Bite Your Tongue

By Jane Thornton –

“I know everything in the world.” Matthew, age five, piped this amazing assertion from the backseat as we drove along on daily errands.

Communication experts say to repeat what you hear to ensure your understanding. Managing to mask my doubts, I questioned, “You know everything in the world?”

“Yeah.”

“How did you learn everything in the world?” By this time, I had learned that further questions often revealed a wonderfully entertaining imagination.

“Brandon met the real Jesus, and he told me everything Jesus said.”

“Brandon met the real Jesus?”

“Yeah, and he said Jesus told him everything in the world, and he told me everything Jesus said. He even told him how to work a typerwrater.”

Although we could garner some great lessons from this precocious conversation on sharing the real Jesus with others, I want to focus on that first staggering statement. Sixteen years later, I sometimes think my son would still stake that claim.

My greater fear is that people might perceive a know-it-all attitude in me. I’ve been guilty before. An unforgettably humbling moment came at the hands of a co-worker in an elevator some twenty years ago. Although her exact words are lost, I remember clearly the sarcastic sting of her accusation that I always corrected their grammar. Scarier—I had been unaware of the obnoxious habit.

And obnoxious or not, I am still tempted to be didactic at every turn. I can justify such teacherishness in the classroom, but most companions find it very irritating outside of those bounds. (Actually, my students find it irritating, too, but endure because it’s my job.) At first, I preened when my critique partners called me a grammar guru. However, on second thought, perhaps to most of the world, that phrase is an insult!

Grammar forms only the tip of this dangerous iceberg. I grew up in a church with a history of hellfire and brimstone exclusivity. Even though my own home was full of teachings on grace, I apparently managed to pick up some of those condemnatory phrases. At one late night dorm session my freshman year, I had been holding forth on Truth, Justice, and Jane’s Way. My friend said, “So, you think you’re the only ones going to heaven?”

I gasped. No, no, no. How had I communicated the very sentiment I so opposed? Somehow—word, tone, expression . . . something—conveyed  a self-righteous attitude. Yet, we are called to share our faith and convictions. “Preach the Word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke, and encourage” (II Timothy 4:2a NIV).

As usual, we must find balance. I left off the end of that quote: “with great patience and careful instruction” (II Timothy 4:2b NIV).

Although not mentioned by that particular verse, prayer should precede our corrections. Does that public speaker really need his grammar error pointed out? Is that friend’s habit just a foible or a fault? Is it my place to be the teacher?

I pray for wisdom to balance the instructions in II Timothy with these: “My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry” (James 1:19 NIV).

Comment Prompt:  Share a time when you mis-communicated. Did you have a chance to work it out?

To Love and To Honor

By Carin LeRoy –

Years ago, a group of men at work complained about their wives during lunch break. Each man took turns and shared criticisms about his spouse. As my dad listened to them grumble and find fault, he finally stood and said, “My wife satisfies me.” Then he walked out. He was fed up listening to their gripes. I’m sure he made an impression as he interrupted their complaint session and abandoned the conversation. Although my mom and dad had a great marriage, they still had their disagreements. Instead of chipping in his criticism, he chose to respect my mother in front of others.

I’ve listened to others tell things on their spouse that were better left unsaid. Negative talk about our spouse in front of others does not show value or respect and can influence how others view him or her. Christ tells us to guard our tongue. Proverbs 10:19 says, “When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise.”

Let’s make a conscious effort to respect and honor our spouse. Don’t complain, criticize or devalue them before others. We did vow to love and honor them on our wedding day, so let’s keep that promise.

PRAYER: Lord, keep me mindful that criticizing my spouse before others is not helpful or wise. Help me to guard my words and show honor and respect in my marriage. May the words I speak give value, not harm, to my spouse.

BIBLE VERSE: “Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone,” (Colossians 4: 6 NIV).

Broken Inn

By Lori Freeland –

Through the tiny glass oval, I watched ant-size cars enlarge as my plane descended into Milwaukee. My morning coffee puddled in my stomach. Shoulders tight, I pulled my purse from under the seat and waited to deplane.

I questioned my decision to fly to Wisconsin to drive my mom to our family reunion in Ohio. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go—but locking two polar opposites in a Toyota Corolla for a day couldn’t end well. Could Laissez-faire Lori and Calendar Kay make it a day, let alone ten, without killing each other?

My mom picked me up and we switched seats. As we entered the ramp for 90/94, my phone rang.

She reached for it. “Talking and driving kills people.”

Miles later, she glanced at the speedometer. “Are you going eighty-five?”

I peeked at the gauge and lifted my foot. “No, I’m only going seventy-six.”

Halfway to Indiana, a theater sign jutted from the road. I changed lanes. “Want to take a break and see a movie?”

She frowned. “That’s not on our schedule.”

With a sigh, I shot past the exit. “How about a spontaneous latte?”

“Great.” She smiled. “I’ll buy.”

By the time we pulled into the motel parking lot to pick up the room key, my neck ached.

A stack of stained mattresses sat piled next to our room. I grimaced, having already paid online at a site where the hotel remains a mystery until you enter your credit card. Hoping the inside proved better than the outside, we swiped the key and went in.

I yanked off the blue floral comforters. My mom rested on the edge of her bed and held up the corner of the blanket.

Think camel hair. With burn holes.

She chuckled. “Did I tell you the news story about the bed bugs?”

I ripped off my blanket and scoured the white sheet for movement. “Can you see them?”

“Of course not. Otherwise people wouldn’t sleep on them.”

While I continued my sheet inspection, she went to the sink to wash her face. The faucet handle fell off.

I dialed the front desk. A monotone voice informed me we could switch rooms to one double bed or stay here with a broken sink. I thanked her for being so helpful and hung up.

I groaned. “What else is wrong with this room?”

Turned out a lot. The TV outlet protruded from a duct-taped hole in the wall. The towel rack had ripped out of the shower. And the corners of the bathroom floor contained various unknown debris. Each time we found a new disaster, my mom laughed louder.

I stared at the carpet with a frown, pulled on socks and sent my friend Tracy pictures of our motel debacle. She texted me back this song.

My faucet broke and my towel bars missin’
The A/C’s on and the grates are hissin’
Lord, bring me back to Texas! 

My mom grabbed the coffee pot off the counter. “I’m making some decaf. Want some?”

“There’s no water.”

“Sure there is.”

Watching her make coffee using faucet water from the tub sent me over the edge and I giggled so hard I fell off the bed. “I’m so not drinking that.”

As laughter escalated to tears rolling down our faces, the tension and stress of the day disappeared. This Broken Inn bonded us, tempered our differences, and pasted a memory into the scrapbook of our lives.

Sometimes laughter truly is the best medicine. “He will fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with shouts of joy” (NIV Job 8:21).

Upping the Tempo in Your Training

By Don Otis –

The track workouts at my suburban Los Angeles high school were brutal. A typical mid-week workout included intervals, a combination of 200- or 400-yard sprints with very little rest. The purpose behind these workouts was to teach our muscles to adapt to the speed. If you want to be fast, you have to train fast. This is true in any sport, but it is especially true of professional athletes.  So what does this have to do with recreational athletes or those just wanting to stay in shape?

There are two types of muscle fibers: slow-twitch and fast-twitch. The former are oxygen-rich and darker in color. The latter appear white. A marathon runner has slow-twitch fibers while a sprinter has fast-twitch.  There are no differences between men and women in terms of fiber-type distribution. Nevertheless, in general men are stronger because they have a greater amount of muscle tissue. Likewise, some people inherit a high percentage of slow-twitch muscle fibers. This genetic effect means they have a greater potential for endurance activities.

You will notice a marked difference between sprinters (more muscle mass) than distance runners (leaner).  As we age, we lose more of the fast-twitch (speed) capabilities we had when we were younger. We also lose our capacity to process oxygen, which makes distance training more difficult. It is important, however, even for those who are just trying to stay in shape, to include at least one workout a week that engages fast-twitch muscles. Here’s why.

There is a direct correlation between the intensity of your workouts and engaging your fast-twitch fibers.  If the intensity of your workouts is always the same, your results will remain flat. I recommend some form of higher-intensity workout each week. In practical terms, this means doing whatever you do–but faster and for shorter periods of time. For example, if you swim 1000 meters three days a week, try adding 6 X 100 meters at a faster-than-average pace. The same is true for running. Increase your speed for shorter distances. When you do intervals it’s expected that you will rest between each–thirty to sixty seconds. It is expected that you should be out of breath from the effort.

You can achieve the same effect through other exercises such as jumping rope or increasing the tempo in an aerobics class. While I suggest you keep your exercise intensity high during regular workouts too, the fatigue from higher intensity exercise should leave you feeling added fatigue from the effort.  I am a proponent of spending less time to get the same or often better training results from workouts. You don’t have to spend an hour on an elliptical machine. Instead, push the tempo harder and get your heart rate into a higher zone.

By increasing your speed you burn more calories as well. Keep in mind the universal formula of 220-your age. This will give you a general idea of your maximum heart rate. Then, divide that number by 70 percent. If you are 40, here’s how it works: 220-40=180 beats per minute. This is your maximum. You want to train at 70-80 percent of this which is calculated by .70X180=126.

Fight the urge in your workouts to “just get through.” Instead, focus on the quality of your efforts.

Horse Manure or Miracle Grow

By Donna McCrary –

“Miracle grow that is a fabulous name for it… we just called it horse manure!”

Edna was one of my favorite patients, diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. During our horticulture therapy session, we were diligently planting spring flowers in the open courtyard. I was reminiscing with Edna about her childhood growing up on a farm. We were chatting about chickens, planting corn, and growing green beans and squash. Edna was deep in conversation describing silly stories of her childhood days. Not all the stories made logical sense, because her concept of time was distorted by the disease. But on that day, time was of little concern to Edna. Excitement beamed from her face as she mindlessly fumbled with the soil in the oversized container. She “ooohed “ and “ahhhed” at each colorful flower as if experiencing it for the first time.

As our gardening session ended, I casually reminded my assistant to add the Miracle Grow fertilizer to each pot. Edna overheard this simple request and in an instant her face lit up with the most astonishing expression. She grabbed my arm and exclaimed in childlike amazement, “Miracle Grow! Ohh, Miracle Grow! That is the best name ever! We just called it horse manure when I was growing up!” Laughter exploded from our group as Edna proudly wheeled herself back inside, amazed at this newfound revelation. Miracle Grow or horse manure – it was the same to Edna!

Edna was a precious soul. She struggled daily to remember her name. She would often be found wandering the halls searching for her “home.” More than once, I was a long lost sister playing outside in the garden with her. But on this particular day, Edna, in her weakest mind, had a very wise and profound revelation. Sometimes what we see as stinky horse manure God uses to make miracles grow!

It is the stinky messes that refine us into the image of Christ. It is the stinky messes that God uses to fertilize our relationship with Him. It is the stinky messes that bring us to our knees in utter desperation. It is the stinky messes that cultivate in us a beautiful image of Christ! My challenge to you today is to chuckle like Edna at this new and most amazing name for all your stinky “horse manure” messes: Miracle Grow.

PRAYER: Father, today help me be thankful for all the “stinky messes” that are a part of my life.  God, please continue to refine me into the image of Your Son. Draw me closer through a deeper understanding of Your love, grace, and mercy in middle of my mess.

BIBLE VERSE: “In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith – of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire- may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed” (1 Peter 1:7 NIV).

Next Page »