Delores Liesner

Get ready.

An overnight with my daughter and a woman’s conference was the incentive I needed.  Preparing hearts as well as wardrobe was the agenda of the day.  Praying as I packed, I asked God if I’d forgotten anything.  Immediately came the direction: You’ll need $15.  Fold the bills and cover the ten-dollar bill with the five.  Have it ready to give someone.

I wonder if God didn’t think sometimes he should have had me named yahbut, as once again my immediate response was to ask, “How will I know who to give it to?”  You will know by the look on her face.

What would you do next?  I folded the bills as directed, placed them in an easily accessible spot in my purse and then began imaginating what that ‘look’ looked like. 

There is wonder, excitement, and awe in these experiences, but there is also fun and laughter.  I went to sleep thinking of all the possibilites of how God might plan to being together at least two women from different places.  The truth was simpler – and more amazing – than my imagination could (something more active)

I opened my eyes and knew.  I’d dreamed of the woman at the conference to whom the money was directed.

God has an amazing sense of humor.  He knew that I would be curious, but that I had lessons to learn at the conference too and he did not want me to be distracted about the mission.  Now that I knew who I was looking for, I would not need to be looking about for direction.  I could fully listen to the messages and glean the truths God would bring through Liz Curtis Higgs.

Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz came to life that morning for several hundred women.  we laughed, cried and sighed as as the redemptive story unfolded. during one break I’d had a photo taken with the speaker, Liz Curtis Higgs, when I heard a discussion behind me.

Oh, no! I can´t believe you don´t take credit cards.  I so wanted to get a cd for my friend I brought to the conference. 

And for you, the friend reminded.

I turned to look and there was the girl in the dream showing a $5 bill to the clerk, and saying, this is all the cash I have. The cds were $10, confirming the amount I´d been directed to share.

¨You´re the one! I burst out, and then reached into my purse.

An astonished young woman turned to me.  God told me to bring this and to give it to you, I told her. She reached out to my hand, seeing only the top bill, thanking me while instantly making a decisión.

Now I can send this home with my friend she said, her eyes and voice full of meaning.

I turned to go as the clerk accepted the money from the girl´s hand and handed a cd to her friend, when the clerk cried out ‘ Wait ‘ there´s more here ‘ you both can get one.  The girl grabbed my arm, halting my exit.  How…what…she began, sputtering excited questions.   I couldn´t help but laugh. 

I´m just as excited as you are, I said, to be a part of God´s delivering a blessing. I looked to the friend also while explaining that God loved them and must have an important message on the cd that He wanted them to hear. Listen carefully, I reminded, and swiftly exited the room as the buzzer sounded, reminding us to return to our seats.

Women laughed and cried through the skillful telling of a story most had heard a hundred times before.  Yet Ruth, Naomi and Boaz were no longer just names but we felt their personalities, their burdens, and their joys.

My joy that day included seeing the friend who´d received the first cd join about 50 others in responding to a call for prayer after the telling of the final chapter.

Usually reticent about lifting my toneless voice in public, I surprised my daughters by singing out the song of rejoicing. God was in our presence.  Amen and amen. 

Deep clean the cupboards, refrigerator/freezer, empty the closet, look under the cushions, dump out my purse and pockets, thin out and rearrange the attic, make room in the garage for the car, and certainly detox my body. Whew. Spring is coming and once again the load is lightened…or is it?

A couple weeks ago when the revival began at a college in Asbury, KY, I checked it out. I’m fortunate as I have connections in writers’ groups with people I know and trust – people who live in Asbury, have a child in the college, or attended the college themselves. One word kept repeating through all the responses.

Repentance.

Now there is deep cleaning.

I know I’ve referred to the little booklet My Heart, Christ’s Home before. In it Munger describes our lives as a house and relates each room to those parts of our lives (kitchen – food, fellowship, living room – reading, watching entertainment), and so on, leaving the worst for last – the closets. The secrets. The things we don’t want to deal with.

Recently it seems verses about tents keep coming up. When that happens and I sense a theme, I start hunting out the verses of the theme until I learn something new. In Isaiah 54 the Jewish church is told to stretch out their outreach (to encompass new spiritual children from the Gentiles).

Isaiah 54″2 “Enlarge the place of your tent,
    stretch your tent curtains wide,
    do not hold back;
lengthen your cords,
    strengthen your stakes.

I found the original meaning behind the word tent was not home like in Munger’s allegory, but tabernacle/temple as in place of worship, and so I began praying about my temple. My soul. I do not have the power to make my soul larger, but I do have the ability to clean it out and make room for God’s holy filling.

I thought of my experience of receiving the Holy Spirit when I received Christ. I got all of the Spirit – but did I give access to the Spirit to all of me? Had I given Him full access from time to time, then refilled that space with “little idols” of stuff, food, dreams? When I detox my body I feel lighter, brighter and more eager to follow after what made my body healthier and stronger. When I clear out a room or a bookshelf, a closet or a handbag, suddenly there is also a lightness – spaciousness – for what is more important than the clutter I’d not touched for ages.

Could it be the same for my soul?

I picture me clearing my tent/temple of the Holy Spirit – enlarging the available space. I stretch the curtains wide (exposing – not hiding anything from the Lord) – repenting, cleansing, letting the fresh Spirit air flow through. Then and only then am I ready to reach out – lengthen my cords, making room to eagerly welcome others. I invite them in, not to see all my stuff, but to celebrate my space.

Then I strengthen my stakes.

Now I am not a camper, but I’ve seen tents, and I know the stakes are to keep the tent grounded.

Ephesians 2:19-20 says how important this is: 

Do whatever it takes to be thoroughly grounded in the truth. (God’s Word)

And Ephesians 3:17-19

That Christ may dwell (be at home) in your hearts through faith —that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God”

It’s the difference of preparing for company for a few hours and inviting a loved one to make their home with you – with access to every secret place.

Revival.

Prepare your temple to welcome His Spirit that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

Have you ever noticed the words we remember the most?  We hopefully will remember the kind words, compliments, and undeserved words of grace. They encourage us and think in wonder that others see God in us despite the truth of our failings.

But there are other kinds of words also stored in our minds– dark whispers, angry shouts, and words that poke like thorns upon remembrance. Words said to us without kindness or grace. Those words are hard to forget.

Yesterday I hurt someone with my words. What I said did not represent what I truly thought of them. I care for that person! I worry those unkind words may well stick in their hearts the same way others’ thoughtless barbs have stuck in mine. I hope my apology and future actions and words can someday override my thoughtlessness.

Ephesians 4:29 tells us to “Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear.” NASB

My first failing was even before the first word came out of my mouth. It was the first word in that verse… I let.  I could have stopped the cruel words before they ever hit the air waves, instead remembering to use life-giving words. Why? Because I did not go to God before I opened my mouth.  I let emotion, not the Spirit, rule my response.

They say hurting people tend to hurt others. I found that true in myself as I lashed out in response to the hurt I was feeling. The irony was, as I spoke unkindly, I actually was stirring up the same emotions in them that would make them want to respond back in anger to me. Choosing that path will never end well.

Practicing giving God control of our tongues involves remembering to stop, ask for grace, and to determine to speak only words that build up. Words that will last in a positive way. Even the hardest truth can be delivered with compassion and grace.

Imagine if we all made Ephesians 4:29 our standard! How different so many of our conversations would be. What if we took a few seconds and asked God to help us season our words with grace? When I remember to ask for God’s perspective, I can see my potentially damaging words for what they are—an emotional reaction. When we determine to follow His lead, an amazing thing will happen: people will respond with grace in return.

Stopping to ask God what we should say next may cause some quiet (and possibly uncomfortable) moments, as He helps us sift out unwholesome communication. But wouldn’t you rather those speaking into your life take the time to remove the thorn before they hand you the rose?

“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” Proverbs 15:1 NIV 

A childhood memory

It was kind of handy for my parents to have the only grocery store in our little town – and to have the store be in what used to be the living room.  I guess dad started the store right before I was born in 1943, so Mom would have some money in case Dad got sent to war.  But Dad didn’t get sent and now I’m 11 and we have the first TV in town right in our living-room store.

 Most everyone from town stops in our house every week to get something from the store (while they check out one of the few TVs in town and watch it awhile), and then they catch up on the news. My older sister Marlene gets to help after school. She gets cookies out of the bins and puts them in bags. And Junior – well, he likes to lean on the glass counter looking important until Dad sends him to deliver something on the bike, but I mostly watch the babies while Mom takes care of the customers.  I don’t think my parents know that many times I am on the other side of the swinging kitchen door listening to all the adults talking.  For some time now they have been making plans to get our little town its first fire-house.  Ever since the Larsen’s house burned down last year because it took so long for the volunteer firemen to get there, everyone has been talking about it.  Most everyone is willing to help and pay some money except for two families – the Bolingers and the Nettlers. 

They remind me of stories I’ve read about people in the hills down south who have family feuds and teach their children not to talk to someone just because of what their last name is.  It seemed funny to me that the Bolingers and Nettlers are against everyone  – even each other.   The Nettlers don’t seem so bad to me but they live in one of the big fancy houses on the rich side of town and I don’t see them so much, but right before we’d moved to this house the Bolingers had lived right next door!  One time I took an apple from a branch that was hanging over into our yard and Mr. Bolinger yelled and yelled at me, and called me a thief.  All the kids are scared of him, and one Halloween the big boys put a bucket of water over his door and knocked and ran when he came out and got dunked.  I think even the grown-ups don’t like the Bolingers because I heard Mrs. Kirchman complaining about the Bolingers one day in the store, and then I heard Mom’s voice saying “Hurting people hurt others.”  I heard Mom coming toward the kitchen then and ran outside, but all afternoon I wondered how the Bolingers got hurt, and how it helped for them to hurt others. It was a riddle that kept me up that night.

That was about a month ago, and I still go over and over in my mind what might have happened if that riddle hadn’t kept my imagination going and I was tossing and turning in my sleep.  It was the middle of the night when I woke up all of a sudden.  I just sat up straight like a shot. It was pitch dark and I thought I heard something in the house.  Sure enough as I sat there, I heard a soft thud and then another one.  I got out of bed and tiptoed over the cold floor to my big sister’s bed, but Marlene was fast asleep and I wondered if what she had said was true – that my imagination was always running away with me.  Maybe I had only dreamed it – and I turned to go back to bed, but no – there it was again – out toward the hall.  I edged out of our room into the hallway to see where the sound was coming from and it seemed to be coming from above me – by the big square of wood that Dad sometimes pushed open to put stuff in the attic.

 I stood in the hallway a minute looking up at that square in the ceiling and listened really hard.  I heard some crackly sounds and just about flew downstairs to my parents’ room to tell them, but the door was closed and that meant privacy.  I stood in the moonlight from the big living room window mom just got put in and was so proud of.  My feet were cold on the floor but I was worried – what if I woke my parents up and it was just my imagination like Marlene said – would they get mad at me?  But what if SOMETHING was in the attic?  I shivered and this time my imagination did get the better of me so I BANGED on Dad and Mom’s bedroom door.  I was scared when the door opened so quick and Dad was suddenly right in front of me wearing his white long johns, his hair all messy and, what scared me the most, was that Dad looked scared. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked me real loud.  For a second I couldn’t talk, and then my voice croaked – “Upstairs – there’s something upstairs.  I heard noise”.  “What kind of noise?” Dad asked.  Thumping and snapping sounds, I told him, by the attic door, and Dad just RAN.  He went to the back hall and grabbed the ladder and ran up the stairs with it.  He put it under the big wood square trap door in the hall ceiling and pushed it up.  The whole attic was full of huge orange flames!  Dad shut the trap door and yelled – get your sisters – grab some clothes and get outside. I’ll get your brothers.  I ran to my room and woke my sister up yelling, FIRE!  Boy, you never saw her move so fast.  We each grabbed an armful of stuff, not even looking to see what we grabbed.  She picked up little Marvel and we ran out to the front yard.  That’s when I saw something I will never forget – it did something even bigger to my heart than seeing the fire.

You see our house was at the bottom of town, and most of the houses were up on a big hill right in front of our street.  I could hear the fire bell clang and lights were going on all over the hill.  The Cornings, the Schmidts, Sheriff Renold’s house, and Oh! The Bollinger’s and the Nettler’s places had lit up too!  As scared as we were as we stood there holding hands on the lawn with the fire behind us, we couldn’t take our eyes off the lights on the hill.  Marvel was still asleep over my big sister’s shoulder and I could see Marlene was crying when she turned toward me and whispered,  “They’re all coming – we’ll be OK”.  I felt strange and warm inside to think that we were the hurting people now and all those people were coming to help us – even the Bolingers and the Nettlers. 

It was then we heard our big brother Junior calling us from up in the tree house by the street.  He had Baby Lee up there with him and we climbed up and watched Dad and our two closest neighbors, Mr. Miller and Mr. Jackson break Mom’s new picture window and throw stuff out on the lawn.  Junior was almost 16, and I think he was kind of mad that Dad made him watch the baby, because he shoved the baby at my sister and yelled that it was real interesting how quick she got up there ‘cause yesterday when his friend Gary (that my sister likes) was up there, she acted so scared and got Gary to help her up.  Then he ran down and disappeared into the house with other people who had come to help.  I told my sister what Mom had said about hurting people hurting others and I told her then how scared Dad looked when I woke him up.  I thought nobody’s Dad ever got scared, and if Dad was scared, Junior must be scared too. She said “Yeah, I guess you’re right”, and we got all quiet thinking about it.   

We sat there in the dark and hugged with Baby Lee and Marvel between us until Lee began to cry.  Then we looked down, and it seemed like practically all the men in town were there running in and out of our house.  Finally, the fire was out and there was a big dark hole up where my bedroom had been.  Pretty soon after that Junior came back all messy like he’d been playing in the dirt like a little kid.  He told Marlene he was real sorry he yelled at her before and she looked right past him at the house and whispered, “Yeah, I know”. 

We all got down from the tree house then, and Marlene carried Baby Lee on her hip while we all walked around the house and looked and looked.  The men had nailed boards over the hole that used to be the big living room window and there were big stripes of black (from the smoke I guess) that ran down the front of the house. Mom and Dad came out with a bunch of other people and Mom told us we’d be sleeping at Aunt Angie’s tonight.  Uncle Tony came over and hugged us, and said Auntie was getting the beds ready and we would go with him soon.  I saw Mr. Nettler slip something lumpy in my Dad’s shirt pocket, and then everybody all over our front lawn was hugging and telling us how they could help and everything would be OK. 

I must have had a hundred hugs that night and suddenly there was Mr. Bolinger in front of me.  I didn’t think he’d ever hugged anyone in his life, and I kind of stepped back at first when he leaned down near me.  He cleared his throat and said “Girlie, I’m sorry I been such a grouch. I’ll bring you all the apples from my trees you want, and Mrs. Bolinger will make some pies tomorrow and bring them to your Auntie’s house.  You tell your Mom that, OK?”  I felt all teary and couldn’t answer; so I just stood there and nodded, and then he hugged me real quick and walked off fast toward his house.  I just stood there for a minute, kinda shocked, you know, and then I looked up at the stars all twinkly and peaceful like they knew something wonderful had just happened.  I didn’t know Mom was there until her voice softly whispered, “It’s a miracle!” and her hand closed around mine as we walked in the moonlight to Auntie’s car.

There is nothing like publication to get a writer and author excited!

I am thrilled to have two more stories in Chicken Soup for the Soul publications.  The most recent – Miracles and the Unexplainable, released September 13. 

I also recently signed a contract with Guideposts for a story to be published in a James Scott Bell compilation– Gods Constant Presence, and I am honored to be one of eight writers selected to participate in the 2022 Guideposts Writer Workshop – a workshop focusing on training and developing attendees to become contributing writers and content creators for all Guideposts publications and platforms.

Great pleasure is found through encouraging new writers or want-to-be writers. Welcome Deborah and Carmen to the tribe!

I hope to soon publish ebooks of material I have been sharing – I Want to Write a Book and I’ve Written a Book – Now What?

Gratefulness abounds in the many requests I’ve had for a follow-up to my book Be the Miracle.
The most popular title suggested is Never Miss a Miracle! What do you think?

Delores

~Delores Liesner~

“A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.” Proverbs 16:9.

A couple of months ago I felt God telling me to sell our smaller car. We were avoiding using it due to the low fuel economy. We figured maybe God wanted us to try going without the second car for awhile.

Two days after we sold it, we decided we needed a second car ASAP.

I started searching and researching. We needed a small car with good fuel economy, low mileage, and a backup camera…all within our low budget. Some car dealers laughed or hung up. One tried to make me a deal on a car that was already sold with pickup scheduled the following day. I refused, and told him if he would do that to another customer he could do that to me.

Then the emails came. All four in one day.

First a Christian dealer: Wait. (Implying I should be waiting on God.)

Next our son: Mom, what are you doing? You said you were going to try one car.

Daughter: Mom, TWO DAYS 😦 – are you sure God wants you doing this? (By now I’m convicted because I hadn’t asked Him).

The fourth email was a meme with this message: Are you asking God to open and close doors? Then get your hand off the doorknob!

Ok, God. I cancelled all car searches and put my trust back in Him.

A week later I got a call from my cousin Elaine telling me our cousin Joan had died. I was the executor of her will. Hours after I got to town, Joan’s caregiver called to tell me that Joan had instructed her to tell me she’d bought the car. “What do you mean?” I asked. “She told me she leased the car.”

Her reply stunned me. “After a few months of lease payments, she asked what the payment difference would be to buy it. Only $50. So she bought the car so she could leave it to you!”

This car is one of the most economical small cars on the road. It has only 10,000 miles on it. It has a backup camera! I realized then that the reason God led me to sell our little old car was to make room for something better!

Is there something you are scrambling to resolve with one hand gripping the doorknob? Let go! Let God. He has a wonderful surprise in store for you!

On sale date is September 13th!  #CSSMiraclesandtheunexplainable

Im excited my two stories, (# 46 and #86) are part of these 101 true stories of unexplainable happenings that will lift your spirit and bring hope.

I’ve had many experiences like these, and multiple friends have shared stories of God’s intervention in their lives. Have you had circumstances happen that answered a prayer, a need, or gave resolution in such a way or timing that it was unexplainable?

I am very excited to have another Chicken Soup book on my shelf with an example of God working in my life. It gives me great hope to remember what God has done in the past and hope for the future.

Great gift —- You can preorder this book now https://bit.ly/3cxxYe4

I met Kay at a public event and after realizing we originally met 30 years prior, we got to catching up on all that had gone by.  We both have active faith but Kay wanted a deeper knowledge about God.  We talked about the difference between knowing about God and knowing God in a spiritual relationship.  She asked if she could call me once a week and then Covid shut down our world and her income was running low.  A widow now, she shared that she needed a job, but who would hire a disabled woman close to retirement age with limited part-time job experience and deceased potential references?  The odds were stacked against her and she had a pretty low self-image. I wanted to help Kay, but wasn’t sure how I could.  It appeared impossible.

Because of our schedules, contact restrictions and Kay’s challenges job applications via computer were out. With the pandemic even job interviews were no contact. As impossible as it seemed, the more Kay and I talked about her needs and her love for seniors, the more I felt drawn to help her. But how?

Kay and I chatted on the phone several times a week and she expressed that she was a person of faith and believed that God would provide her a job and part of that job hunt was our meeting. She joked that I was like an angel and we laughed at the picture I described of my guardian angel holding her head in her hands in exhaustion.  Kay had the faith of a child and inspired me to keep praying for help.   After she read a book that I wrote which quoted scripture from an easy to read version, she called me excited, asking if I wrote that page.  I explained about various translations of the Bible and her voice was animated with joy as she exclaimed, “I could understand it!  You mean there’s a whole a Book out there like that?” Yes, I told her, let’s pray for the right one. The next day, I took a neighbor to a doctor appointment and she asked if we could stop at a resale shop on the way home. There, of course, I found an easy to read version of the Bible.

Kay’s faith was building from that experience and she exclaimed if God will do that, He would find me a job, too!  

We thanked God for that answer and talked about the various ways God had helped each of us in the past.  What a faith building conversation!  She asked if I would continue praying for the job that would allow her to help others and something she could do within her limitations.  How could I say no. 

Of course, when God asks me to do something my next action is usually to ask God what I can DO?  I could go on the computer and look for a job even though she couldn’t.

My eyes glazed over after looking for hours – online applications only, add resume, references…all the usual.  Was I praying or whining when I whispered – God help – am I wasting my time?  I’m not sure. But… just then a full-page ad popped up.  It was for a senior companion and it said apply online OR IN PERSON.

I quickly printed off the 8×11 ad and mailed it to Kay.  She called me several days later, her voice elated, to tell me “I got a job and boy do I have a story to tell you! I had the strangest but nicest interview ever,” she said.  She explained how she went to the address on the ad and asked the woman there if she took job applications, then handed the woman the ad and said she would like to apply for a job, any job working with seniors.  

The woman looked at the ad a few moments, turned the paper over and asked her where she got the ad.  Kay admitted she thought she was going to get booted out because the woman typed some in the computer and looked up puzzled before she said, “I have not seen that ad, I did not place it/WE did not place it.  But…as long as you are here, tell me about yourself.”  Kay told a couple stories about opportunities she had in the past to encourage or help a senior and how fulfilling she found it. She also explained why she could not use a computer. 

The lady was quiet a moment and then she said, “You know what, I believe you are just the type of person we are looking for…someone who can bring joy to some lonely seniors.   Let’s fill out that application together.”  Very patiently, the lady asked Kay each question and then typed Kay’s answers into the computerized application.  When they were done she reached behind her as she told K she was confident they could find the right fit for her, and she handed her a company shirt (uniform) and said to wait for their call.   They soon called and gave her several small assignments. She is companion for a few seniors, each a few hours a day, and does little household and shopping errands for others who are housebound. 

The following week Kay called, her voice escalating with excitement as she reviewed how the seniors have become more joyful and upbeat since she started.  She reported her boss said the families of her clients are happy with her work and they are still mystified where that ad came from as no one else saw it, and searching found no such online ads from their company – only the typical listing for hiring agencies saying you must apply online.  

I wished I’d kept a copy and started searching while we chatted on the phone. Kay’s laughter interrupted me. “I know what you are doing,” she said, “but you won’t find it.  It doesn’t matter if it is there now, anyway,” she continued, “it was there the day and the minute it was needed.”

The impossible happened.  Kay finished her story, saying she thanked the woman for the encouragement and the nicest interview ever.  The woman smiled and raised her eyebrows when Kay leaned in and whispered I think my guardian angel posted that ad. It was an answer to prayer.  “You may be right,” her new boss replied, “you were an answer for us too!”

I am never satisfied with the pictures I take of myself.  Perhaps because my ‘selfies’ reveal too much physical truth.

I should be more concerned whether they reveal the real truth.

What is my real truth?  It is my spiritual selfie –Me and the Spirit – Who God says I am, not who I think I am, not just what I think I see, not dependent on what I feel, and no matter what those condemning thoughts try to reduce me to.

I am

Who and what

God says I am.

I found this documentation I completed years ago. I was dismayed at first to realize on one hand, I apparently needed to learn these lessons again, and then realized how Biblical and comforting cycles are.

The foundation of this Spiritual Selfie is John 15:5 – I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit;

Three points of John 15:5

1. Christ IS life. That life is in me according to His promise
2. I am His fruit-bearing branch, dependent on Christ
3. It is my choice to remain in him (focus – my one thing) and He will remain in me as much as I allow Him

I am learning to grow fruit, vegetables and herbs.  The growth and development of the main portion of the plant, sustains the branches and the health of the branches supports the development of fruit on them. But before I see the growth I have to prepare the soil to accept the plant, place guards and protection against invaders (critters, pests, storms), and lovingly tend the branches.

That compares to both my physical life (health giving food, water and exercise [pruning] sustaining the core so I can be healthful and productive) and my spiritual (eternal me) life being fed, watered and pruned to produce.

I have tried to help branches survive off the vine. Not only have they not borne fruit, they withered and died. I’ve also overworked myself and seen vines over-pruned so they collapsed. This lesson teaches me that I must look for strength (not within the branch of self) but within the vine.

I struggle to be a clean conduit (branch from the vine to the fruit), yet according to the Word Jesus has spoken I am clean already. Why do I waste so much time and effort maintaining an untruth?  Instead, I must abide (live, rest, consistently trust) in Him so I can bear healthy fruit. I must remember, the more I withdraw from the vine the harder it is to reconnect.

Changes in my life from this passage –

One — I used to struggle whether I was worthy of living- or rather that by living I would do more harm than good, and the enemy had convinced me that Verse 13 (to lay down ones life for another) was actually encouraging suicide. That victory was won years ago when I heard a man explain that truly laying down ones life could perhaps be harder than giving up ones life, because it means to keep on living while giving up ones “rights”.

Two – it is my choice to accept offenses or to remove the “suckers” that would drain my strength and not allow His life to flow through me.  Some of those could be of my own making – not tending to myself (physically and spiritually) as I should: (water, food 3x a day, rest, fellowship and pruning).

Three – It is also my choice whether I respond to feelings or to truth. But even if I make the wrong choice, that does not change the real truth of who and what I am in Christ.

What is your real truth? 

When things happen in the haze of early morning awakening there is no evidence of reason – it’s simply panic – especially if the wife is in menopausal fog.

The evening before I’d been restless, out of sorts hormonally, and as my easy-going hubby had learned from experience, was best left alone to beat “it” into submission through a fit of cleaning.  Rearranging the basement pantry at the bottom of the stairs, including moving the freezer by hip-sliding it back and forth had effectively exhausted the jittery nerves.  I sighed and turned around, tripping on the blue laundry basket – my original reason for a basement trek.   Shaking my head at the mysteries of menopause, I popped the clothes into the washer and headed upstairs to bed totally unaware of what would hit us in the morning.

Late hours dragging a loaded freezer had taken its toll, and the alarm startled me. Shaking off the drugged feeling, I headed for the basement to move my work clothes to the dryer. Padding down the stairs, I admired the neat pantry shelves, then turned to the freezer’s new location and stared in horror at the puddle of water eddying out beneath the freezer.  What on earth?   Had the old freezer I’d bought from my dad ‘given up the ghost’ during the night?  Could I have broken something sliding it across the cement floor? I opened the door and stared in confusion. The light came on. I could hear the motor humming. Clumps of ice and frost I should have removed weeks ago were still frozen, but large drips of water were falling from shelf edges and pooling at the freezer’s base.  It must have just started thawing.   My screech “Ken, hellllllp!” brought my dear retired hubby tearing down the stairs, bleary, but wide-eyed and ready to rescue his woman.  I sheepishly reported that it was the freezer that needed rescuing.  It seemed to be thawing but was still running. 

Mystified, my fix-anything man seemed flummoxed and we agreed I should call in late to work and request a house call from a 24-hour appliance repairman.  He was already out on another call, so I left a message. While waiting for him to come, we decided to empty the freezer in case we had to repair or replace it.  Our neighbors, who also left for work early, loaned us several coolers for the freezer contents and delivered them minutes later. They turned to leave with a warning not to stand in any water if I was going to use a hair dryer to melt the ice.

I’d never tried that, so as soon as our mini assembly line transferred the freezer’s contents to the coolers and the floor was mopped up, Ken plugged the hair dryer in the socket above the freezer and I became Annie Oakley with an “ice-gun”.  Large chunks of  ice soon began to melt when whoosh!  Flames shot out from the hair dryer.  “Hot flash!” Ken yelled, pulling the plug, and teasing me because just yesterday I’d opened the freezer to cool down from a flash of my own.  Sleepy chuckles grew to laughter as he ducked into the workroom area of the basement blowing at the still smoking hairdryer like a cowboy with his six-shooter.  

“Coward,” I chuckled, returning to the freezer.  Figuring that Ken was retreating from my menopausal tidal wave, I developed a plan, setting a bucket behind me and to the right to catch chunks of ice as they loosened, then ran to the kitchen and put a few pans of water on to boil.   I didn’t know that Ken, intending to help me, had gone upstairs to put on jeans and slippers.

Back in the basement I slid the steaming pans on the shelves and was soon chipping at the loosened ice, so I did not hear Ken come up behind me and move the bucket to the left so he could take over for me.  I heard his yelp though because it was at that moment I grabbed the first huge fistfuls of dripping ice and tossed them over my shoulder to where I’d placed the bucket, hitting his bare chest instead.    “Where were you,” he gasped, “when the curling iron had a hot flash?” 

We burst into gales of laughter again and were laughing so hard we did not hear the doorbell ring.  The sound of chimes in the background finally registered and Ken ran up to answer the door, automatically flipping the light switch as he bounded up the stairs. “Hey!” I yelled, and he stopped and turned the light back on with a groan and a loud  “Oh, no” as his steps paused, then continued up to answer the door.  Curious about Ken’s moaning, I joined the men in the foyer, just in time to hear Ken explain to the youthful repairman that he’d figured out the problem on the way up from the basement. 

When he turned the light off, he’d remembered seeing a second plug in the outlet when we’d used the hair dryer.  He realized that I’d plugged the freezer into the outlet on the light socket.  When I turned the light off the night before as I went upstairs, I’d actually turned off the freezer too, and then turned it back on when I went down this morning.   We looked at each other and burst out laughing again. 

The repairman sheepishly watched us a moment, and, as though afraid of our reaction, slowly said, “I hate to tell you but you’ll still have to pay $40 for a house call.”  We chuckled again and told him it was still better than we’d hoped as we’d expected to have to replace the freezer.

We invited him into the kitchen and while Ken was writing out the check the repairman turned to me and said, “Well, as long as the freezer has been off during the night you might want to clean it out. “  Before I could tell him that we’d already started, he continued, advising,  “You could speed up the thaw with a hair dryer…” Ken’s twinkling eyes met mine and we couldn’t stop the giggles that welled up.  Our laughter grew and when we finally paused for air, Ken hiked up his shoulders in a manly survival pose “Already tried that he gasped, adding sometimes“you’ve just got to laugh.”

Ken of course offered shared the gospel when he handed over the payment for a non-service call. The bemused young man smiled, seemed to study us a moment longer, then shook his head and confirmed that he’d never met a couple quite like us. (Living examples of I Peter 2:9 – a peculiar people )

We were smart enough not to ask him what he meant.