Uncategorized

Have you ever known anyone that didn’t recognize his spiritual gift; yet it was very apparent to others? I know such a person and his gift played a part in my life this last week.

1 Corinthians 12:28 talks about some of these different gifts, one of which is the gift of helps. And Romans 12 :7 tells us that if you have the gift of serving others, serve them well. It is obvious to me that this friend has this gift. I’ve picked this up from conversations we’ve had, but this week I experienced it personally. Let me tell you the story.

Ivan and his wife, Arlene, belong to the same Bible Study group that I do. We call ourselves the Youth Group; although this title is a bit misleading. Jan, another member, jokingly called us the Youth Group one day and it stuck. We meet every week and rotate homes to gather in. In between meetings we communicate by group text.

As a senior citizen and living alone, I have been made to promise to let someone know before engaging in risky behavior. So….it was just natural for me to send out a text to the group this week regarding my planned activity for the afternoon. My text read: Hi guys. I’m going to go clean my gutters and will be on my roof. It usually takes me about an hour. I just like to let someone know when I’m up on the roof. I will let you know as soon as I’m down. I’ll have my phone with me.

Unbeknownst to me, several texts were being fired back, but I was already focused on lugging the cumbersome ladder into the flower bed, while keeping my balance. Heavy ladders are a bit of a challenge for my 5 foot fine-boned frame. If you’ve formed a picture of a vertically challenged woman trying to control an aluminum ladder that’s waving in the air six feet above her head…that’s fairly accurate.

Bucket in hand, I clamber up the ladder. Once I get to the top and contemplate how I will maneuver over to the roof, I realize it would have been smart to have left the back gate unlocked in case things didn’t go according to plan. I give a sigh of relief when my feet are solidly planted on the roof. I have a fear of edges so I sit down quickly. My posterior has a wider base than my size six feet; I feel more secure contacting the roof with my largest part.

If it’s a nice warm day, like it was this day, I enjoy the view from the roof. I think it’s quite entertaining to watch people as they walk by – having no idea they are under surveillance. The things people say to their dogs!

I scooted along on the back side of the house, throwing gutter contents into my bucket. When you’re not doing a pleasant job, there’s still satisfaction in knowing you are getting the job done. That’s what I was thinking about as well as relishing in the thought that I had picked a beautiful day to do it. I finished up on the back side of the roof and made my way to the other side. As I step over the roof ridge (standing up now that I’m away from the edge), I get a surprise. Instead of just dogs and neighbors passing by, there was Maridel and Ivan standing in my yard – both fellow members of the Youth Group. “What are you guys doing here?” I called down from the roof. “Coming to help you,” Ivan said. “And I came over to make sure you hadn’t fallen and broken your neck,” Maridel said. She admitted to being scared of heights so seeing I was fine, she went home to bake cookies. I never expected all this attention!

No matter what I said, Ivan would not be persuaded to stay on the ground. We worked steadily until the gutters were slime, mud, and leaf free.

Gotquestions.org states that some see the gift of helps as given to those who are willing to “lend a hand” and do even the most mundane and disagreeable tasks with a spirit of humility and grace. That’s Ivan – even if he doesn’t know it. How many jobs can you think of that are as mundane as cleaning gutters? He will likely be helping people until he no longer can. I don’t imagine that will be any time soon. After all – he’s only 87.

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

This past week, my sister and I took a road trip to Wisconsin. Our initial reason for planning this trip was to visit our last remaining aunt and uncle. We soaked up the stories Uncle Wendell and Aunt LeVila told while we relaxed in their living room. We asked many questions and they graciously answered every one of them. Not that they don’t enjoy telling stories – after all, they owned and produced the weekly Muscoda paper for decades. I was four years old when my dad and Uncle Wendell loaded up his and Aunt LeVila’s belongings into Dad’s stock truck and we took off for a world too far away. Revisiting these memories from so long ago was indeed delightful, but we found other gems along the trip as well. Once I got home and reviewed all we had seen and done, it came to mind, that as beautiful as the autumn is in Wisconsin with its peaceful hillsides of reds, oranges, yellows and left-over greens, the ultimate take home for me was the building up and knitting together of past relationships.

Traveling down highway 20 on our way home, we detoured off the road a couple of miles to the tiny village of McLean NE where our folks grew up and became best friends. The old Methodist Church where Mom and Dad were confirmed and then married; where all three of us kids were baptized, and where my Grandma Esther played the piano, still stands – barely. The boards are more gray than white now, and windows are boarded up. Time races on and things change, but it was a pleasant feeling to remember the people that had gathered there on Sunday mornings when I was a child, some of them family, but all of them friends. Most of those family and friends have gone on to sing bass, tenor, and soprano in heavenly choirs.

That same day we toured McLean, we visited with my cousin, Barb, and her daughter in the nearby town of Randolph. Barb grew up in McLean as well and she filled us in on some of the folks we had known in the past. We learned that Sue Voss, a past Sunday school teacher in that McLean church resided now at the nursing home in Randolph. My thoughts were taken back to flannel board characters, “Jesus Loves Me”, and making church buildings with the interlaced fingers of our hands. How many of you remember….this is the church, this is the steeple, open up the doors and see all the people?

A pleasant young man offered to show us Sue’s room. She was sitting in the chair when Connie and I stepped through the open door and into her private room. Neither of us had seen Sue since Grandma Esther’s funeral; exactly 20 years prior. Sue was, of course, caught off guard by our impromptu visit. I introduced us as DeLila and Connie – Ruth and Paul’s daughters.

Immediately, Sue exploded in excitement.

“David Paul, DeLila Ruth, Connie Jean!” she clapped with enthusiasm. Connie and I both agreed later that we had never seen someone express such excitement over anything. It was obvious we had made Sue’s day, but in turn, she made ours. It was truly another delightful experience. Before we left, she stood and gave each of us a prolonged and deep hug.

Hebrews 13:7 reminds us to not forget the example of our spiritual leaders who have spoken God’s messages to us. Sue had been a dedicated Sunday school teacher, teaching in that church for as long as I attended. And Hebrews 10:25 tells us not to neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another. I am so glad we took the time to visit Sue -I could say it was worth every minute, but really…it was priceless.

Connie and I were so blessed by each of our meetings with family and friends on this adventure. It will be a memory well preserved and if you can’t tell….I’ve become an overnight fan of road trips.

Until next time…Keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

How many times do we take the time or thoughtfulness to compliment a total stranger? I know I don’t do it nearly enough. Often, I will say something nice to the clerk that checks me out at the grocery store, or the neighbor that lives two streets over when we meet at the mailboxes. But, I’m not talking about those we’ve seen in passing before and may again. I’m thinking of the person we will likely never see again; where we give a compliment and have nothing to gain from it. I tend to pass these people by, without much regard to what their world looks like.

This last week, however, I had such an encounter. I was traveling back to Spearfish from the family ranch in Nebraska. I nearly always stop at the gas station/McDonald’s on my way through Valentine, NE. As I made my way to the McDonald’s counter to order an iced tea, I noticed the elderly lady with a powder blue sweatshirt sitting at a table. Her blue eyes, the same color as her sweatshirt, stood out like the red door on a white church. The color popped, reminding me of my Dad’s kind, blue eyes.

I gathered my iced tea and headed for the door, ready to get on the road again. As I stepped down off the curb in front of my vehicle, I noticed the elderly lady a few steps behind me. I’m sure my words surprised her as much as they did me.

“You have the prettiest eyes,” I said. She looked startled at first that I had spoken and then her lips turned into a generous, gracious smile. It came as close to “lighting up a face” that I have ever seen.

In the next few minutes, I was welcomed into her world. Before the few minutes were over, I knew she had lost two sons in her 79 years of living. She lived in Missouri most of her life, but her “now” husband was claustrophobic and the Missouri landscape (even though he hid his affliction well) bothered him immensely. On a road trip to the Nebraska Sandhills to see family ten years ago, he excitedly exclaimed, “No trees!” They had made the decision then, that Valentine would be their new home. They never looked back and when I asked if they were glad they had moved, she answered, “Oh yes.”

After she shared a few more ups and downs of life, I wrapped my arm around her and squeezed. “Life is hard, but God is good,” I summarized. She nodded.

As I drove north out of Valentine, I wondered about the visit with the woman. Could it have been a divine appointment? The way her face lit up and her willingness to accept a hug, seemed to indicate it could have been. Psalms 37:23 says: When Yahweh delights in how you live your life, He establishes your every step.(The Passion Translation) According to S. Joseph Kidder, a professor of Christian Ministry, God arranges, and establishes the details of His children’s lives, including some unexpected divine appointments.

The meeting refreshed me, too. My heart felt good that total strangers could share smiles and some life experiences in a few brief moments when both are willing. I had been wrong – I gained something too, from giving a compliment to someone I would likely never see again. One thing we didn’t share were our names. It seemed there were more important purposes for this conversation than name exchanges. Divine appointments are like that.

Until next time – “keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.”

Sometimes God seems to have a sense of humor when teaching us things. He seems to think it’s great fun to turn the tables to make a point. At least he does it that way in my life. I think He knows that will get my attention and that’s exactly what happened to me this week. But before I tell you what happened, I need to give you some back story.

When I was working in small hospitals, where I profess that nurses are jacks of all trades but masters of none, my assignment would sometimes be labor and delivery. Throughout the years, I heard some creative names given to babies. There were the cute and clever names like Winter Storm, Rocky Cliff, and Forest Green. Other parents might name their kids after their favorite place to vacation such as Phoenix, Dakota, Brooklyn, and Austin. Some name them after favorite characters in their favorite novel. I know a little boy who’s name is Attichus from the book “To Kill A Mockingbird” and his sister’s name is Harper -the author of the same book. Some parents like to stick to a pattern such as giving their children all “J” names or “D” names.

These are just harmless, fun ways for parents to name a baby. But, I’ve wondered at the harmlessness of certain names, especially those that babies have to share with famous, non-reputable characters. For instance – the name Cain comes to mind – the first murderer in the Bible. And there’s Jezebel – the Israelite queen known for wickedness and vileness. And yes, I’ve known babies with these names. I honestly confess that I’ve had “attitude” with these parents and even shared my attitude about it with co-workers.

Fast forward to this week. I’m playing pickle-ball at the city’s outdoor courts. All six courts are full and Paul and I have drawn a “bye”. We grab our water bottles and sit on the bench beside Court One. Byes are often the only time to engage in chit-chat during the fast paced games. We use “bye time” to learn something about each other and share snippets of our personal lives. (We have less than 15 minutes.) Paul, being a direct kind of guy, didn’t waste any time.

“Of all the biblical names your folks could have named you, why did they name you DeLila?” It made me pause. I’ve always liked my name; an uncommon first name that balanced out my most common maiden name – Smith. And I always felt it was special to have been named after a favorite aunt. But Paul obviously thought of it just like I thought of Cain or Jezebel. Come to think of it, other than being persistent and relentless in a greed hungry scheme to unearth the secret of Samson’s strength, I can’t think of another reputable characteristic that Delilah owned.

Once recovered from Paul’s uninhibited question, I gave him an answer, I told him the story of my name. “I have an Aunt LeVila and my parents wanted to name me in honor of her. But to avoid confusion by having the very same name (she was LeVila Smith – married to my Dad’s brother) they named me DeLila.” I added a quick thought, “My middle name is Ruth – does that balance things out?”

Paul didn’t answer; just smiled. But, as I left the court that day, calling out my usual, “See everyone on Tuesday,” Paul called after me, “Bye, Ruth!”

“Okay, God…I get it,” I thought reflectively as I walked to the car. I’ll keep my attitude and opinions to myself about non-reputable names. Isn’t God a clever One?

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

I have a beautiful butterfly quilt made by my great-grandmother, Minnie Schultz, and I have the kerosene lamp that hung in their kitchen. These mean a great deal to me, because I remember my great -grandmother. She was a seamstress and I can imagine how she sat many hours beneath that lamp, hand-stitching many quilts – just like the two my sister and I have in our homes now. She found this a good way of using up scraps of fabric she had collected over the years as she sewed for those in her small community. I have chosen to display them in my home rather than to box them up and protect them to leave for the next generation.

They will mean more to me than anyone that follows because I had relationship with her. I am reminded of her sweet smile, her deaf ears, and her love of flowers whenever I glance at these two keepsakes. What could those that never knew her possibly think of when looking upon them?

In the book, Imagine Heaven, (New York Times Bestseller) author John Burke states, “Most of us don’t know the names of our great or great-great grandmothers and grandfathers. That’s only three or four generations removed from us, and we owe them our lives – yet they’ve already been forgotten. Even if they’ve been remembered, most names will be forgotten within a hundred years, and all will be forgotten eventually. Yet we all want to be remembered.”

In this same book that recounts numerous near death experiences, Dr. Richard Eby who plunged two stories headfirst to the sidewalk below after a railing gave way, recalls the first words the Lord said to him. “Dick, your dead!” This was a name that only his family and close friends called him. Dr. Eby believes this shows the intimacy the Lord has with those He created. When Dr. Eby asked the Lord why he called him “Dick”, the Lord answered, “When I died for you on the cross, it was a most intimate thing.”

Dr. Eby spent ten hours as a lifeless corpse, but he states that he never forgot how personally he is known and loved. Oh! If we could all have that wonderful assurance! It doesn’t seem so important to be remembered here on earth when we know how blessedly loved and remembered we are going to be in eternity.

There are many, many scripture verses about God’s love for us. One of my favorites is Zephaniah 3:17. The LORD your God is in your midst, A Warrior who saves. He will rejoice over you with joy; He will be quiet in His love (making no mention of your past sins), He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy. (Amplified Version) It tells us twice how much He rejoices over us. That’s to emphasize the importance of it and to make sure we hear it. Just as we would treat a most valued friend, He likes to spend time with us. He creates calmness with his love – never rubbing our sins in our face. And last but not least – He fights to save us. I can’t think of a better description of love.

How comforting it is to be reminded that we will NEVER be forgotten and always loved by the one that created us. He calls us by our most intimate names.

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.