I recently attended my 40th high school reunion. Now, before you start saying, "Wow, she's old!", let me explain that I'm not that old. I didn't graduate in 1970 - I graduated in 1971. But, I should have graduated in 1972. I was a year ahead in school because we lived overseas when I was a child (that's a whole 'nother story). Anyway, our class held a combined reunion with the class of 1970, and I'd estimate there were 250 people there.
I hate those kind of things, but my life-long friend Joyce, class of '70, suggested we attend together, so I went. Here's the thing. I wasn't in the 'in' group in high school. In fact, I always sort of felt like I was in the 'out' group, if you know what I mean. Once, at the end of the tenth grade, I decided to try to catapult myself into the 'in' group by trying out for cheerleader. I made it through two days of excruciating tryout practices only to end up so sore that I couldn't climb the stairs at school or sit down on the potty without fainting. That very summer my mother beat me at tennis, and when I was upset about it, said, "Oh, don't worry. You're just not coordinated." If I'd only had that bit of blessed information a couple of months earlier, I'd have saved myself the humiliation of cheerleader tryout practices.
But I digress. Since the cheerleading idea bombed, I decided to try out for something a little less strenuous but not quite as 'in'. The Downbeats was a nine-girl a capella group that could just as easily have been called the Singing Geeks. I made it! So during my junior and senior years I enjoyed the musical challenge and 'fifteen minutes of fame' we got from singing at civic clubs and at school and church functions. I gained some valuable musical experience and confidence through being a part of Downbeats, but the close comraderie with the other girls was the real blessing. So when I decided to go to my reunion, I hoped I'd see some of them there.
Nope. I saw some familiar faces and even sneaked peeks at nametags to see if I'd have any 'Aha' moments, but it didn't happen. I ended up talking to five people:
1. David Lingerfelt, class of '70 -brother of Alan, a good guy friend of mine (class of '72). David never knew me in high school and didn't know I'd been friends with Alan. End of conversation.
2. Scott Eden - a supernice guy who sat behind me in senior English and, though he was in the 'in' group, always had a smile for me. BTW, he is just as nice and still as cute as he was in high school.
3. Gail Copeland, class of '72 - Her husband, Jimmy, was in my class. He was busy preparing with one of the bands that played later. Jimmy and Gail were good, close friends from my youth group at church.
4. Harriet Moncure - She tripped over the base of a column I was standing near, and when she caught herself and stood up, she was right in front of my face and blurted, "Joy Crawley!" (my maiden name). If she hadn't tripped, we might not have seen each other. She was not a close friend in high school, but it was still fun to talk to her.
5. Kathy Jordan - Kathy was another person in the 'in' group, but I approached her because we went to church together way back when and because her mother and mine were the best of friends. We had a short talk, mostly about deceased family.
Except for these five life-altering conversations, I tagged along with Joyce and spoke to the people she knew. At least we tried to speak. I don't think I've mentioned that the music was way too loud. The longer the evening went on, the more I wished I was back at the hotel with my sister and brother (The three of us had met in Richmond for a family reunion of sorts). As songs of the sixties and seventies blared in my ears, I longed for the quiet and comfort of sharing real, present-day life with those I love. So at ten-thirty I said my goodbyes to Joyce and her friends and to high school for the last time.
Some days I long for the reunion that will take place when I walk through heaven's gates, and these are the people I want to talk to first:
1. Jesus - a very dear friend. He once laid down His life for me. He knew my name before I was born, my maiden and married names. He pursued my heart and became the lover of my soul when I shyly let Him in at seven years of age. Not only has He been by my side all these years, but He has lived within me to guide, comfort, rebuke and cherish me. He is a very dear friend, and when I reach glory, I want to see Him first. I want to bow at His feet and hug His neck and feel His arms pulling me into the 'in' group.
2. Mama - my earliest friend. I want to tell her that I never appreciated her enough and I'm sorry for that. I also want to tell her how much her devoted life influenced mine. And I want to hug her and laugh with her and tell her about my grandchildren who she never got to meet.
3. Daddy - my other earliest friend. I want to hear his laughter and just sit with him for awhile.
4. Daddy's daddy - He died when my daddy was 11 years old, so I never got to meet him. But I've read things he wrote and things people wrote about him, and I know I'm going to love him.
5. My other grandparents and Aunt Pony and Aunt Tamar (two old-maid great aunts who were like extra grandmothers to me).
Of course, there are others I'm going to want to see and talk to, but these will be first. And I think we'll be able to hear each other because I hear the music there is beautiful.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Fingernails and Forgiveness
When I was a child we lived in Hong Kong. My parents were missionaries, and we were not rich, but compared to the average Chinese family there, we were very wealthy. In that culture, wealthy people had servants, so we had a servant, too. Ah-King was our combination cook, housekeeper and nanny.
Ah-King would let me hang around while she squatted to cut vegetables for dinner, did the wash, or whatever. One day, when she and I were the only ones home, I wandered away from her into my parents' bedroom. Bored and looking for something to pass the time, I drifted into their bathroom and came upon the beautiful sight of my mother's red fingernail polish sitting on the counter. Somehow knowing I shouldn't but not being able to resist, I proceeded to paint my fingernails while unintentionally daubing bright red patches all over my fingertips and parts of the bathroom counter and sink as well.
Just about the minute I put the brush back in the bottle for the last time, Ah-King came looking for me. Hearing her calling my name, I closed the door and locked it quickly, smearing red polish on the doorknob. Seconds later her Chinese-accented voice came through the heavy wooden door, "Miss Joy, you in there?"
I frantically turned the faucet on and began washing my hands. "Yes," I answered, voice quavering. "I'm almost finished. I had to go to the bathroom, and I'm washing my hands." The lie hung heavy in the room, feeling like a weight on my back.
Imagine my little-girl horror when the red stuff wouldn't come off!! I scrubbed and scrubbed to no avail, and my dismay quickly turned to dread.
"Miss Joy, what you doing?" Ah-King persisted. "Open this door."
Realizing I was a cooked goose, I turned the lock and slowly peeked out, clasping my hands behind my back (which, by the way, is a sure indication that a child has something to hide). Ah-King leveled her small frame against the large wooden door and pushed into the bathroom.
"Ah-ee-ya!" she cried. "What you been doing in here?"
"I-I was just trying to ma-make my fin-fingernails pretty," I sobbed and stuttered, "but it wo-won't come off. Not e-even when I wash with so-oap."
When she saw my hands, Ah-King shook her head and scolded, "Miss Joy, you know you not suppose to play with your mother's things." Then she took a long look at my tear-stained face still frozen in a horrified expression and said, "You never do this again?"
I quickly shook my head "No," so Ah-King opened a drawer and took out a plastic bottle and some cotton pads. She deftly began applying the magic liquid in the bottle to the cotton pads and then used the cotton pads on my fingers, the counter, the sink, the cabinet, the floor and the door. Where red had been, normalcy surfaced. I can still remember the disbelief, relief and gratitude I felt.
"Are you going to tell on me?" I asked, bottom lip protruding.
"No, but you be good, you hear?"
Ah-King had been given the authority of a parent that day, but she chose to be a servant to me. She put herself in my place and cleaned me up. How relieved I was. I couldn't get the 'sin' off me, but she knew how to do it and had mercy on me. She took responsibility for the dirty cotton pads in the trash can. She acted as if it never happened. I honestly don't remember much of anything else Ah-King ever did, but I remember her mercy and I remember that I loved her dearly.
"This the pow'r of the cross;
Christ became sin for us.
Took the blame, bore the wrath -
We stand forgiven at the cross." - Getty
Ah-King would let me hang around while she squatted to cut vegetables for dinner, did the wash, or whatever. One day, when she and I were the only ones home, I wandered away from her into my parents' bedroom. Bored and looking for something to pass the time, I drifted into their bathroom and came upon the beautiful sight of my mother's red fingernail polish sitting on the counter. Somehow knowing I shouldn't but not being able to resist, I proceeded to paint my fingernails while unintentionally daubing bright red patches all over my fingertips and parts of the bathroom counter and sink as well.
Just about the minute I put the brush back in the bottle for the last time, Ah-King came looking for me. Hearing her calling my name, I closed the door and locked it quickly, smearing red polish on the doorknob. Seconds later her Chinese-accented voice came through the heavy wooden door, "Miss Joy, you in there?"
I frantically turned the faucet on and began washing my hands. "Yes," I answered, voice quavering. "I'm almost finished. I had to go to the bathroom, and I'm washing my hands." The lie hung heavy in the room, feeling like a weight on my back.
Imagine my little-girl horror when the red stuff wouldn't come off!! I scrubbed and scrubbed to no avail, and my dismay quickly turned to dread.
"Miss Joy, what you doing?" Ah-King persisted. "Open this door."
Realizing I was a cooked goose, I turned the lock and slowly peeked out, clasping my hands behind my back (which, by the way, is a sure indication that a child has something to hide). Ah-King leveled her small frame against the large wooden door and pushed into the bathroom.
"Ah-ee-ya!" she cried. "What you been doing in here?"
"I-I was just trying to ma-make my fin-fingernails pretty," I sobbed and stuttered, "but it wo-won't come off. Not e-even when I wash with so-oap."
When she saw my hands, Ah-King shook her head and scolded, "Miss Joy, you know you not suppose to play with your mother's things." Then she took a long look at my tear-stained face still frozen in a horrified expression and said, "You never do this again?"
I quickly shook my head "No," so Ah-King opened a drawer and took out a plastic bottle and some cotton pads. She deftly began applying the magic liquid in the bottle to the cotton pads and then used the cotton pads on my fingers, the counter, the sink, the cabinet, the floor and the door. Where red had been, normalcy surfaced. I can still remember the disbelief, relief and gratitude I felt.
"Are you going to tell on me?" I asked, bottom lip protruding.
"No, but you be good, you hear?"
Ah-King had been given the authority of a parent that day, but she chose to be a servant to me. She put herself in my place and cleaned me up. How relieved I was. I couldn't get the 'sin' off me, but she knew how to do it and had mercy on me. She took responsibility for the dirty cotton pads in the trash can. She acted as if it never happened. I honestly don't remember much of anything else Ah-King ever did, but I remember her mercy and I remember that I loved her dearly.
"This the pow'r of the cross;
Christ became sin for us.
Took the blame, bore the wrath -
We stand forgiven at the cross." - Getty
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Inheritance
"We're spending your inheritance!" Mama exclaimed with a chuckle. My parents were off on their second journey to Hawaii, planning to trace the route they had taken to celebrate their fiftieth anniversary.
"Good - you deserve it; have a blast!" I replied.
Less than two years later, Mama fell on her head, and even though early on she seemed to be getting well, after two months she began having seizures. Over the next five months, she slowly lost her abilities and finally went into a coma-like state and died December 31, 2001. For eight and a half more years we enjoyed Daddy but lost him in June of this year.
Sadly, Mama and Daddy didn't have nearly enough time to spend all of our inheritance. So checks from their different investments are beginning to come in. My husband and I are having to make decisions - what to do with the money, how to invest it, how not to lose it! In today's economy there are no "sure things." Interest rates are dismal, even on long-term investments. The government will insure only so much in bank accounts. Stocks are iffy.
Well, I made a decision that many of you will appreciate. I decided to invest some of that inheritance in our house. The house is forty years old and the last time anything was updated was long before we moved in eighteen years ago. Well, actually, we have replaced the upstairs carpet and the kitchen flooring. And we've also painted a room or two, but the kitchen and bathrooms had that '80's look going. I figure the new stuff will increase the value and sellability of our house, should we decide to put it on the market in the next few years. At any rate, the money won't be wasted because I am going to enjoy the new countertops, appliances and beautiful, up-to-date paint techniques being applied by an expert (not moi). Thank you, Mama and Daddy!
I am grateful that Daddy was a smart investor and my parents were wise spenders. Though they worked as missionaries and church workers all their lives, they lived on a budget and saved enough money to support themselves in their old age. I'm thankful that they had enough to enjoy their golden years, living in a very nice retirement community and taking trips for pleasure. And of course, I would be lying if I said I'm not appreciative for their financial legacy, that leftover money they bequeathed to us kids.
But I'll be eternally indebted to Mama and Daddy for the other legacy they left us. You see, whereas they used discretion when spending money, they completely blew the budget when it came to spending their lives on people. They lived Jesus' words in Matthew 16:24-25: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it." I pray that I will be like that, that my children and friends and even people who don't know me well will be able to say they looked at me and saw Jesus. Thank you, Mama and Daddy, for this inheritance. It is precious. It is eternal. It's why I miss you so much.
"Good - you deserve it; have a blast!" I replied.
Less than two years later, Mama fell on her head, and even though early on she seemed to be getting well, after two months she began having seizures. Over the next five months, she slowly lost her abilities and finally went into a coma-like state and died December 31, 2001. For eight and a half more years we enjoyed Daddy but lost him in June of this year.
Sadly, Mama and Daddy didn't have nearly enough time to spend all of our inheritance. So checks from their different investments are beginning to come in. My husband and I are having to make decisions - what to do with the money, how to invest it, how not to lose it! In today's economy there are no "sure things." Interest rates are dismal, even on long-term investments. The government will insure only so much in bank accounts. Stocks are iffy.
Well, I made a decision that many of you will appreciate. I decided to invest some of that inheritance in our house. The house is forty years old and the last time anything was updated was long before we moved in eighteen years ago. Well, actually, we have replaced the upstairs carpet and the kitchen flooring. And we've also painted a room or two, but the kitchen and bathrooms had that '80's look going. I figure the new stuff will increase the value and sellability of our house, should we decide to put it on the market in the next few years. At any rate, the money won't be wasted because I am going to enjoy the new countertops, appliances and beautiful, up-to-date paint techniques being applied by an expert (not moi). Thank you, Mama and Daddy!
I am grateful that Daddy was a smart investor and my parents were wise spenders. Though they worked as missionaries and church workers all their lives, they lived on a budget and saved enough money to support themselves in their old age. I'm thankful that they had enough to enjoy their golden years, living in a very nice retirement community and taking trips for pleasure. And of course, I would be lying if I said I'm not appreciative for their financial legacy, that leftover money they bequeathed to us kids.
But I'll be eternally indebted to Mama and Daddy for the other legacy they left us. You see, whereas they used discretion when spending money, they completely blew the budget when it came to spending their lives on people. They lived Jesus' words in Matthew 16:24-25: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it." I pray that I will be like that, that my children and friends and even people who don't know me well will be able to say they looked at me and saw Jesus. Thank you, Mama and Daddy, for this inheritance. It is precious. It is eternal. It's why I miss you so much.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
"Softens Hands While You Do Dishes"
Remember the old Palmolive dishwashing detergent commercials? Women in beauty salons with their nails dipped in bowls of kelly green Palmolive? The manicurist, Madge, reassuring them, "Relax, it's Palmolive!" (You can see an example on youtube. Just do a search for 70s consumerism - Palmolive.)
Then, about ten years ago, the hot paraffin wax portable spas came along. They advertised that in just one treatment, your hands would be noticeably softer and younger looking. Of course, the model was always closer to twenty years old than forty. Her hands undoubtedly looked pretty fabulous to start with. She had not been asked by her eight-year-old grandson what the red, rough place on the back of her left hand was (eczema) and then been informed that the dark places were liver spots! (You can see an example of the young woman on youtube. Just do a search for Paraffin Wax Spa Hand Treatment at Home. You can see the old woman's liver-spotted hands by coming by my house on any given day.)
Current trends lean towards hand massages with healing oils, pumice stones, intensive care hand lotions, built-in lotion dispensers next to the built-in detergent dispensers next to the latest kitchen faucets, and so on.
Calluses can be a good thing. As in guitar-playing and knee-praying. But no one wants to shake hands with someone whose hands are dry, cracked and rough. No one wants those hands caressing his face. Those hands are disastrous when a woman is trying to put on panty hose.
How do your hands look? Are they dry, callused? Has the wear and tear of life worn and torn them? Is there really no such thing as a dishwashing detergent that softens hands? Do you just not have time to do home hot paraffin wax treatments? Do your pumice stone and intensive healing lotion sit in the drawer unused? Have your loved ones gotten used to the roughness of your hands and you really don't care what strangers think? Well, that's okay. I have to admit that sometimes mine are soft and sometimes they could sand a two by four smooth.
I hate to admit that my heart might be like that, too. Sometimes it is soft towards hurting people, slow people, disrespectul people, boring people. Sometimes it is soft towards God. Sometimes I want to know Him and His plans for my life, no matter what. But at other times, especially those days when I haven't read God's Word or worshiped Him or prayed, my heart feels callused. I care about me. Me and mine only. Oh, how I need Him to smooth away the rough, selfish places in my heart. How about you? Ponder these lyrics by Keith Getty. If you know the tune, sing with me.
Speak, O Lord, as we come to You
To receive the food of Your Holy Word.
Take Your truth, plant it deep in us;
Shape and fashion us in Your likeness,
That the light of Christ might be seen today
In our acts of love and our deeds of faith.
Speak, O Lord, and fulfill in us
All Your purposes for Your glory.
Teach us, Lord, full obedience,
Holy reverence, true humility;
Test our thoughts and our attitudes
In the radiance of Your purity.
Cause our faith to rise; cause our eyes to see
Your majestic love and authority.
Words of pow'r that can never fail -
Let their truth prevail over unbelief.
Speak, O Lord, and renew our minds;
Help us grasp the heights of Your plans for us -
Truths unchanged from the dawn of time
That will echo down through eternity.
And by grace we'll stand on Your promises,
And by faith we'll walk as You walk with us.
Speak, O Lord, till Your church is built
And the earth is filled with Your glory.
Then, about ten years ago, the hot paraffin wax portable spas came along. They advertised that in just one treatment, your hands would be noticeably softer and younger looking. Of course, the model was always closer to twenty years old than forty. Her hands undoubtedly looked pretty fabulous to start with. She had not been asked by her eight-year-old grandson what the red, rough place on the back of her left hand was (eczema) and then been informed that the dark places were liver spots! (You can see an example of the young woman on youtube. Just do a search for Paraffin Wax Spa Hand Treatment at Home. You can see the old woman's liver-spotted hands by coming by my house on any given day.)
Current trends lean towards hand massages with healing oils, pumice stones, intensive care hand lotions, built-in lotion dispensers next to the built-in detergent dispensers next to the latest kitchen faucets, and so on.
Calluses can be a good thing. As in guitar-playing and knee-praying. But no one wants to shake hands with someone whose hands are dry, cracked and rough. No one wants those hands caressing his face. Those hands are disastrous when a woman is trying to put on panty hose.
How do your hands look? Are they dry, callused? Has the wear and tear of life worn and torn them? Is there really no such thing as a dishwashing detergent that softens hands? Do you just not have time to do home hot paraffin wax treatments? Do your pumice stone and intensive healing lotion sit in the drawer unused? Have your loved ones gotten used to the roughness of your hands and you really don't care what strangers think? Well, that's okay. I have to admit that sometimes mine are soft and sometimes they could sand a two by four smooth.
I hate to admit that my heart might be like that, too. Sometimes it is soft towards hurting people, slow people, disrespectul people, boring people. Sometimes it is soft towards God. Sometimes I want to know Him and His plans for my life, no matter what. But at other times, especially those days when I haven't read God's Word or worshiped Him or prayed, my heart feels callused. I care about me. Me and mine only. Oh, how I need Him to smooth away the rough, selfish places in my heart. How about you? Ponder these lyrics by Keith Getty. If you know the tune, sing with me.
Speak, O Lord, as we come to You
To receive the food of Your Holy Word.
Take Your truth, plant it deep in us;
Shape and fashion us in Your likeness,
That the light of Christ might be seen today
In our acts of love and our deeds of faith.
Speak, O Lord, and fulfill in us
All Your purposes for Your glory.
Teach us, Lord, full obedience,
Holy reverence, true humility;
Test our thoughts and our attitudes
In the radiance of Your purity.
Cause our faith to rise; cause our eyes to see
Your majestic love and authority.
Words of pow'r that can never fail -
Let their truth prevail over unbelief.
Speak, O Lord, and renew our minds;
Help us grasp the heights of Your plans for us -
Truths unchanged from the dawn of time
That will echo down through eternity.
And by grace we'll stand on Your promises,
And by faith we'll walk as You walk with us.
Speak, O Lord, till Your church is built
And the earth is filled with Your glory.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Just One Thing
My friend Sherrie is the director of our church's weekday preschool program. We were in Cracker Barrel yesterday when she asked me what I thought she should give the teachers for their Christmas gifts. We looked around a bit, but no inspiration came. After more discussion, however, I had an idea she jumped on. So, after we had eaten lunch, we went to a large store that sells just about everything you can imagine.
As we began looking through all the giftware, I was reminded of a time a few years back when I went to that store looking for teapots. I was the Preschool Minister of our church, and I had decided to have a tea party for young girls and their mothers. I wanted each table to have a different teapot as a centerpiece, so for several months I hunted for teapots. It got to the point where I could walk in a store and see only those small things that had handles sticking out of one side. All the other paraphernalia in the store would fade to the background, and all I had to do was check the item to determine if it was a teapot, pitcher, or mug.
After several more weeks of searching, my mind had learned to notice only those items that had a handle on one side and a spout on the other, thereby eliminating mugs from my view. Then, finally, after a couple more weeks, I could scan the shelves of a store and see only those things with a handle on one side, a spout on the other and a lid on the top. I was looking for and looking at just one thing - teapots! My search became so simple that I began seeing teapots practically everywhere I went, and I had to stop buying!!!
There's such a wonderful spiritual lesson in this, friends. We can get overwhelmed living in this world where we're bombarded with all kinds of "stuff." Finding God's will for our lives should be easier than it is, and I want to challenge you to start today by narrowing your search. Jesus said to Martha of Bethany, "You are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed." That one thing was modeled by Martha's sister, Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to Him.
We need to get to know Jesus by reading the gospels over and over. Then we will learn the shape of Him. Finally, as we walk through this crowded, busy, hurried, sinful world, we will begin to see where He is, what He is doing, how we can join in on what He is about. The world will fade from view, and just the one thing - Jesus - will fill our thoughts and hearts. And that is His will for our lives, His good, pleasing and perfect will (Rom. 12:2b).
As we began looking through all the giftware, I was reminded of a time a few years back when I went to that store looking for teapots. I was the Preschool Minister of our church, and I had decided to have a tea party for young girls and their mothers. I wanted each table to have a different teapot as a centerpiece, so for several months I hunted for teapots. It got to the point where I could walk in a store and see only those small things that had handles sticking out of one side. All the other paraphernalia in the store would fade to the background, and all I had to do was check the item to determine if it was a teapot, pitcher, or mug.
After several more weeks of searching, my mind had learned to notice only those items that had a handle on one side and a spout on the other, thereby eliminating mugs from my view. Then, finally, after a couple more weeks, I could scan the shelves of a store and see only those things with a handle on one side, a spout on the other and a lid on the top. I was looking for and looking at just one thing - teapots! My search became so simple that I began seeing teapots practically everywhere I went, and I had to stop buying!!!
There's such a wonderful spiritual lesson in this, friends. We can get overwhelmed living in this world where we're bombarded with all kinds of "stuff." Finding God's will for our lives should be easier than it is, and I want to challenge you to start today by narrowing your search. Jesus said to Martha of Bethany, "You are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed." That one thing was modeled by Martha's sister, Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to Him.
We need to get to know Jesus by reading the gospels over and over. Then we will learn the shape of Him. Finally, as we walk through this crowded, busy, hurried, sinful world, we will begin to see where He is, what He is doing, how we can join in on what He is about. The world will fade from view, and just the one thing - Jesus - will fill our thoughts and hearts. And that is His will for our lives, His good, pleasing and perfect will (Rom. 12:2b).
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Not Good; Not Good at All
My righteousness was certainly filthy rags today. The real pain of it is that I knew it was going to be. I put off calling the credit card company because something just told me I was going to get mad. And even though I prayed that the Holy Spirit would guard my tongue and keep me calm, I lost it.
I knew they would argue with me about cancelling because I tried to cancel last year, and I had allowed that woman to talk me into keeping the card. This year I was prepared! I called August 25 and asked that the card be cancelled on August 30, the day before the annual fee would be charged. The guy tried to stop me. He gave me all kinds of reasons not to cancel (just like the woman last year did), but I stood firm. Finally, he said okay. My new card had already come in the mail, but I hadn't activated it. So when August finished, I dusted my hands off and said, "There. That takes care of that!"
But it didn't. I got my last statement, and on it was the annual fee. Also on it was a charge on Sept. 2. I knew I hadn't charged anything on that date because I thought the card was cancelled. So I looked back in my email records and found I had charged to that online store on August 23. Aha! They were trying to trick me, but they didn't know who they were dealing with!!!
The long and short of it is, the man called me a liar on the phone today; said their records showed no phone call from me since 12/09 and therefore, I would have to pay the fee. Well, I didn't yell exactly, but my voice rose a little bit. After all, I wanted to be sure he heard me say I didn't appreciate being called a liar and that I had indeed talked to a young man six weeks ago, and I had thought my card was cancelled and he could just check his records and see that I hadn't charged anything in six weeks and that was not normal activity for me!
I got nowhere with him. And I ended up feeling so raunchy about the way I had handled my feelings. Why did I think the world would act in a Christian manner if I couldn't? Isaiah 64:6 says, "all our righteous acts are like filthy rags." Filthy rags. The Bible is talking about the unclean rags that have menstrual blood all over them. Yeah, that's what my so-called righteousness looks like.
Oh Jesus, thank you for pouring Your blood over me and making me to become righteous in God's eyes. "God made him who had no sin to become sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Corinthians 5:21). I'm just a sinner, saved by grace. Hallelujah, what a Savior!
I knew they would argue with me about cancelling because I tried to cancel last year, and I had allowed that woman to talk me into keeping the card. This year I was prepared! I called August 25 and asked that the card be cancelled on August 30, the day before the annual fee would be charged. The guy tried to stop me. He gave me all kinds of reasons not to cancel (just like the woman last year did), but I stood firm. Finally, he said okay. My new card had already come in the mail, but I hadn't activated it. So when August finished, I dusted my hands off and said, "There. That takes care of that!"
But it didn't. I got my last statement, and on it was the annual fee. Also on it was a charge on Sept. 2. I knew I hadn't charged anything on that date because I thought the card was cancelled. So I looked back in my email records and found I had charged to that online store on August 23. Aha! They were trying to trick me, but they didn't know who they were dealing with!!!
The long and short of it is, the man called me a liar on the phone today; said their records showed no phone call from me since 12/09 and therefore, I would have to pay the fee. Well, I didn't yell exactly, but my voice rose a little bit. After all, I wanted to be sure he heard me say I didn't appreciate being called a liar and that I had indeed talked to a young man six weeks ago, and I had thought my card was cancelled and he could just check his records and see that I hadn't charged anything in six weeks and that was not normal activity for me!
I got nowhere with him. And I ended up feeling so raunchy about the way I had handled my feelings. Why did I think the world would act in a Christian manner if I couldn't? Isaiah 64:6 says, "all our righteous acts are like filthy rags." Filthy rags. The Bible is talking about the unclean rags that have menstrual blood all over them. Yeah, that's what my so-called righteousness looks like.
Oh Jesus, thank you for pouring Your blood over me and making me to become righteous in God's eyes. "God made him who had no sin to become sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Corinthians 5:21). I'm just a sinner, saved by grace. Hallelujah, what a Savior!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Puzzles
Puzzles are fun. Word puzzles. Number puzzles. Jigsaw puzzles. I like to be able to figure them out. The process, to me, is invigorating. The more challenging the better. Like the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle. My daddy had a book of 200 of them, and he'd only done through #91 before he died, so I am attempting to do the rest. So far, I've totally completed only four out of the twenty-four I've attempted. They're difficult, sometimes grueling, but oh, the sheer satisfaction of figuring them out and checking them off! And I'll keep going back to the ones I haven't finished because sometimes I'll have an AHA moment the second or third or fourth time around. Something will finally click, and then I'll be able to get another word and another.
I think that's the thrill. Finally getting something I didn't think I knew.
Life is a puzzle, full of situations that are puzzling and people who I don't get because they are so different from me and my little world. Why don't I get as excited about life puzzles as I do about Sudoku or Crytoquote or the New York Times Sunday crossword? Maybe because the stakes are so much higher. If I don't figure out the Crytoquote today, then oh well. But if I can't solve the puzzles of poverty and wealth, giving and saving, putting my neck out there and protecting my soul, being risky and being daring, etcetera, etcetera, then what does my life mean?
Jesus said, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself " (Matthew 22:37-39). Paul said, "Love never fails! Everyone who prophesies will stop, and unknown languages will no longer be spoken. All that we know will be forgotten. We don't know everything, and our prophcies are not complete. But what is perfect will someday appear, and what isn't perfect will then disappear...Now all we can see of God is like a cloudy picture in a mirror. Later we will see him face to face. We don't know everything, but then we will, just as God completely understands us. For now there are faith, hope and love. But of these three, the greatest is love" (1 Corinthians 13:8-10, 12-13).
I guess the answer to my dilemma is to get excited about pursuing love. Not the thrill of answers and complete solution of the myriad of earthly puzzles, but the joy of loving as Christ loved me and gave himself up for me as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God (Ephesians 5:2).
I think that's the thrill. Finally getting something I didn't think I knew.
Life is a puzzle, full of situations that are puzzling and people who I don't get because they are so different from me and my little world. Why don't I get as excited about life puzzles as I do about Sudoku or Crytoquote or the New York Times Sunday crossword? Maybe because the stakes are so much higher. If I don't figure out the Crytoquote today, then oh well. But if I can't solve the puzzles of poverty and wealth, giving and saving, putting my neck out there and protecting my soul, being risky and being daring, etcetera, etcetera, then what does my life mean?
Jesus said, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself " (Matthew 22:37-39). Paul said, "Love never fails! Everyone who prophesies will stop, and unknown languages will no longer be spoken. All that we know will be forgotten. We don't know everything, and our prophcies are not complete. But what is perfect will someday appear, and what isn't perfect will then disappear...Now all we can see of God is like a cloudy picture in a mirror. Later we will see him face to face. We don't know everything, but then we will, just as God completely understands us. For now there are faith, hope and love. But of these three, the greatest is love" (1 Corinthians 13:8-10, 12-13).
I guess the answer to my dilemma is to get excited about pursuing love. Not the thrill of answers and complete solution of the myriad of earthly puzzles, but the joy of loving as Christ loved me and gave himself up for me as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God (Ephesians 5:2).
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