Toilet Paper and the Past

We would soon run out of air freshener; I wondered if I had more stored under the bed. Instead, I discovered a plastic shopping bag containing six rolls of one-ply toilet paper. Oh, no. I hoped we had used up all of that kind, even though we sure were grateful for it when store supplies ran low years ago. 

Reflecting on the past can be like finding air freshener under the bed; pondering pleasant memories brings refreshment. And we can also review helpful lessons learned.

But sometimes we unearth memories that should be exposed to the light and then disposed of. If self-pity, wrath, resentment, and other sinful feelings result from what we uncover, then we dare not dwell on those recollections. Instead, we can cultivate a spirit of forgiveness toward others, pray for our persecutors, and peacefully move on in our minds. After all, Paul in Philippians 4:8 shared a list of the kinds of thoughts we should embrace. And like the under-the-bed toilet paper, poisonous thoughts from the past simply must be flushed.

Seven Simple Words

Slowly opening the envelope and extracting a single sheet of paper, Roland read the first few words, wondering. Would this message mean more work for him on the job he had supposedly finished months ago? Could it contain negative news of some sort? But, no. The company had wanted to acknowledge the good news he had already learned: His completed project had been accepted. Not only that, but a seven-word sentence made Roland’s feet feel like dancing: “We hope to hear more from you!”
 
We, too, can choose to share an encouraging word; even a short sentence can greatly gladden the heart.

Learning to Look Up

Stephanie found herself complaining about Cara—again. Why had she never written back? Mom had encouraged giving Cara the benefit of the doubt: Perhaps she disliked writing letters; maybe Stephanie’s envelope had been lost in the mail; Cara could simply have forgotten to take a turn. Who knew?

One day when Stephanie and Mom discovered a pen display at a department store, Stephanie grumbled, “Well, it sure would be helpful if these pens had price tags on them.” Looking around, Mom wondered if the cost could be located somewhere else, but Stephanie was sure the store workers had simply chosen to chuck common sense out the door. Then Mom looked up and spied a big sign above the pen display that clearly revealed the price.

Many moons after the letter incident, Stephanie decided to try writing to Cara again; some days later, Stephanie returned from the mailbox with an envelope. Mom asked, “Who is it from?” Joyfully, Stephanie replied: “CARA!”

What a difference it makes when we learn to look up!

(Photo by Justine Laws)

In the Hurricane Rain

Lily peered through the windshield, desperately trying to discern the lines on the road. The wipers were no match for the remnants of this hurricane—or whatever this rainstorm was. Somehow she must reach home; she prayed that God would rescue her from this stressful situation. After all, He could stop the onslaught immediately. But then she recalled that most times her heavenly Father chose to allow the storm to subside on its own: He helped her IN the rain rather than rescuing her FROM the rain. Smiling wryly, Lily drove slowly and carefully onward, until an hour later when she pulled into the driveway of home—just as the rain ceased.

Justin’s Best Birthday

Around 7:00 a.m. on July 26, Tina held her closed Bible, ready to open it and read. A door down the hallway squeaked shut; that sounded like Justin’s door. …
 
A few minutes later he appeared at her bedroom doorway, dressed and ready to begin the day. “Want to hear some good news?” he asked his mom.
 
Smiling, Tina assured him that she did; he wanted her to guess. “Uh … You’re still my little boy?” (In seven days he would turn 18, but she still considered him her little boy in some ways—even though he towered over her by now.) No, that was not what he had meant. Her next guess: “You decided to become a Christian?” After all, that would be good news—the best kind of news of all. And that was his news indeed: Justin had been saved.

He told her that at 10:45 the night before, he had prayed by himself. Joyful tears sprang to Tina’s eyes. “I’m not much of a huggy person,” she admitted. “But I feel like giving you a hug.” She paused, knowing that he wasn’t that type either. “Fist bump?” She grinned. In the end, she gave him a half hug and a shoulder squeeze. The happiest and most important birthday had arrived eight days before Justin turned 18 years old.