Serving Cheerfully

By Virginia Smith

I am not fond of housework. I know some people love it, but to me, washing dishes is torture, laundry is capital punishment and the vacuum cleaner is something to be avoided at all costs. So I was shocked when an unwelcome idea came to mind one day as I prayed for my friend Judy, who was recovering from a prolonged illness. You should volunteer to clean her house. I tried to dismiss it, to laugh it off as a rogue thought from an overactive imagination. But no matter how much I disliked the idea, I knew that spiritual nudge of rightness had to be from the Lord. Reluctantly but obediently, I called Judy and made the offer.

The next day, armed with rubber gloves and Lemon Pledge, I arrived for my dreaded act of service. “Lord,” I prayed as I got out of the car, “I’m doing this because I love Judy and I love You. Please help me do it cheerfully.” Then I plastered a smile on my face and went inside.

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Creating Opportunities

By Virginia Smith

I collect Christian tee shirts. Some of them have catchy phrases like, “Know Jesus Know Peace—No Jesus No Peace.” One has a big smiley face with the caption “Psalm 92:4.” And one of my favorites displays those universally recognized letters, “WWJD.”

I was wearing that shirt on the London tube during a trip with my mother. We had remarked earlier that everyone in London seemed to wear nothing but black, especially the young people. So I stood out in my white tee shirt with those letters embroidered in shiny gold thread across my chest. In fact, one black-clad young man wearing more jewelry on his face than I had packed for my entire vacation caught me in a direct gaze across the aisle and nodded at my shirt.

“You one of those religious nuts?” he asked.

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Ears To Hear

By Virginia Smith

Not long ago I was working on my laptop, and I had the strangest thought. It’s been a long time since I did a full backup of my data. I’d better do that. I know I should do regular backups, but it’s something I often don’t think about until after the computer is shut down for the night. So it had been several months since my last one. I responded to the nudge and backed up all my critical data.

Three days later while I was working, I heard a sizzle and pop and my laptop died. Gone. Unrecoverable. My first thought was, Thank you, Lord! I have a backup.

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Keeping What We Have

By Virginia Smith

I recently attended my first “anonymous” meeting to support someone I care about. Never having been involved with a twelve-step program, I was a little intimidated, as was the person I went to support. Though I never realized it, my unconscious attitude toward difficult personal struggles has been “pray for strength, but suffer in silence.” This meeting blew that attitude out of the water.

Eighteen people gathered around a table and talked openly about their addiction. They told how their lives had been destroyed, how their disease took over every waking minute and every ounce of attention. It became the focus of their existence. They spoke of losing jobs and homes and families, of bankruptcies and suicide attempts. I was impressed over and over by how transparent these people were. They held nothing back. Their words were stark, often harsh, and the pictures they painted made me want to weep.

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Fake Fingernail Fiasco

By Virginia Smith

I recently did something I never thought I’d never do – I got acrylic fingernails. They looked lovely, but I quickly realized I’d made a mistake. For one thing, my typing skills suffered; for a writer, that’s a disaster. I also had a tendency to drum those lovely nails on any available surface just for the joy of hearing the charming tap, tap, tap. My husband wasn’t amused. He threatened to get his wire cutters and put them out of his misery if I didn’t stop. No problem, I said, because all that tapping made my fingertips sore anyway.

Then my nails started to grow, pushing those hard-as-titanium tips out with them and leaving an ugly gap at the base. Ugh. I decided I didn’t like the Edward Scissorhands look anymore. The fake nails had to go. But it seemed a tremendous waste of money to pay someone else to remove them when I could do it myself.

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