Grampa’s Sermons

By Emily Parke Chase –

When one of my brothers, in a sentimental mood, decided to give each of our kids a recording of their grandfather’s sermons, the response was, um, muted enthusiasm. So I was surprised when those tapes began to lead a wild life of their own.

Mind you, my children were all under the age of ten at the time. They were not inclined to listen to their mother in person, let alone a series of sermons on a cassette tape. That is why, one day when he was ridding his closet of clutter, my oldest son sneaked the tape into his sister’s room and hid it in her pile of clean laundry. And when she found it? She dutifully returned it to her brother, this time hiding it in his underwear drawer.

From that time on, they passed the tape back and forth year after year, ever escalating the value of the hiding places. When Tim became a teen and began dating, his girlfriend invited him to dinner at her home. After the meal, she served him lime Jell-O for dessert. Inside the green gelatinous mountain, courtesy of his sister, was the cassette, carefully preserved in a ziplock bag.

When children go off to college, don’t they all look forward to receiving care packages? Our daughter asked a house guest from Wisconsin to take along an unmarked box and mail it to Tim’s campus mail box. He ripped open the out-of-state package with enthusiasm only to find not home-baked cookies but Grampa’s sermons.

When our family moved out of state for a year, our daughter Prisca was still in high school. She played volleyball for her new school’s team, and at the end of the season, the coach called her out at halftime for special recognition in front of all the fans.

“Prisca has been a powerful assist to our team this year, and we will miss her greatly next year,” he concluded. Then he presented her with a beautifully wrapped gift. Flushed with pleasure, Prisca returned to the bench, pulled off the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box to discover a note from her brother and . . . the infamous plastic cassette.

Did anyone ever listen to the sermons? Yes. Driving across the country on a road trip, Tim stuck them in his tape deck. Hearing his grandfather’s voice was far sweeter than, um, lime Jell-O.

“Everything that is now hidden . . . will eventually be brought to light,” Mark 4:22 (NLT).

The author is busy listening to sermon tapes. Visit her at www.emilychase.com to learn about her books, including Help! My Family’s Messed Up!

A “Leftover” Celebration?

By Kathi Macias –

February is the shortest month in the year, and I’m okay with that. But why does it have to be the busiest too? (Okay, next to December.)

Seriously, February starts out with my hubby’s birthday on the fifth. Now, he claims that he’s too old to make a big deal of such an occasion, but I happen to know that he’d be crushed if we actually took him at his word and let it pass by unnoticed. Besides, he’s been dropping hints since November that he’d really love it if we treated him to a prime rib and lobster dinner. (Guess McD’s is out of the question, eh?) And, of course, you can’t celebrate with a dinner like that and not have a present, right? That’s a challenge in itself. He’s a golf fanatic, but I think we’ve already bought and given him every golf gadget ever created, so what’s left? Our grown children keep calling and asking me for ideas, as if I actually had any. Can anyone say “stress”?

Following on the heels of that birthday celebration comes our second son’s birthday and a granddaughter’s too. More ideas needed, though pre-teen granddaughters aren’t nearly as difficult to buy for as grown men.

We no sooner recover from that than it’s officially “hearts and flowers and chocolate” time—i.e., Valentine’s Day. Of course, I enjoy that one because I don’t just have to come up with ideas for other people; I can also count on being on the receiving end of the day too. Dinner out? Flowers? Candy? I’ll take ’em all!

After that we get a little breather until almost the end of the month when my husband and I (hopefully!) remember that it’s our wedding anniversary. Now shouldn’t that be a really special, romantic celebration? You’d think so….

Problem is, everyone’s broke from buying birthday gifts, and romance ideas are all used up on Valentine’s Day. Dinner out? Did that three times this month. Budget is blown. A quiet weekend getaway? Out of the question—same budge-related reason. Flowers? The dead ones are still drooping in the vase and shedding on the counter. Candy? Puh-leeze! I already can’t button my pants, and I still have half a box of chocolates left from Valentine’s Day!

So what were we thinking when we chose February 26 for our wedding day? Surely there’s something left to celebrate at the end of such a short, busy month…isn’t there?

When I whined about it the other day, our oldest son, whose birthday is December 22, reminded me of how many times he felt cheated having a birthday three days before Christmas. He has a list a mile long of gifts he got with the note “Happy Birthday AND Merry Christmas” on them. He’s got a point.

His mention of Christmas got my attention, too. Only two months since we celebrated the greatest gift ever given, and now I’m complaining about not getting or doing anything special on my anniversary. The more I thought/prayed about it, the more I realized how self-centered so many of our celebrations are, and I decided it was time for a change. Not sure how everyone else will react, but here’s the plan.

This year, for our anniversary, instead of going out for a dinner we don’t really need, I’m going to suggest donating that money to one of our favorite ministries and maybe even donating the time to a local outreach at our own church. If my husband and I do it together, something tells me it will be more meaningful than anything else we might have planned for ourselves. And it just might be a great idea for the next family event, where we can include children and grandchildren, siblings and their families, and work together to bless others. I have a feeling it just might catch on—and permanently do away with “leftover celebrations.” Care to join us?

Kathi Macias (www.kathimacias.com) is a popular speaker and an award-winning author of more than 30 books, including the popular Extreme Devotion fiction series from New Hope Publishers.

The Right Fit

By Jodi Whisenhunt –

In seventh grade, Kaepa tennis shoes were all the rage at my junior high school. With their unique dual lace design, you could mix and match shoelace colors to coordinate your outfit or show school spirit. They were great for 1980s fashion.

Kaepas came in an affordable canvas style, but the cool kids wouldn’t be caught dead in those. No, to be cool, you had to have the much pricier leather ones. Well, my family didn’t have a money tree in our backyard, and my mom was a struggling, single parent at the time, so no matter how much I begged, she just couldn’t say yes to such an expense…until one day at JC Penney.

Mom and I had gone shopping. As we strode past the shoe department, I noticed a big red SALE sign by the most awesome shoes in the whole mall: the leather Kaepas. “The shoes! Mom! The shoes! Please, please, please!”

She said, “OK.” Yes!

I grabbed the nearest salesperson and asked for a size 7. He brought out a 6-1/2, the last box in the store. I didn’t hang my head in surrender, though. I squeezed my feet in, loosened each lace, and strutted across to the mirror to admire the glorious prize. I was on the verge of coolness. They fit perfectly—not.

The shoes were snug, but I was afraid that if we left the store without them, my mom would never again agree to buy them. So I lied. I said they fit great, that they were the most comfortable shoes I’d ever owned. Mom knew they were too small, but I wouldn’t take them off. I wore them every day for the rest of the school year.

I was cool. Or at least my shoes were cool. But how much better would I have felt—both physically and emotionally—if I had trusted my mom? If I had listened to her assurance that we’d get a better fitting pair at another store? If I would have waited for the right thing?

I must confess I still struggle with trusting and waiting. The issues don’t necessarily concern shoes anymore–well, maybe sometimes—but often important life decisions tempt me to jump into situations that might not be the right fit. In those times, I end up somewhere snug and uncomfortable. However, if I trust my heavenly parent, God the Father, and heed His gentle assurance, His provision will always suit my need.

Jodi Whisenhunt is an Amy Award-winning freelance writer and editor who would really like to have a size 8 vintage leather pair of split-lace Kaepas, circa 1983. You can find her at www.jodiwhisenhunt.com or at www.magicalmouseschoolhouse.com, where Disney IS school.

Social Graces

By Emily Parke Chase –

While talking with a friend at work, I thanked her for helping me with a project. She was delighted and hurriedly gushed, “Oh, it was no pleasure at all!”

Though I wandered away shaking my head, I decided to extend her grace. After all, “It was no trouble at all” and “It was a pleasure” are not so far apart.  Then my friend’s husband, also a co-worker, apologized for forgetting the name of a client. “You know how it is, in one ear and gone tomorrow.”

Perhaps we all need an occasional reminder to ponder our words before they flow off our tongues. We think at high speed and release a thought before it is fully processed. Our brains switch off and head out to Starbucks without warning.

This issue of mangling phrases is not a modern disease caused by watching too much MTV or texting messages on i-Pods. Anyone can slip up typing 140 characters with his thumbs. But forty years ago, long before e-mail and emoticons, my grandmother encountered a friend in the market one morning and passed along a compliment overheard the day before. Like my co-worker, my grandmother’s friend blushed and, in her excitement, replied, “Oh, thank you so much! And, Mrs. Parke, if I ever hear anything nice about you, I’ll be sure to say so.”

Can it be true that over the course of decades my grandmother’s friends had never said a kind word about her?

The problem of prattling pitfalls only gets worse when we make such errors not before an audience of one but in front of a large group. Consider, for example, the Sunday morning when one of our former pastors looked out over his congregation and noted a large number of empty seats in the worship service. He apologized to us for the meager attendance. “The crowd seems much thinner today. All our ladies are on a weekend retreat.”

Fortunately for him, his wife was among those attending the retreat. Or was it the other way around? Would she have preferred to be seated among those of us whom he considered more slender? Thankfully, if she ever heard about his comment, she too extended him grace. They are still happily married.

Maybe we should all strive to be a bit more like Moses and develop slowness of speech.

“My dear brothers and sisters, be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry.” (James 1:19 NLT)

(Emily Parke Chase is busy editing out mangled phrases on her webpage. Visit her at emilychase.com.)

A Tale of Two Faces

By Rhonda Rhea –

I was looking through family pictures the other day. I love oohing and ahing over the pictures of all my kids when they were babies. I did, however, make an interesting observation in several of the shots that included the entire family. When the kids were babies, my husband had a mustache.

And I didn’t.

Woah, not a pretty turn of events, I must say. I wonder if we could make a bad reality show out of it. Something like “Where’s Their Hair Now”? Or even better, how about “Trading Faces”?

If not a reality show, at least a poem. I’ve noticed that traumatic experiences often send writers into bouts of poetry. For some of us, it’s really bad poetry. My proof:

Electrolysis or lasers?
Should I go ahead and tweeze it?
Sugars, waxes, creams or razors?
Should I heat it, blast it, freeze it?

Maybe chemicals will get it,
Gotta look at all the facts.
I can simply wax poetic,
But maybe I should simply wax.

I decided it was time to end the bad poem when I realized there were too many words that rhyme with “pelt” and not enough that rhyme with “weed-whacker.”

All “Extreme Makeover, Face Editions” aside, it’s not a bad thing to stop and think about our spiritual faces. Have you ever met a two-faced person? Have you ever been one? Behaving one way at church, showing a totally different face at home, on the job or at school?

We need to always put our best face forward, as it were. Hypocrisy is one of the Lord’s pet peeves. We’re told in 1 Peter 2:1 to stop all that nonsense. “Therefore, rid yourselves of all malice and all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander of every kind” (NIV). The New Living phrases it like this, “So get rid of all malicious behavior and deceit. Don’t just pretend to be good! Be done with hypocrisy and jealousy and backstabbing.” Anytime we find ourselves acting as pretenders or two-faced back-stabbers we need a makeover in the most extreme way. And on all our collective faces.

Jesus said in Mark 7:6, “Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you hypocrites; as it is written:  ‘These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me’” (NIV).

It doesn’t even really matter who has the furriest upper lip. Whatever my lip condition, I never want it to be out of sync with my heart. I’ve given my heart to Christ. That means my lips and my mind, my motives and my actions, are all to be His too. And when we have secret places of hypocrisy in our lives, they interfere with our worship. After all, there are no secret places that are hidden from Him. He sees our hearts. Isaiah 66:3 says, “The acts of the hypocrite’s worship are as abominable to God as if they were offered to idols” (AMP).

Enough duplicity. We need to get rid of every two-faced tendency. I want to look forward to meeting Jesus face to face with great eagerness and expectation. Face to face. Not face to face to face.

Rhonda Rhea is a radio personality, conference speaker, humor columnist and author of seven books, including High Heels in High Places and her newest book, Whatsoever Things Are Lovely: Must-Have Accessories for God’s Perfect Peace. You can find out more at www.RhondaRhea.org.

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