A Cup of Patience

By Kim Stokely –

It was stupid. I know it was. It was an extravagant little item that I didn’t need.

But I wanted it.

I wanted it bad.

What, pray tell, had captured my attention and aroused my desire?

A teapot.

Yup. A tiny silver teapot. But it wasn’t only a teapot. The dainty beauty sat upon its own little cup and it contained its own little diffuser. It beckoned to me like an island oasis. “Buy me,” it whispered. “Fill me with extravagant tea leaves from exotic lands, and when you sip the liquid from my brew, I will take you there!”

Okay. Maybe it wasn’t quite as specific as that, but the pot definitely spoke to me of relaxing cups of tasty tea sipped over the pages of a good book. I checked the price of this diminutive treasure. Not too expensive, but I still didn’t feel as if I could justify the purchase. It was, however, close to my birthday. I suggested to my mother-in-law, browsing beside me, that she could drop a hint to my kids that this would be the perfect gift. As we were out- of-town, I knew my children only had a small window of opportunity to buy it.

I watched them the following day.

They never left the house.

That night, the entire family gathered at a restaurant just around the corner from the shop where my obsession sat waiting for me. Since I knew my kids hadn’t bought the teapot for me, I decided to walk to the store after dinner and buy it myself. My mother-in-law stopped me. Rather emphatically.

I figured she planned to buy the tea pot and send it to me for my birthday. I waited, like an impatient child at Christmas, for my package to arrive in the mail. As the days ticked down to my birthday, I jumped at the sound of every truck coming along the street, fully expecting the UPS man to deliver my desire.

But he never came.

Instead, the mailman unceremoniously stuck a large envelope in our mailbox. It squished when I pulled it out. My heart sunk when I read the return address and realized that it was from my in-laws. It wasn’t my tea pot. It contained a beautiful scarf necklace. The perfect complement to the new outfit I’d bought with a gift card from my mother.

But it wasn’t the teapot.

I argued with myself that I didn’t need the teapot. That my birthday had been most pleasant even without the gift I’d wanted. As the day wore on, it was harder to convince myself.

But then, just before the day ended, my daughter presented me with a cylindrical box decorated with a bow. I knew without opening it what it contained. My kids had given money to my sister-in-law who’d slipped out, bought the teapot, and snuck it to my children while I wasn’t looking.

Now when I sip my tea, I don’t think about exotic places. I think about how I almost let my frustration rob me of my happiness. The teapot has become a symbol of my walk with Christ. I am reminded that God has a good and perfect will for my life, but sometimes I have to wait for His perfect time. His gifts may not come when I think they should, but I think that’s so I will appreciate them even more when they do arrive.

Relative Thinking

By Dawn Wilson –

No matter how bad our economy gets, I’m still wealthy at my local dollar store. I can buy everything I need: food and spices, dishes, personal and home care items, cleaners, school supplies, greeting cards, socks and underwear, toys and even holiday decorations. OK, maybe I need a few more things—I can’t live without coconut milk. Or my organic almond shampoo. Or a little bling. The truth is, I’m wealthy compared to most people in the world.

This is called “relative thinking.” It’s considering one thing in relation or proportion to something else. We are experts at relative thinking when it comes to our income.

A brain scan study by Professor Christian Elger and Professor Armin Falk at the University of Bonn in 2007 showed that no matter a person’s wealth, money is “most rewarding” when the person has poor friends, peers or colleagues. In other words, the region of the brain where the “reward system” is located responded when people felt they had more than others. This “keeping up with the Joneses” (and passing them) in order to stay happy and content traps us on a “hedonic treadmill,” one sociologist says. We become the ultimate consumers.

You’ve no doubt heard “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” Most of the hungry, needy people in the world would love to sift through our trash or what we ditch in garage sales. Wealth is relative because of our attitudes.

We’re also experts at relative thinking in regard to our time. Think about it. Five minutes of a preschooler’s tantrum feels like infinity compared to the 10 minutes of peace that follows in “time out”. When we’re children, we can’t wait to be driving, married or in a career. Then, when we’re hobbling on a cane, we wish we could run with our grandkids. Watch the clock’s minute hand crawl by as you wait in a doctor’s office. But go to an amusement park and you’ll wonder where the hours flew. Time is relative because of our attitudes toward it. And so is our appearance. Fat is beautiful in Africa, but in Europe, trim is in.

Unfortunately for many people, spiritual life is also relative. Some chat with a giant in the faith and come away feeling like spiritual wimps. Others swell up with theological arrogance around those who are “new in the faith” and spiritually ignorant. Again, comparison at work.

My personal prescription to cure “relative thinking” is embracing God’s wisdom. It’s His perspective I want, not my own faulty, relative thinking. God says we are unwise to compare (2 Corinthians 10:12). He is more concerned about our hearts than our bank account or new wardrobe. God looks at our choices to see if we are focused on eternity.

Proverbs 4:7 counsels, “wisdom is the principal thing” (NKJV). Wisdom is learning to see life from God’s point of view, and that “life” includes our attitudes, finances, marriage, parenting, spiritual growth—everything!

The next time you pass a dollar store, remember how wealthy you are. Glance at your watch and ask God to help you redeem the time. Look in a mirror and remind yourself that God sees the heart. But most of all, thank God for transforming your thoughts and giving you wisdom’s perspective.

Hold On for Dear Life

By Rhonda Rhea –

Maybe I mentioned before that I always keep dried fruit in my desk drawer so I’ll have a healthy snack handy when I’m working. Except the fruits are so dry that all that’s left of them is these nacho cheesy Doritos.

Somehow that makes it an even sadder snack situation when I reach for my fruit and all I find in the bottom of the Dorito bag is a bunch of orange powder. I hate that. Some people would suggest that whenever that happens, I would do well to take the hint and go get an apple. Those are the people who just don’t get me at all.

Then there are others who say the nacho-powder is the best part. They’re closer to getting me than the apple group. Still, they would no doubt think it wasteful of me if they saw me throwing away a perfectly good bag of Dorito-dust. I’m sorry, but once I find anything in my snack stash in ash form, I toss it. Definitely time for a new bag of Dor-fruit-os. Holding on to the bag when its contents are practically an aerosol just doesn’t work for me. Spray-on Doritos? No, I say give the bag a decent burial and let it go. Stashes to ashes, Doritos to dust.

Sort of relatedly, our walk with Christ can be either wonderfully encouraged or it can be sadly thwarted by what we choose to hang on to. And what we don’t. Hang on to wealth or material things, success or power, popularity or fame, comfort or entertainment—or a gazillion other things that promise to satisfy but don’t deliver—and there’s going to be disappointment. If we hang on to pride or unforgiveness or any other sin, we inevitably find there’s not only disappointment, but devastation. And we usually also find that as we hang on to those sins, they also begin to hang on to us. It’s scary-amazing how easily sin can get a hold on you, isn’t it?

Even hanging on to good things can sidetrack our lives in a fruitless direction. Jesus said, “If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it,” (Matthew 16:25, NLT). Holding onto anything in this life is letting go of too much of Jesus. That leads to a dead-end life with no fruit. None. Not even the dried up fruit of the Dorito variety.

So much of the victorious life in Christ is about knowing when to let go and when to hold on. We’re told in Deuteronomy 13:4, “Follow the Lord your God and fear Him. Keep His Laws, and listen to His voice. Work for Him, and hold on to Him,” (NLV). As we hold on to Him and passionately embrace all He calls us to be and to do, life becomes exactly what it’s meant to be. It becomes sweet. It becomes dear. So you could rightly say that holding on to the Father is very surely holding on for dear life.

My “Bacon” Blunder

By Dawn Wilson –

Some things just make me go “Huh?”

I mean, I love bacon, but I wouldn’t buy the “Bacon-shaped Christmas ornaments” I saw online, or use a bacon-scented candle, or place a bacon-printed floor mat in front of my sink, or frost my cake with bacon-flavored frosting. I’m a wee bit tempted to create some “bacon roses” for a party, though. They just look so yummy!

My earliest recollection of the word “bacon”—other than the kind my mom fried up in a pan—was hearing Mom say it was Dad’s job to “bring home the bacon.” Years later I heard a commercial for Charles of the Ritz’s Enjoli perfume: “I can bring home the bacon! Fry it up in a pan! And never, never, never let you forget you’re a man. ‘Cause I’m a woman.”

The song was a parody of “I’m a Woman,” one of Peggy Lee’s signature tunes, and I embraced the philosophy. Her original lyrics explained she could scoop up lard “from a drippins can.” Then this awesome “W-O-M-A-N” would take that fat, throw it in the skillet, go out and do her shopping, and be back before it melted in the pan! Wow!

I thought, “Yes! I can do and be everything too. I’m tough. I’ll be a ‘bring home the bacon’ woman. I don’t need anyone. And when I get married, I’ll do my best to make a man feel he’s strong too (hopefully, stronger than me)!”

As I matured into womanhood in the Superwoman culture of the 60s, I felt driven to be all-powerful and self-sufficient. My goal was to read every self-help book I could put my hands on and achieve, achieve, achieve!

It took me years to understand that much of my self-confidence was founded in a proud heart and focused on performance. I was “wise” in my own eyes (Proverbs 3:7) and trusting in empty works (1 Corinthians 3:12-13).

God broke my heart in a revival meeting as I realized my self-confidence was getting in the way of “God-confidence.”

I was living independent of God, functioning like an atheist. I wasn’t seeking Him for advice and wisdom (Isaiah 30:1-3; James 1:5). I was trusting in my “strong flesh,” which was actually weak, limited, temporal and untrustworthy. I sadly realized flesh could only take me so far; ultimately it would fail me. And it was sinful. I was doing what came naturally instead of living supernaturally in Christ.

God wants so much more for us than “bringing home the bacon.” He has a great work for us to do for His kingdom, but He wants us to recognize that He is our Source. The more we seek Him and allow His Spirit to transform us (2 Corinthians 3:18), the more we will fulfill His purposes and find true satisfaction.

God is up to something beautiful, investing in our lives and shaping us for ministry. In His presence, we find peace, protection, provision, power—everything we need. HE is the one bringing home the bacon and so much more!

Maybe I need to buy and wear a bacon necklace I saw, to remind me of this great truth.

Deceiving Appearances

By Kim Stokely –

Have you ever had a taste surprise? You reach for the bottle of apple juice in the fridge, take a swallow, only to discover it’s actually the sun tea you made that afternoon? A friend of mine has held a grudge against pumpernickel bread ever since she took a cube off a buffet table, thinking it was a brownie bite.

I had, at a recent family reunion, not a taste surprise, but an appearance surprise. To understand the true nature of this, you have to know that some members of my husband’s family loathe mayonnaise. The sight of the gelatinous white sandwich spread makes them physically ill. My son, Ian, doesn’t hate it to that extent, but he still doesn’t like it. As we gathered at the picnic table to eat a lunch of leftovers, my niece, Allison, walked out with a huge jar of mayonnaise.

Her cousin, Justyn, stared at her in horror. “Why’d you bring that out here?”

She gave him a sweet smile. “I found out that I like it!”

My son looked around the table at the remaining hot dogs and burgers. Ian’s face paled. “What are you going to put it on?”

Allison plopped into her chair, setting the offensive jar, and a plate of crackers on the table. She slowly unscrewed the cap.

Justyn turned a shade of green. “Crackers? You eat it just with crackers?”

In answer, she dipped her spoon into the jar and spread a blob of its contents onto a cracker. She popped the morsel into her mouth. “Yep.”

My son stared. “I dare you to eat a spoonful on its own.”

Allison promptly did.

Ian made a retching noise before standing up. “That just hurt my heart.” He and Justyn ran into the house.

Allison laughed while the rest of us looked on with various expressions of confusion, curiosity and revulsion. She scooped out another blob and held it out. “Anyone else want some?” She giggled at the groans she heard. “It’s vanilla pudding!”

She’d fooled all of us with her practical joke, something she gloated over for the rest of our visit. We’d all looked at the jar and its label, and assumed that the white goo inside was mayonnaise. But, if we’d really thought about it, we would have realized Allison would never eat mayonnaise, as she’s always been the most vocal in her disgust of the stuff.

The joke reminded me of the passage in 1Samuel 16:7 when God warned Samuel not to judge a person by their appearance, as man does; but by their heart, as He does. How often do we jump to conclusions based on appearances? Has someone’s clothes, or tattoos, or hairstyle, stopped me from approaching them because I didn’t think we’d have anything in common? Just because the outside looks like something we might not like, the inside might hold a sweet treat, just like Allison’s jar of “mayonnaise.”

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