Your One-Sentence Eulogy

Thank you KAREN EHMAN for today’s message.

My kitchen contains some of my favorite things.

My big red Dutch oven where a batch of cheesy potato-corn chowder simmers. A watercolor painting of a bowl of fruit, purchased at an estate sale. And my aqua hand mixer. Because, well, I like to bake, and I love the color aqua! But the object I adore most is a lettered sign my mother-in-law gave me, made from rustic barnwood and stenciled with this simple phrase: “Scatter Kindness.”

I hung this inspiring inscription above the kitchen door that leads to the garage, so I’m sure to see it every time I exit my home. We live in a world filled with turmoil, sadness and despair. Of course, there are pockets of happiness too. On many days, though, it feels like the sadness overshadows the joy. It doesn’t take much looking around to find a soul in need of a little encouragement or a healthy dose of hope.

I was once told that there are two types of people in the world: those who enter a room full of people and announce, “Here I am!” and those who walk into a room, seek out another soul and lovingly declare, “Oh … there you are!” It makes me wonder, someday — when I am long gone — will I be remembered as someone who sought to encourage others or sought only to make herself known? Which one will be said of you?

The Bible tells detailed stories of the titans of the faith: Abraham, Joseph, Esther and Mary, to name a few. But sometimes it gives us an intriguing glimpse of some lesser-known characters, sketching their stories in a simple sentence or two. One such character is the New Testament woman named Tabitha.

We meet Tabitha in Acts, where the story of the birth of the Christian church is recorded by a doctor named Luke. Acts also introduces us to the founders of the church, including Peter and Paul. But tucked away in its pages we also find a portrait of a woman who demonstrated how to put others first and scatter kindness. I love her one-sentence description: “In Joppa there was a disciple named Tabitha (in Greek her name is Dorcas); she was always doing good and helping the poor” (Acts 9:36, emphasis added).

What a beautiful and unusual introduction! While most personal descriptions mention relationships (such as “a wonderful wife and mother”) or career accomplishments (“a dedicated nurse”) this woman was known for continually looking for ways to scatter kindness. Concerned about the poor, she actively worked to make their lives better. In fact, her actions so radiated Christ’s love that the author of Acts recorded these words for us to read 2,000 years later in our Bibles.

One reason we know about Tabitha today is because she died, and Peter raised her from the dead. But as glorious as her resurrection was, her character is what impresses me: “She was always doing good and helping the poor.” Oh, how this one sentence shakes my soul and stirs my heart!

If someone were going to record a one-sentence eulogy about us, what would they say? Would they observe about us — like Tabitha — that we were “always doing good” to others? Were we on the lookout for those who had a much harder row to hoe, or were we more concerned about our own safety and comfort, giving little thought to others?

While sometimes we may think our life is boring, could we see our humble and common circumstances as an opportunity for God’s eternal purposes, just as Tabitha did? Could we seek to scatter kindness, discovering an important and fulfilling ministry as we do?

Years from now, how will you be remembered? As a, “Here I am!” person or as an, “Oh … there you are!” sort of soul?

What will be your one-sentence eulogy?

Have a ThirtyOne-derful day!

 

Noticing Your Necessary People

Thank you to KAREN EHMAN for today’s message:

My two small children huddled together, excitedly giggling with glee. It wasn’t Christmas or Easter. It was a different holiday — Mr. Brown Day.

Let me explain.

One day, my husband and I encouraged our kids to choose a “necessary person” — someone who helps us get life done each week — and then think of a creative way to thank them. They came up with the same person — Mr. Brown. And the idea? Mr. Brown Day!

Mr. Brown was our mailman. But he delivered more than just bills and packages. He distributed smiles to those along his route — never too busy to chat with a lonely widow or ask a youngster about his Little League game.

We took the kids shopping for trinkets for Mr. Brown — a squirt gun for him to use to ward off the neighborhood dogs and a gift certificate to the local Dairy Queen, so he could take Mrs. Brown out for a “fancy dinner.” We baked cookies and poured lemonade. Then, we hid inside our front door and waited with party blowers and confetti.

“Surprise!” we shouted as we threw open the door. “It’s Mr. Brown, best mailman in town! Today is officially Mr. Brown Day!”

To say he was surprised would be a gross understatement. He wanted to know what all the ruckus was about. My daughter told him we had been studying in the Bible about not just saying we love people but really showing them. And she and her brother had chosen him! He enjoyed the refreshments, gave each child a hug and then went on his way with an added spring in his step and confetti still in his hair.

A week later he stood on my porch and said, “I have to tell you, I am still not over Mr. Brown Day.” His voice cracking, he continued, “You know, I have been a mailman on this street for 33 years, and no one has ever done anything like what your family did for me. Sure, people remember me at Christmas. But no one has ever reached out to me on a random Tuesday afternoon to say they appreciate what I do. Thank you for Mr. Brown Day.”

Noticing the necessary people in our lives isn’t just a hobby. It isn’t just something we engage in so we can snap a picture, upload it on social media and have everyone elect us humanitarian of the year. We don’t do it to boast. Or to get a blessing in return. We show love to the necessary people in our lives because when we do, we acknowledge the fact that all humans are created in the image of God (Genesis 1:27).

Every day and every week, our lives naturally intersect with many people, all of whom bear God’s image. When we look beyond ourselves — and beyond the flaws and quirks of others — we see God. We have an opportunity not only to greet these necessary people face-to-face, but to witness God’s very image in them.

Each person in their roles demonstrates some aspect of God’s character and His care for us. Our hairstylist can note the very hairs on our head (Matthew 10:30)! Our carpet cleaner makes our carpet as white as snow (Psalm 51:7). (Well, except for that one pesky grape juice stain!) Our medical professionals help us live, breathe and have our being (Acts 17:28). Yes, everywhere we look we see reflections of God’s creative genius and His loving care in the people who serve us.

Our lives can take on new meaning and be an exciting adventure if we stop to notice these necessary people. As we recognize them as image-bearers of God Himself, we will be more cognizant not only to thank them for their service, but to do something to encourage them as well.

Which “necessary person” will you bless today? I hear there’s a great sale on confetti this week.

Have a ThirtyOne-derful day!

Hug a Porcupine and Squeeze a Skunk

Thank you KAREN EHMAN for today’s message..

I once worked as a substitute teacher. While that evokes images of chewing gum stuck to chairs and strategically placed “Kick me!” signs, this was not my experience. Sure, many of the kids were squirrely, but I never had an ounce of trouble with any of them.

Until one day.

That was the day the principal told me, “In third hour you will have a student named John Smith. Just send him down to the office before class starts. He’s known as Big Bad John, and he’s never successfully made it through even one hour with a sub. He will disrupt the class, bully others and try to make you look stupid. I want to spare you any confrontation.”

I knew exactly which student he meant and really wanted a chance to reach this troublemaker. So I petitioned the principal: “May I attempt to keep him in class and then send him to the office if he causes trouble? I’d love to try, if you don’t mind.”

“Be my guest,” he laughingly replied. “I’ll expect him shortly after class begins.”

Just before third period, a towering, husky student appeared in the doorway. He had on ripped jeans — before they were fashionable — and a soiled light blue T-shirt. I could tell from the way the students stayed back that his odor was as unpleasant as his appearance and personality. I shot up a quick prayer and greeted him.

With a smug look on his unwashed face, he boldly declared, “I suppose you’ve heard ’bout me. I’ll bet the principal told you to send me right to the office ’cause ain’t none of you subs able to handle me.”

“Nope,” I replied, just as quickly and confidently. “I heard you were going to be in my class, and I also heard you are a great kid. Do you mind helping me pass out these papers?”

Big Bad John wasn’t sure what to do. Some he threw on the floor. Another he used to play a game of keep-away with a girl in class. I followed behind him, corrected whatever he did, picking up the papers or gently taking one from his hand to give to a student. I thanked him when he was through, making no comment on his behavior.

Next, we watched a movie, and John began to act like his nickname. He was disruptive — not just talking but also taunting other students.

I walked over to his chair, squatted down, looked him in the eye and firmly but gently said, “Hey, look, John. I know that you have a reputation of never being able to make it through an hour with a substitute teacher. But I say today we show the principal a thing or two. I know you can cooperate. I know you are a good kid deep down inside. I’d love for that good kid to come out today and for us to be friends. Are you willing to give it a try, just this once?”

His countenance softened. For the last 15 minutes of class, John actually watched the movie without incident. After class, the school’s office staff buzzed with the news that this school bully had made it through an entire hour with a sub. After that, whenever I had John in class, he behaved well. In fact, when he saw me out at a basketball game or the grocery store, he smiled, waved and hollered, “Hi, lady.”

It’s easy to love those who are lovable. It’s a breeze to be kind to people you like. But to truly be patient and gentle toward someone who acts unloving or unbecoming is an altogether special assignment — one Jesus not only taught, but modeled.

He spent much of his time on earth with the not-so-popular people. He touched the leper. He granted dignity to the prostitute. He welcomed children and the tax collectors and those whom society rejected. Jesus modeled upside-down living and loving. And He urges us to do the same.

Let’s make it our aim not to just love the easy-to-love, but to hug the “porcupines” and squeeze the “skunks” in our lives, reaching those whose behavior and demeanor usually pushes people away rather than draws them in close.

Have a ThirtyOne-derful day!

Where Does a Mom Go to Resign?

“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.” Galatians 6:9 (ESV)

It started out as an ordinary spring day. Outside, the sun shone brightly, warming my kitchen counters through the window. Inside, however, the temperature was chilly. (And I don’t mean the thermostat was set too low.) My normally cheerful spirit had glazed over into a wall of ice and anger. I’d finally had enough. And so I snapped.

My emotions snapped.

My self-control snapped.

And — most visibly — I snapped at my three children.

“Ugh!!!!! You kids get out here right this minute!” I hollered from the living room, tagging on a warning, “And I don’t mean maybe!” All of a sudden, it was the 1980s and I heard my own mom’s voice coming out of my mouth. I vowed I would never say, “And I don’t mean maybe!” Yet here I was not only breaking that promise, but other vows as well.

I’ll never scream like some parents do. I’ll gently explain.

Our family won’t have anger issues. We’ll be loving and kind.

That morning, my well-intentioned plans got chucked out the window as I let my angry words fly. My kids’ crime? Simple childhood irresponsibility.

My youngest had abandoned his action figures and plastic building blocks in the living room, right where this unsuspecting mom would step on one, barefoot.

My second child had tracked in mud from the woods. Somehow — despite being told umpteen times — he just couldn’t remember to remove his boots in the garage before entering the house to show me the latest creature he’d caught.

And our kitchen was a total disaster after yet another one of our young teen daughter’s kitchen concoctions. She loved creating recipes. Unfortunately, what she didn’t love was cleaning up the mess left in the wake. And on the counter — in the midst of the mess — were two permission slips she needed, now spattered with batter.

I was tired of trying to teach my kids to be responsible. I wanted to officially resign from being a mother. Without even giving two weeks’ notice!

When my temper simmered down, I apologized to my kids. But I didn’t let them off the hook. We talked about their lack of follow‑through, their messes and the resulting mayhem that drove their mama nuts! We all vowed to try harder and to speak kinder next time.

Bringing up children is not for the faint of heart. Day after day, we must instruct, encourage, correct and supervise. And then? The next day, we must do it all over again. For years and years … oh my!

Yes, motherhood is hard work. But it is also good work. And today’s key verse says this about good work, “… let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:9).

See those last four words? Do. Not. Give. Up.

Mom, don’t turn in your resignation just yet. You aren’t finished. There will be a harvest … in due season.

My children are all over 18 now. I’ve had a little time to observe the harvest. And I see that it is true — we reap a harvest when we don’t give up.

My toy‑building, critter‑catching boys each have jobs where they are responsible, and they now clean up after themselves very nicely. My daughter uses her culinary skills to bless others and even fills out her own mounds of paperwork in a timely manner as a small business owner.

Eventually, our children acquire the skills we attempt to teach them. Not overnight, but in due season. They will learn to keep a house. Make a meal. Take care of a business. Not only will they survive, they will thrive.

So hang in there, mom. Keep doing the good work of motherhood. Don’t grow weary. Mothering matters. Not only to your kids, but also to God.

Thank you Karen Ehman and Proverbs 31.

 

When Your To-Do List Makes You Hyperventilate

Today’s blog is courtesy of Karen Ehman:

“Whatever you do, do it enthusiastically, as something done for the Lord and not for men, knowing that you will receive the reward of an inheritance from the Lord. You serve the Lord Christ.” Colossians 3:23-24 (HCSB)

I grabbed my mango-mint iced tea, a spiral notepad and pen and headed to my backyard deck.

Settling myself into a lounge chair, I began to tackle the chore that was before me: writing out my to-do list for the week. Although my notepad was whimsical and my pen was laden with bright purple ink, these organizational objects couldn’t cancel the dread I felt about having to think it through, write it down and then execute the many tasks before me.

My life as a wife, mom, worker, daughter, neighbor, church member and friend brings me much delight. I get to watch my son play football, help my adult daughter look for her first house and work on projects with others that I love and believe in.

However, my life also brings me lots of “to-dos”: Purchases to make. Closets to organize. Paperwork to complete. Phone calls to return. Research to be done. Pots and pans to scrub. Kids to shuttle. Parents to check on. And on and on it goes.

Sometimes — when I get my list all scrawled out on paper — instead of feeling energized with a game plan, my emotions go into panic mode. I’m almost afraid to look at the list since it seems monumental. While most of the tasks in and of themselves aren’t too difficult or time-consuming, when viewed as a whole, they seem like a massive mountain I’ll never be able to scale.

And then, on top of the panic, I also start to pout. My mind starts looping the “poor me” soundtrack that results from just looking at my list.

Poor me … I have to mop the floors.

Poor me … I have paperwork to finish.

Poor me … I have to drive and get groceries.

Poor me … I have to run my son to practice.

Poor me … I have to work on the computer for a few hours to finish this project.

Poor, poor, pitiful me!

Today’s key passage addresses this “poor me” mentality by giving us a fresh perspective as we go about our work: “Whatever you do, do it enthusiastically, as something done for the Lord and not for men …”

Three words jump up at me as I stop and ponder this verse:

1. Whatever.

Whatever I do. Not just the tasks I enjoy, or the work that brings me recognition or the duties that I find also fun, but WHATEVER I do is to be done …

2. Enthusiastically.

Enthusiastically is defined as “done lively and with great interest; wholeheartedly, sincerely, energetically and earnestly.” Hmmm … I’m not so sure that describes my attitude as I tackle the “whatevers” on my to-do list. How about you?

3. Lord.

It is the Lord himself we are serving as we enthusiastically check off our “whatevers.” Not a husband. Or kids. Not a boss or the committee chairperson. We are serving Jesus Christ Himself as we work.

How about we hit the re-start button when it comes to taking our lists from “to-do” to “It’s done!”? Let’s not panic. Or pout. Rather, let’s loop thoughts through our minds Colossians 3:23 style.

In other words:

I don’t have to clean my house. I get to clean my house — because I have a place to call my own, while many are homeless or displaced. And I am serving the Lord Jesus as I clean.

I don’t have to fill out this team permission slip. I get to fill it out — because my child is healthy enough for physical activity and has caring, volunteer coaches who give of their time. And I am serving the Lord Jesus as I write.

I don’t have to drive and get groceries. I get to do this errand — because we have enough money to purchase provisions and we own a car, so I don’t have to walk. And I am serving the Lord Jesus as I shop.

We don’t have to. We get to. And thanks be to God that we do.

TRUTH FOR TODAY:

2 Chronicles 15:7, “But as for you, be strong and do not give up, for your work will be rewarded.” (NIV)