we conversed about.  But really, what business of mine was it to delve deeper and become potentially involved in something that didn’t concern me?  After all, I was already in an uncomfortable spot, trying to figure out what words of sympathy I could offer to my friend about the tragedy she was going through.  If I reached out to this woman with more than the casual hug we had exchanged, what might I be opening myself up to?  Maybe I was just being overdramatic.  Right? Maybe that look in her eye was just the sorrow for the young man lying inside. Besides, if she needed me, she knew where I lived.  I wasn't the one who moved. Right?

So, about that kick.  I’ll bet you’d like to give me one too about now, huh?

To wrap this story up, it turns out that that woman, that lady, that neighbor was indeed in a mess.  Her life was more troubled than the world knew because she had to keep up appearances.  Her soul was tortured on a daily basis and she literally had to flee for her life, for her sanity, for her self.  

What if I had taken just a little more time with her those months ago?  Could I have made a difference?  Would her circumstances have had a happier ending?  Or would I just have been labeled as a nosy bat, someone whose nose would be better placed anywhere other than in her business?  

I won’t know those answers.  My bifocals don’t allow me to go back in time and change those moments when something is off but I wasn’t in tune enough to hear the sad melody being played.  

Sigh.

Let’s pray.

Dear Lord, my soul is troubled.  My heart is aching in places that I didn’t even realize were active for this woman who has been and is still going through so much tragedy.  

Is it too late, Lord?  Is it too late to extend my offer of help?  To let my arms reach out, to lend her my ears, to cry with her through eyes that were blinded?  

Jesus, You went to Mary and Martha after the loss of their brother.  Not before but after.  The comfort You gave to them; the hearing of their words of reprimand and sorrow as they mourned the loss of Lazarus; and the recriminations of if had You been there things would have been different rang loudly.  The difference is Lord, they sent for You.  This woman has not asked for me but...but maybe she doesn’t know how.  Maybe she is too alone in her grief or perhaps she has others to assist her?  I don’t know and I won’t until I ask.  Will You help me to be You to her?  To offer comfort, to let her pain out, to be her friend?  

I don’t even know if I should try, Lord!  If the situations were reversed, how would I feel about someone like me intruding in my time of sorrow?  Would I welcome it or would I shun it?  Oh Father!  This is so hard!  Meddler or helper?  Busybody or somebody:  somebody who knows what it’s like to hurt, to be victimized, to be considered as the bad one?  Sigh.  

I lift my eyes to You, Lord.  Help me, please, in the name of Christ I pray.  Amen.

Letters From Home (less)

A little while back--after feeling frustrated each time some homeless soul asked for our help and us not having anything handy to give--Steve and I prepared some “homeless bags” so that we’d be prepared for the next time.  We filled ziploc bags with goodies, cleaning things, one little Bible verse card, and thought we were ready.  However, the more we thought about it, the more things we would add:  a pair of socks, a little bit of cash and four quarters, band aids, and--one of my personal favorites--one of those little tea lights that are battery operated.  After all, the double entendre was too good to pass up:  light for dark nights and for us shining light on our fellow man.  Ooh, yes, go ahead and pat us on the backs the next time that you see us.  We are just such good Christian folks.

{Pardon me while I choke}

As the bags sat on our table, ready to be dispersed, I had one last idea to really make the bags complete.  “Let’s put a stamped post card and pen in there.  That way, should they so desire, they can send their loved ones a note letting them know how they are.”  Brilliant, if I do say so myself.  

Anyways, this blog could go lots of ways but I want to hear from you today.  I know a lot of my readers are also writers so I want to give you all the opportunity to let your creative juices flow today.  Here’s your assignment:  imagine you are the homeless soul.  You are sitting there as you chew on your raisins and wondering just what kind of person puts a postcard--a postcard of all things!!--in a bag like this.  As you wash away your food with the last drag of water, you continue to ponder this card.  It’s already stamped and nothing on it will give away your whereabouts except the postmark.  That is, if you even use it.  

You roll the pen between your fingers.  Your mind is already thinking whom you’d like to send a note to.  That soul’s address is imprinted on your brain.  Do you dare?  What would you say?  There’s only room for a few lines.  

Taking a deep breath, you sigh.  The decision has been made.  Consider your words carefully, for again, there’s only space for a few of them.  Breathe.

“Okay,” you decide, and pick up the pen.  "Here goes."

Now, Wandering Through The Bible readers, write.  You can send them privately if you like but I think it will be quite interesting to see what you all come up with.   Ready?  Put yourself in place of the homeless one.  Who would you write to?  How much information would you include?  What would you say?  I can’t wait to read you today!

How You Doin'?

If you’re an avid television watcher, you probably have watched several episodes of “Friends.”  Between Ross, Rachel, Monica, Chandler, Phoebe, and the oh-so-lovable Joey, many of us would spend our Thursday evenings with this group and imagine that we too had a special affinity with our own circle of peeps.

One of the most quoted lines from “Friends” would have to be Joey’s “How you doin’?”  These words would be uttered to women he found attractive and wanted to get to know better.  Usually they were combined with an interested smile and twinkle in Joey’s eyes.  The effect could be devastating or disastrous, depending on what the writers of the show were striving for in that episode.

Yesterday, I met my own Joey.  Sort of.  Okay, he really wasn’t anything like Joey except for his concern for his fellow man.  As our buggies met in the crafting aisle at Walmart, he immediately caught my attention.  Talk about a cutie!  Of course I had to initiate a conversation and I’ll summarize it here (otherwise this blog would get too wordy and we wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?).

“Hello!  You sure are cute” I said.  “Are you getting that so you can paint some rocks?”  

He responded and then he asked me how I was.  I told him I was a little sleepy after having had lunch just a bit ago and wondered if he liked to take naps too.  Oh, now before your minds start going places they shouldn’t, let me clarify something:  this handsome fella was all of eighteen.  Months, that is.  Ha ha!  Got you!  Shame on you for thinking such illicit thoughts!

Anyway, as is customary for us Southerners, I returned his question to him and asked him how he was?  His response?  “I’m doin’.”

I’m doin’?!

What kind of response was that?  I wondered.  I pondered.  And then I appreciated.  After all, there was no pretense there.  No social niceties of saying that of course, I’m fine, while internally lying and hoping no one notices the falseness of the reply.  No whining, either, about how awful his life was, how his parents wouldn’t buy him this, nor that he felt like that.  Just two simple words:  I’m doin’.

He taught me a lesson.  Keep it simple.  Stick to the facts.  When someone asks about you and you don’t want to lie, don’t want attention, and don’t want pity, just use these words.  Because, quite frankly, sometimes that’s all that we are really capable of, isn’t it?  To just do.  To just be.  To just keep putting one foot in front of the other.  To stand when we are at our wits’ ends but still believing that somehow, somewhere, Someone is not going to let us fall.  

Thank You, Lord, for kids.  Thank You for simple truths that have such profound effects on my daily walk.  Thank You for keeping me upright and fixed when my eyes stay on You.  I’m doin’, Father.  I’m trying to do what You called me to do and yes, there are happy times when all seems well and sometimes there are sad times when I need all the help I can get but refuse to ask for.  

Thank You for providing others in my life for times when I need a little extra.  May I be a Joey, Lord, as I endeavor to befriend my fellow man and genuinely care about the responses to when I question about others’ well- being?  I want to be.  I want to be a doer, Father.  Will You help me?  I ask these things in the name of Christ Jesus, Who already did it all.  Amen.  

My Morning Prayer

Who has woe? Who has sorrow? Who has contentions? Who has complaining? Who has wounds without cause? Who has redness of eyes?

Proverbs 23:29

Good morning, Lord Jesus!

I haven’t a clue what today will bring forth.  I know my plans:  get things ready for an afternoon cookout; go to church in a little while; rest once the company has filled their bellies and stayed as long as they wanted to; watch the Cowboys play football; order those free prints from Amazon; maybe make some mustard jars if the postman brings my promised delivery today. Depending on how these things go will determine if we attend church later tonight.

Those are my plans, Lord.  Do they line up with Your will for me?  Ordinary events.  How can You use me to make them EXTRAordinary, EXTRA special, EXTRA meaningful?  I’m listening.  I’m being still.

Please bless my time with my church family and my real family today.  I mean, they are all my real family.  May I not show favor to some and not all today is my desire.  May I not esteem one over another.  That hurts when that happens, Lord.  Please don’t let me hurt today is my prayer.

It’s Much Easier If You’ll Just Cooperate

It’s Much Easier If You’ll Just Cooperate

Ahh.  What a busy day I have planned.  I’m going to Brenda’s to make cards with her and Karen.  I need to go to the post office and mail a Pay-It-Forward gift to Roberta.  Fair Value is also on my list since it’s time to get some groceries and a gift card for a special someone’s 89th birthday.  Then there’s all this stuff on my desk, screaming to be completed as I have been purposely trying to do.  And I have a study to complete, clothes to launder, dishes to wash…

Speaking of screaming, huh?  

Does it ever end?  Does this cycle of trying to get everything done in its proper time ever really be fulfilled?  

Meanwhile, there’s this still, small whisper.  Be still.  Be still and know.  

Okay, Lord.  You’ve got my attention.

Sort of.

You see, last night on the way home from a bonus date night (which included some ever-so-delightful meats from JD’s!), Steve and I were talking about church and the Bible and...don’t laugh, but we were also discussing one of our favorite movies, “Dumb and Dumber.”  For you see, there’s this one scene that epitomizes that cooperating is easier than fighting.  Here’s the link to it so you can see for yourselves:  https://youtu.be/m-HmvPr7mG0

I hope you laughed, as we did, when you watched this.  Does it remind you of how you too fight against the pricks (no offense, Jim!) that threaten to overtake you when if you’d just cooperate, when if you’d just be still instead, you might not have to suffer so?  Dare I say you might not have to die in this condition?  I think I do!  Gotta watch out for that rat poison, you know.

In conclusion, friends, stop.  Stop it--whatever “it” is--and just be still for a few minutes.  Remember Who is in control (and I can assure you--contrary to what you think--it is not you).  Remember Whose you are.  Let Him whisper to you this moment.  Cast your cares on Christ and let go.  Rest.  Be still.

Let’s pray!

Dear Father,

Pause.

Sigh.

My head is full of so many thoughts and squirrels are wreaking havoc in my mind.  It’s maddening, Lord, how when I try to take my own advice, the rabbits continue frolicking about in my tiny little brain, refusing to allow me just a moment--just one peaceful moment--of quiet.  How I need You to quiet me, Father!

Deep breath.  

Again.  In.  And out.  

Focus Stef.  Purpose Stef.  Breathe.  Let the clatter stop and just...just breathe.  Hear that clock ticking in the background? Those are precious seconds you will never get back.  Instead of thinking of what isn’t getting done while you’re being still, think of what is being let go of.  

Better, now?  

Yes!  

Thank You, Lord God.  Thank You for that moment.  Thank You for peace.  I love You!  

As I take one last moment of solace, Father, the thoughts are already trying to intrude again.  Bless my plans today, please?  May the time spent with my friends be joyful.  The groceries and goodies I buy?  Show me the ones that are most needed.  Mostly though, Lord, as that clock continues ticking, remind me to use my time wisely and to spend more of it with You.  That’s where my hope comes from.  May it be so, in the name of Christ Jesus, I ask.  Amen.

On This Day

On This Day

I really love Facebook.  Don’t you?  I mean, seriously, where else can we go to keep up with one another, find the best recipes, see pictures of near and far-off places, peoples, and cartoons/memes of any subject under the sun?  Not to mention the groups we can join (no membership fee required), the chat rooms we can converse in, and we also have a place to record our life events for all the world to see--or for just a few select ones, should that be our desire.

One of Facebook’s perks is often a double-edged sword for me.  It’s the feature known as “On This Day.”  For those not familiar with it, what it does is capture the moments from today’s date and highlights them for each year that one was on Facebook.  Oh the walks down Memory Lane I take each morning!  Some cause me to smile and reminisce over past glories while others make me melancholy for hurts that haven’t quite healed.  Some leave me laughing while others have me scratching my head.  Often, as today’s reflections were, I get a little of both.

Apparently in 2014, I wrote a blog about mistaken identity.  It was good (even if I do say so myself) and I recollected the feelings evoked as I read over the words about making a name for one’s self.  How I wanted to be known as a child of God and have His characteristics flow unmistakably through me!  I still do.  For you see, whether we personally can see them or if instead someone has to point them out to us, we all have a certain something that reminds folks of another soul.  Often I have been confused with someone else and in my blog I joked about a few of those times and concluded with this paragraph:

Long story short, each of us is labeled and/or associated with some type of person. Artists, jocks, families, funny people, or what have you: we all leave a mark. We all can be confused with another, as my sister Mary and I often were because we favored in looks. But the group I most want to be associated with, the Person I most want to be known as being related to, and the attributes I most wish to emulate are those of the family of God. I want to be instantly recognizable as a child of God, as one who smiles and offers acceptance, as one whose qualities could come no other way except by inheritance, by being born with the traits and elements of Jesus Christ. If I am to be confused with someone else, may it be as a person of light so that when the truth comes out and my real identity is known, I will have found favor with those whom I come in contact with, and may I leave a sweet savor behind so that even though I was not whom they thought, I was still someone they were glad they just met.

Imagine then, to my chagrin, as I scrolled further down the On This Day page and saw a notification I had posted about funeral arrangements for a man that for the life of me I could not remember whom he was.  I was appalled!  He passed seven years ago and sure, my memories aren’t what they used to be but still...Still, how could he have mattered so much then and not be even a faint memory now?  I internally shuddered.

In conclusion, I was able to investigate and discover who this man was (a former colleague of mine that at the time made a great impression on me and so many others).  However, to not know him now?  To not automatically have his face and personality come to mind saddened me.  I wondered about my own legacy.  Who will remember me when I am gone?  Who will smile longingly at my picture and recall the good times or will I just be the one who folks puzzle over as they repeat my name over and over, trying to jog some link to it?  Thankfully, once we all reach Glory, we won’t have temporary amnesia and we will know--we will know each other fully.  We will rejoice in the creatures God turned us into as we perhaps laugh over past times and see how He worked in us even then.  Even now.  

On this day, friends, may we shine for Jesus, love as He loves, and glorify Him above all.  That’s our purpose and reasonable sacrifice.  And the best part is that it’s not even a hard task to complete.  Let’s finish well, shall we?

In a Still Small Voice He Speaks

September 8, 2017

Good morning.  There sure seems to be a lot of “natural disasters” going on today, huh?  Fires in the west.  Hurricanes in the southeast.  Earthquakes in Mexico.  

I saw the other day that with all of these things going on, it appeared as though God was trying to get our attention.  It gave me pause, as I considered how the Bible teaches that God speaks in a still, small voice.  “Hmn.”  I wondered.  “How many people are listening for His voice instead of trying to put Him into some man-made model of whom they presume my Lord to be?”

We all have our own visions and assumptions of what we think God’s attributes are and if He was this then such and such.  Or if God was that then blah blah blah.  The thing is though, friends, it doesn’t matter what we think.  What matters is that He is.  Somehow we keep forgetting that we are here for His pleasure and not the other way around.

That being said, these weather events going on have gotten many people’s attention.  It’s great to see Texans and other Americans pulling together as they seek survival and put aside petty differences.  I’m sure that many are reconsidering a lot of things as their lives become more focused on internal rather than material possessions.  What I want to leave you with though is this:  with all of the chaos going on, would you please take a moment to be still?  A moment to listen--not to nature but to the Creator of the world?  Many of you who read this blog regularly know that I am in the process of doing the study by Lysa TerKeurst Uninvited.  The other night she brought out a point in one of the video sessions about the word “terrified.”  Its meaning in Mark 6:50 is explained by Lysa as “tarasso, which means to set in motion what needs to remain still.”  She went on to tell how too often we “innocently” start something that leads to something else and on to another event and before one realizes it, it has snowballed into something that never should have been.  Consequences for “one little thing” can have tremendous repercussions that one may not ever recover from.

In closing, I again ask you to be still.  Ponder what is going on in the world, surely, but more importantly, consider what is going on in your heart that God is speaking to you about.  It could be He uses a hurricane to get your attention but then again, as evidenced in the life of Elijah-- and to the nations of the world as when He said in Psalm 46:10 “Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.”--probably not.  

Let’s pray!

Dear Lord, settle us today, I ask.  Still us.  Speak to us.  Refine us and make us more like Jesus is my prayer.  This life is not about what You can do to make us happy and grant all of our wishes.  No Sir.  It is supposed to be about what we can do to bring glory to You.  Oh that we would!  

Father?  Forgive us again and again for thinking otherwise.  May we exalt You today and every day is my hope.  I may not have publicly said it in a while but I love You, Lord.  I am amazed and in awe of Your creation, obviously, but I am mostly dumbfounded by Your patience, love, and willingness to give us all so many opportunities to turn to You--not just when crises happen, Father, but at all times.  We tend to forget You when things are going our way, don’t we?  Sigh.  Oh Lord, breathe on us this very moment, I ask, so that we might be refreshed and stand again in the midst of the storms.  I ask this in the name of Jesus, the Marvelous One.  Amen!

Alright or...all wrong?

Social media is great.  It keeps me informed on who did what, when they did, where it happened, what was so great about it, and...sometimes it tells me why something happened.  Other times it leaves me subject to either believing what is being fed to me or making up my own mind.

Case in point:  Matthew McConaugheyheyhey.  Okay, I hear your collective rapturous sighs (ahem Gloria).  Yes, he is a cutie and that southern drawl of his has melted many a heart.  He's a man's man and a woman's dream.  His celebrity has risen extensively over the years and with his Oscar win for his role in "Dallas Buyers Club" he is now taken very seriously as an actor and not just a man with a pretty face.

One of Matthew's trademark quotes is "Alright alright alright!"  It usually brings a smile to my face as I envision his mischievous smile and that voice, gravelly, as he grins into the camera.  Usually but...but not today.  Today, as I read Max Lucado's devotion, those three words took on another meaning.  

They come from the Book of Jeremiah and read like this:  “They treat my people's wounds as though they were not serious, saying, 'Everything is alright! Everything is alright!' But it's not alright."  (6:14)

Ouch, right?  

So many of us just want to brush aside another's pain, kiss it and make it better, and then forget about the lasting bruises, broken bones, and hurting spirits.  Most of it's our own fault, for we are too quick to respond that we are okay because we don't want others to feel sorry for us.  Or don't want them to try to fix us--as in quick fix rather than a complete excision of the object that needs to be removed so that it can stop pricking us.  Either way, it’s not alright.  We’re not alright.

Maybe it’s time to stop being superficial, friends.  Maybe it’s time to stop saying we’re fine when our wounds ache, when our sores aren’t healing as well as they could because we keep picking at them.  Maybe it’s time to call on The Great Physician and allow Him to let others balm us.  Our wounds are serious and they need treated, not ignored.  

Let’s pray!

Dear Lord, as I ponder this verse and the significance of it, thank You.  Thank Your for once again reminding me to stop accepting pat answers from folks when I can sense more is going on.  Help me to be bold but not pushy.  Help me to see behind the pretense and seek the heart of the matter.  Help me, Lord, I earnestly pray, to show others that they matter and that their pain is validated--in spite of their best efforts to convince me (themselves?) that they’re all right.  “The greatest is love” Paul said, when discussing Christians’ best attributes.  May I love better than ever before through Christ Jesus is my prayer this evening.  Amen.

Stand

Steve once asked me why I love sunflowers so much.  My answers came swiftly and without deliberation.

“I love sunflowers because they are so bright.  They bloom and they give much beauty.  They don’t need much attention:  you basically plant the seed and every once in a while, water it.  They don’t require weeding or coddling.  They grow tall and firm without need of anything to support them.”

I went on.  “They just stand there, faces bowed to the sun.  The winds and rain beat against them and yet, they don’t falter.  Oh sure, they might sway a little but basically?  No matter what life throws at them, they stand.  And when their season is over, they still stand.  They still drop their seeds and feed the birds.  They bow in the presence of the sun when it shines on them.  They know their place and they know their duty.  They stand-- and they do it beautifully.”

As children of the Lord, that is our job too.  Paul tell us in Ephesians 6 that we are in a battle but it’s not against flesh and blood.  Oh that we could see this!  All the fights and skirmishes and misplaced aggression that could be eliminated.  All the hurt feelings that could be avoided.  All the lies that weren’t listened to.  All the joy that would not have been stolen.

Friends, we are not promised tomorrow.  We aren’t even promised our next breaths.  Do we really want to waste them on ugly words, on hateful actions, or on negative thoughts that take us down roads of bitterness?  Why not choose today to be a sunflower?  Think on the whatsoevers that are true, right, holy, honest, pure, and lovely.  Stand, basking in the Son, heads held high when the storms of life rage.  Bear seeds that will feed the birds of the air and the appetites of those who are specially endowed with the taste of sunflower seeds.  Rely on Christ to nourish you, to sustain you, and to keep you upright.

You are the light of the world.  Rise like the sunflowers and shine.  Stand with your face toward the Son.  He’s there for you.  Be there for Him!

Thumbs Up!

In 2007, a movie came out called “Wild Hogs.” It featured a cantankerous bunch of middle-aged fellas who liked to ride Harleys and wanted to take a road trip to get away from reality and the cares of this world.  These four fellas decided to go on a road trip and try to recapture a little of the glory days they once had.

One of them, Dudley Frank, was quite the lovable guy.  His sunny disposition and ability to look for the good when things weren’t always going great endeared himself to the audience.  For instance, Dudley often found himself in scrapes or had things happen to him that most of us would have cried over.  But not Dudley.  He’d call out “I’m okay,” rub his tender part that had been jabbed, smile, and just keep going.

There’s another fella I know that has this type of personality.  When life hits him, he doesn’t rant and rail in response.  Nope.  Instead, he calls out “I’m okay” before the words “Are you alright?!” can even be spoken.  He even takes it one step further.  He holds up the universal thumbs up finger to let all know that he is indeed fine.

Oh sure.  He hurts.  He has scrapes, scars, and quite a few bruises.  He probably in all honesty has landed on his rear more times than Dudley did (remember this quote from him:  “It’s okay.  I hit my butt!”).  He also has been attacked more times from his brothers (whether blood ones or spiritual ones, I’ll let you ponder on that one) but because he has grown up in this atmosphere, this type of behaviour is not unusual for him.  Rather, it’s the norm.  He is used to being battered about, pushed aside, knocked over when he’s in the way (even though he had no clue he was impeding another’s progress).  Because his exposure to the ways of the world often include physical pain and unfair treatment, he goes on.  With a smile.  With a thumbs up gesture to let us know he’s okay.  It’s what he knows and while that does not make it right, he doesn’t know differently--yet.  

His response is such a testimony to me.  He doesn’t realize how his acceptance of bad things happening to good people touches my soul.  He has no clue that his happy demeanor makes me look inwardly and question my own often poor choice of responses when I am getting walked on and stomped on and kicked around.  I’m more of a milker; more of one who cries and lets the whole world know I hurt, that I’ve been done wrong, and that this situation is unjust and unfair.  Hopefully I’ll get to tell him one day.

In conclusion, our attitude determines our outlook.  We can cry over spilt milk or clean it up and get some more.  We can misuse the Golden Rule and do unto others as they first did to us and seek retribution and tell ourselves it’s the right thing to do.  We can burrow in our self-pity and make others beg for forgiveness for the slightest slight.  Or...or we can go on.  We can accept their poor behaviours.  We can acknowledge the pain we feel with a muttered “Ouch!” in disgust as my muse for today’s blog does.  And then, with our thumbs proudly held high, we can go on, determined to not let this thing get us down, to show before being asked that we’re fine, that we’re not defeated, not going down over a little infraction.  We can.  Will we?

Let’s pray!

2 Corinthians 4:17 tells me “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.”  Father?  Thank You for the reminders You send my way, the examples You show me through people that exhibit Your words.  Yes, life can hurt and some things are harder to get over than others.  Sometimes the hits just keep coming and it’s hard to stand, hard to not cry out, hard to not demand justice.  

Lord?  When those times come--especially out of nowhere!!--remind us that they are indeed temporary.  They won’t last.  They might leave their marks and yes, they might hurt for a while.  But just a while, Lord.  In the grand scheme of things, this life is a vapor.  May we Your children leave a sweet aroma behind rather than a stench of bitterness is my prayer for us all today.  In the sweet name of Jesus Christ I pray this.  Amen.