Crazy Grace

I'm a member of Faithwriters, a forum for Christian writers. I hadn't participated in the Writing Challenge for a long time and decided to give it a try. Here's how it works. They give you a word, which for that week was the word "shop." You can write anything you want (fiction, non-fiction, devotion, poetry, etc.) on that topic as long as it is spritually-based. Word count is anywhere from 150-750 words, not including the title.

I wrote a story but when it came time to submit it, my monitor decided to go bonkers and I ended up having to buy a new one. Unfortunately, by the time time I got the monitor up and running I had missed the submission date so I'm posting it here instead.

Writing in an active first person voice is not my strongest forte (in fact, it's my weakest) so I wanted to challenge myself and give it a try anyway. "Crazy Grace" is my awkward attempt at writing first person.

Crazy Grace

Two beeps on the walkie talkie alert me to a possible shoplifter in the Christian bookstore. As a security guard, it amazes me the store even needs my services but such is the case.

“Who’s the perp?” I ask into the gadget I’m holding.

“In Bibles. A long-haired type with lots of tattoos,” the store manager says into her piece.

“Got it,” I respond.

I walk casually to the Bible section. With a shopping basket on my arm I try to blend in with the customers.

Sure enough. He’s there. He’s rather obvious since not too many long-haired, tattooed ruffians hang out in this area of the bookstore. The scars on his face cause a couple customers to grab their kids and head for another aisle.

“What took ya so long?” he asks not even taking his eyes off the page of the Bible he’s reading.

“Excuse me?”

“What took ya so long? I always attract the cops no matter where I go,” he says still peering into the Bible.

“I’m not a cop, just a lowly guard. How’d you know?”

“Are you kiddin’ me,” he laughs. People notice his boisterous guffaws. “I could hear your walkie talkie squawkin’ from across the room.” Putting out his hand he continues. “I’m Pete.”

“Uh, I’m Thomas.” My face scrunches up from the firmness in his shake. Good grip. Closing the Bible, he looks directly into my eyes.

“Why tail me? Don’t I got the right to shop like the other folks?”

“Well, I, I, I, uh,” I stutter not sounding too bright. “Someone in the store asked me to take a closer look. That’s all.”

“Ain’t got too many folks like me moseying around here, huh?”

“True,” I say. No reason to deny it.

“Haven’t you heard the Good Book says not to judge a book by its cover?” Again, he laughs.

“Does it really say that?”

“More or less,” he chuckles. I can’t figure out the joke.

“I’ve got a story to tell and you’re just the feller God wants to hear it. How’s about a cup of coffee?” He nods towards the Java Nook at the back of the store.

“Uhm, sure, I can spare a few minutes.” I radio the manager letting her know I’m temporarily off the floor.

We order drinks. Sitting at a petite table with a rose-colored tablecloth and glowing artificial candles, we sip coffee. My masculinity takes a beating. Thank goodness we drink from styrofoam cups instead of dainty teacups.

“My ex would like this place. She likes stuff all gussied up.”

“What’s your story? What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” I spread my arms open to take in the entire store.

“God’s grace allows me to be here.”

“Say what? Are you going to preach at me?”

“Maybe. If you need it.”

“I don’t so save your breath,” I bark. Never thought I’d be preached at by a hoodlum.

I run a hand through my short-cropped hair. It’s a little warm. I loosen the button around my collar. “Okay, look. I’m not a Christian. I hang here because it’s my job. Nothing more. I don’t need religion.”

Pete slaps me on the back. “Me neither, brother. Good news. I’m not here to jabber about religion. I’m here to talk about Jesus. Sometimes I’m plain flabbergasted He wants to hang with a guy like me. But because of His grace, He does. He reached out to a loser like me and changed me forever.”

I stare at him with bulging eyes. My mouth is wide open. I stop protesting as he continues.

“I call it crazy grace cuz’ it’s crazy He offers me His grace. I don’t deserve nothin’ good from Him but He gives it to me anyway. I was bad to the bone. You name it, I probably did it at one time or ‘nother.”

I slump in the chair resting my head in my hands. Past memories, things I’m not proud about, flash through my mind. Even security guards can be bad to the bone. My recent divorce comes to mind.

“What changed you?”

“Long story short, Jesus happened.” Peter leans in closer. “I was in the slammer for a couple years, bored to tears, when someone told me quit whining and read the Bible. I did. The rest is history.”

I sip my luke-warm coffee. Crazy grace? While others shop around me, something tells me my life is about to change.

Pretend Fried Chicken

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another

John 13:35 (NIV)

I was driving down the interstate when one of my granddaughters screamed from the back seat. I shook my head and looked in the rear view mirror. "Now what are you fighting about?" I demanded.

She and another granddaughter were at it again. Since the two girls were only three months apart, they turned everything into a competition even at the age of three.

Evidently they were eating pretend fried chicken and the one granddaughter stole a piece of chicken off her cousin's plate; hence the screams. My first granddaughter was inconsolable and no amount of reasoning could calm her. It didn't matter that is wasn't real food. I have to admit I shed a few tears myself...laughing hysterically.

Do you know what's not funny? When God's children behave like my granddaughters. The truth is some of the things we squabble about are as petty as pretend fried chicken. God calls His church to love each other unconditionally. He calls us to unity. He calls us to extend grace and mercy. Denominations should not be in competition with each other. We have the same heavenly Father who freely offers His love to each one of us. As we reach out and encourage one another, our world will be impacted for Jesus.

At fourteen years of age, my granddaughters are now the best of friends. Church, let's allow God to mature us into the loving and unified family He desires for us to be.

Prayer:  Lord, grow us into Your loving, merciful family which can then impact the world for You. Amen.

Bible Reading:  Psalm 133

Thought:  I will seek to intentionally love all of God's family.

My Grandma's Quilts

This is the day that the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalm 118:24 (KJV)

"Not another quilt," I moaned. I held it up looking at the colorful blocks of little Dutch boys and girls. "Why can't grandma understand kids don't think quilts are cool?"

And yet, every year that's what my grandmother gave her family for Christmas. That particular year I had hinted for a bike but I wasn't surprised when the annual package made its way from Illinois to southern California. Unfortunately, I didn't appreciate the value of what she gave me. Not only did a lot of time, effort and love go into each one of those well-crafted quilts, they had monetary value too. Each quilt sold for eighty dollars. Fifty-seven years ago that was a lot of money. As a child, I simply took those beautiful quilts for granted.

God's blessings are gifts I hope I don't take for granted. I can joyfully unwrap the gift of each day,  appreciating the value of what I've been given. I can recognize the value of His love...a love so great that He gave His one and only Son that I might have eternal life (John 3:16). I can understand the value of His mercies that are new every morning even when I don't deserve them (Lamentations 3:22, 23). I can see the priceless value of Him as my Savior, my Lord, my Provider and my Healer. Great is His faithfulness.

Prayer:  Dear Lord, may I always appreciate Your blessings in my life.

Bible Reading:  Ephesians 3:14-21

Thought:  May I find the goodness of the Lord in this day which He has given me.

When Did That Happen?

Every time my husband, Mike, looks at a picture of himself the first question that comes out of his mouth usually is, "Do I really look that old?" And my response usually is, "Yes. We both really look that old." Maybe you can relate to the following poem. I hope it's not too much of a downer because I really don't mind getting older. It beats seeing my name in the obits.

When Did That Happen?

"Who is that person in the picture?" I ask.

"No way can that be me. I know it can't

be me because that person in the picture is old.

She looks like my mother and my memory of her is old.

As for me, I am eternally young. Right?"

Then I see the hands holding the picture.

Shockingly, I realize those are old people hands.

Shaking my head I ponder, "When did that happen?"



The Town of Whiney-Oaks

Let's face it..those of us who live in the Midwestern section of the United States of America are probably complaining about the cold right now. And it IS cold. Tonight's temperature will be somewhere around -8 degrees F here in Omaha, NE. Burr. And some of my Australian/New Zealand friends are probably complaining about the heat. Go figure. Isn't it human nature to complain about the weather?

The Town of Whiney-Oaks

 

In the town of Whiney-Oaks,

Lives a passel of whiney folks,
They gripe, complain all day long,
Singing their silly, whiney-day song.

“When it’s cold, we want it hot.

When it’s rainy, we want it not.
When it’s sunny, it shouldn’t be.
We love to live in our misery.”

In the midst of these whiney blokes,

Lives a wee boy of different strokes.
Perry-boy likes all sorts of weather:
The rain, the sleet, it doesn’t matter.

When others gripe about the snow,

This dear, young lad will gladly go
Outside to skate and to play,
Having fun on a wintry day.

Not once will Perry-boy ever sing,

That song of woe in the spring,
While others whine about pollen from flowers,
He will sniff them for hours and hours.

On a hot, summery noon,

When other Whinies begin to swoon,
Perry-boy laughs with utter glee,
Swimming and biking joyfully.

Colorful leaves falling from the tree,

Makes his heart sing quite merrily,
While others gripe about the work,
Which most Whinies would rather shirk.

“Perry-boy,” others like to say,

“How can you enjoy this lousy day?
Come join us in our poor misery,
For this is the way it ought to be.”

“No, dear Whinies, I cannot be,

This thing you are asking of me,
I can’t sing your sad, silly song,
Not now nor my whole-life long.”

“Boy, what makes you not want to sing,

The song that means most everything,
To all the other Whiney blokes,
Who live in the town of Whiney-Oaks?”

“Folks, I’m glad you truly want to know,

The secret I found some time ago,
In the holy Book of books indeed,
There is a truth that has set me free.

You see, today I choose to rejoice,

It is truly a much finer choice,
To know that this is a special day,
God has given me to enjoy and play.

For today, I choose what is true,

What is noble for me and for you.
I choose on this day to gladly see,
What is pure and ever-so lovely.

My life isn’t always so grand,
Some days don’t go the way that I plan.
Yet, when I dwell on my Lord’s grace,
He gives me strength for the trials I face.

When I choose to thank the Lord,

To rejoice in His faithful Word,
It helps me to open my heart and see
That each day is a blessing to me.”

All the Whinies began shaking their heads,

Not quite understanding all he had said,
Each one went his whiney-filled way,
Ready to face another whiney-filled day.

Perry-boy felt a tug on his shirt,

Turning he smiled at Peggy and Burt,
Two little Whinies from Perry-boy’s school,
They thought what he said was ever-so cool.

“Can we play?” they hopefully asked,

“We don’t want to whine like in the past,
We want to rejoice in the Lord above,
We want to feel His grace and His love.”

Perry-boy was grinning from ear to ear,

Thankful for his new friends standing there,
“The three of us is a good start!”
He sang with an ever-grateful heart.

Over the years as the word was spread,

Others chose to live by what he had said,
Enjoying the season whether cold or hot,
Praising the Lord in good times and not.

The truth of God’s Word is plain to see,

Rejoice in Him always, and always you’ll be
Content no matter what life brings your way,
Enjoying the best in each blessed day.

 

Reflection Page:  “Rejoice in the Lord always.  I will say it again:  Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all.  The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable-if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-think about such things.”  Philippians 4:4-8 (NIV)