Kindness and Compassion Search for Opportunities

I don’t usually answer the phone at our coffee shop. You’ll find me in the backroom doing paperwork, checking inventory and placing orders. On this particular day, however, I answered the phone. Greeting the person on the other end, I asked how I could help her. She asked to speak to our manager. He had left for the day, so I told her I could take a message.

She asked me if I was the owner, and I replied that I was. It caused me some concern! What could have possibly happened to warrant a call from a customer? Did her mocha taste bad? My racing mind relaxed as she began her story.

“I went to your coffee shop for the first time today with a friend, and the experience we had with your employees changed my day! I had just come from an appointment with hospice care and we decided we needed some coffee and found your shop. Your staff gave us an experience that lifted my spirits! They didn’t have any idea of my situation. But the greeting they gave to me and my friend was grandiose! And the conversation we bantered in completely took my mind off the inevitable – that I’m dying. Please pass on my deepest thanks to both of them. They changed my day.”

I was speechless for a moment, then caught my composure and offered her my deepest sympathy. She told me that death is a given. We all are going to face it one day. Her day was just going to be sooner than she had hoped for. As I hung up the phone, the tasks that had captivated my focus and had argued for my attention were now a blur in the background.

This was a divine appointment that changed my perspective. I didn’t catch what her name was, but her story caught me and taught me: We aren’t guaranteed a tomorrow! We aren’t even guaranteed to finish out the remainder of the day! Each moment is a gift. Therefore, life should be lived as if each day were our last day – with purpose and passion! With kindness and compassion!

I thought about what I could do to make a difference in the lives of people whose paths crossed with mine. Kindness does not look for reasons. Compassion does not ask for limitations. Both search for opportunities. That day I challenged myself to be intentional in searching for opportunities to be the smile that someone needs or the encouragement that someone is longing for.

Every person has a story. Some have an event going on in their lives that is bringing them an indescribable heartache. Others may be in great need of forgiveness or they may simply desire to be included. When we recognize the value of each individual and extend ourselves in a warm and caring way, it will change their day. And in turn, it will change our lives.

I read until it was done. He bled until it was finished

My heart has been brought to its knees tonight. In a new kind of awe I look at an incredible Saviour who took all my sins and bore them, wore them and tore them in two, separating them as far as the east is from the west.

What brought me to this rarely visited realization was a parenting issue with Wolverine (nickname from school). Let me just begin by saying that parenting in the tech age is an enormous challenge if you want to raise godly children. Even with passwords on our computers, codes on our TV channels and random inspections of texting conversations, the wicked side of the media still has a very loud voice and some of our children are bent towards it.

Today, Wolverine was working an arm's length away from me at the table on our family's laptop. I entered the password to let him in, and then glanced every now and then to check what site he was on. What I didn't know, yet found out later by doing a history check, is that he was on a music site with lyrics that were xxx. My clue should have been that he had earbuds on.

Parenting failure on my part to ask what he was listening to.

Now I'll be the first to confess that I can be extreme when it comes to driving a point home. But my rational is that as long as I have children making extreme choices, then I'll have to come up with an extreme plan-of-correction method to get their attention.

I found the written lyrics for one of the songs Wolverine listened to. Then I asked him to sit in the chair next to me and read the words out loud. (No minors were present). My intention was to have him become horrified at the fact that he was being asked to read those nasty lyrics out loud - in front of his mother! My hope was that he would feel appalled at himself and apologize for going against our family values.

My intention and hope came to a dead stop.

He refused to do what was asked of him. But he didn't refuse with a repentant heart. He refused with determined defiance. I was firm in repeating the request. He was firm in refusing. He said he didn't see anything wrong with the music. It was just "Rap". I shot back, "If you don't see anything wrong with the music, then read the lyrics". He refused, standing stoutly in his position.

It is very rare that I am at a loss of what to do when I don't get compliance from the child I am requesting it from. But Wolverine is no longer a child. He's a young man. He is teetering between a dependent family member and a soon to be independent adult.

Reluctantly and with great hesitation, I slid over into the chair that I asked him to sit in. My voice quivered as I began to read the lyrics.

Out loud.

The words were nasty, and they were degrading. They were unconscionable and despicable. They were the taste of death in my mouth.

Wolverine stood there. He heard each word.
And he didn't tell me to stop.
He didn't cry out, "Mom! Don't read any more words! You don't deserve to have such filth on your lips! Mom, STOP! It was my bad so I'll take the seat and finish reading those awful lyrics".

He didn't want to own it.

I read until it was done.

Afterwards, I took a long walk to decompress. And to confess. And to address my God with a voice that cried out for reasoning. Then a new perspective, a glimpse of what redemption is all about, came to me in a fresh new way.

Without reluctance or hesitation, Jesus took the cross I should have been nailed on. His voice was broken as He read the "lyrics of the sins" in my life.

Out loud.

The words were nasty, and they were degrading. They were unconscionable and despicable. They were the taste of death in His mouth.

I stood there. I heard each word.
And I didn't tell Him to stop.
I didn't cry out, "Jesus! Don't read any more words! You don't deserve to have such filth on your lips! Jesus, STOP! It was my bad so I'll take the cross and finish reading those awful lyrics".

I didn't want to own it.

He took a long walk to Calvary. And His voice cried out "Father! Forgive them! For they don't know what they're doing".

I may have read until it was done.
But Jesus bled until it was finished.

The Chariot

Cars can take on a life of their own. They each have a unique personality. Some name their vehicles with fondness and adoration such as "The Blaze" or "Herbie". Others name their cars by their performance such as "Piece of Junk" and "Clunker".

I didn't name our new 2001 Ford Windstar. God did.

We had just traded in our 1992 Chevy Blazer which had the lingering scent of goat and baseball. Our oldest son, whom we'll refer to as "Special" (a nickname from high-school), had been on a traveling team since '92. One fundraiser we did involved a real goat. The idea was to go to a local business and say, "Business A has sent us to you (Business B) and wants you to babysit this goat. Now we can help you out for a fee of $20 and take this goat to another business of your choice, or you can babysit the goat for 30 minutes and we'll be back to pick him up."

The obvious would happen, so we would load the goat back up in The Blaze along with the $20 cash and head to the next business. Unfortunately, we had a goat with a bellyache. I found it interesting that the principle of gravity didn't apply to his irritable bowel. Although the goat was caged in the back, his "relief" permeated the carpeted area and barely missed our backseat passengers.

Fast forward to November 2001. Special had graduated from high school, and since the days of fund raising were over, The Blaze was traded in for a new Ford Windstar that seated seven. Since we had only two kids, Special at 18 years old with his own car and Sweet Tart (nickname from jhigh) who was just 13, it really didn't make a lot of sense that we would buy a seven passenger van. But 2001 was the year that you could buy a vehicle at 0% interest, so we decided that a big van for our travels and for when we had company would suit us just fine.

As I looked out my living room window that rainy November morning in 2001 and gazed at the beauty of our new van sitting in the driveway, the quietest voice I've ever heard whispered into my heart "The Chariot".

"What," I questioned?

"The Chariot", the voice repeated. "As you have done unto the least of these, so you have done unto ME. You will need this van because I have called your family to adopt orphans. They are royalty because they are MY sons and daughters. The van will be named The Chariot."

The calling to adopt was clear. The blood drained from my face. My toes went numb with fear about what this meant. I began to think of Jonah and wanted to find a whale to swallow me up . . . disobedience to "The Call" was beckoning me. Yet the wonder of what God would do in our obedience enticed me. Obedience would win.

A Prayer

It's been several months since I've had any time to write words of wisdom to you. We both have been quite consumed with opening up another coffee shop in Bellevue, and the urgent has crowded out the important. Instead of offering any wisdom in this post, let me just say a prayer.

Lord, I thank You for Your direction in our lives. You continue to be faithful to us, even when we fall short of being faithful to You. My prayer is that the enemy will not use our "busyiness" to allow the urgent things to push out what is really important. Instead, birth in us an urgency to seek You, to trust You, to honor You. Instead of asking You to bless us, Lord, I am asking that we would bless You in everything we do. In Jesus' name I pray - Amen.

I love you, Son. It is such a pleasure to be your mother and to work alongside you.

Richest of Fare

What could fare mean, other than a fee you pay to travel somewhere? A second meaning from Webster says "fare" is fine dining.

Son, you've seen my life over the 25 years of your life, and you know that dad and I never do any fine dining. We do leftover dining, fast-food dining and made from scratch dining. Fine dining is for folks who have unlimited income. And a suit in the closet.

You, your bride, dad and I got the opportunity to go to El Gaucho in Tacoma last week. Our employees blessed us with two $100 gift cards to treat ourselves to the richest of fare. Parking is valet and costs $6. We found free parking and walked. My frugal thinking allowed me to believe that inviting your sister and her guest would be alright - as $200 would surely cover the cost for 6 adults. Wrong! We had to throw in another $200 so that we wouldn't have to do dishes (or jail time)! But my goodness, talk about the richest of fare. It was lavish what we had to eat that night! I will not soon forget that evening!

Isaiah 55:2 "Why spend your money on what is not bread, and your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare."

Son - Our gracious God has a table set with the most succulent of food. Isaiah tells me that if I listen to HIM and walk in HIS truth (eat what is good), then my SOUL will delight in the richest of fare! Everyday I can have a continual feast that is better than any dinner at El Gaucho. And I don't have to pay for valet parking!

It all comes out in the wash

I had an interesting day with my dryer. A life lesson in the laundry room. Ironic how something that so seldom happens, happened back to back today. One of my dear family members left a tube of chapstick in their pants pocket. It must have gone through the washer alright - I suppose it was the cold water that kept it in tact. But a hot dryer??? The product melted and oozed out to give a blotchy look to our clothes. I took it in stride, after all - there are other things to get upset about. I continued with the next load. When I went to get the second batch out of the dryer, there was a minty clean scent that I recognized as speariment chewing gum. Another one of my beloved family members left a single, unwrapped piece of Orbit gum in their pocket. The washing machine took care of unwrapping it. The dryer took care of melting it all over the dryer drum and our clothes. Okay, Lord, what is the lesson here so that I can move on with the laundry?

1 Corinthians 5:6 - Don't you know that a little yeast works through the whole batch of dough? Get rid of the old yeast that you may be a new batch without yeast - the bread of sincerity and truth.

Something as small as a tube of chapstick, as small as a piece of gum, as small as a white lie, as small as a piece of gossip, as small as an envious thought can create so much damage in our lives. Let's get rid of it. And in the meantime, check all the pockets before doing laundry.

Contentment

There's a conversation that goes off like clockwork everyday after school, one that is so predictable and can be likened to a constant drip. It greets me minutes after my sixth grader walks in the door after school. I think her version of the verse in Timothy must go like this:

1Tim. 6:8 - "But if we have food, clothing and a cell phone, we will be content with that."

This is one deprived child. You see, she is one of the only students at her school without a cellphone (so she thinks). And she wastes no time after getting off the bus to engage me in a 17 minute conversation about how irritating all her friends are with their cellphones and how rude their texting is because it causes them to ignore her and about their "chatting amongst themselves" about their razors which causes her to feel left out. She hopes her life of despair will be solved by me rushing right out to buy her a cellphone. I listen with empathy and respond with great wisdom: "You need to choose new friends".

So I pondered today - do I whine and complain like a child to God when I want something that I can't have? Of course I do. Do I sound like a constant, irritating drip? Probably. Does He listen with empathy? I'm sure He does. And He always responds with His infinite wisdom: "You need to choose me". Ahh, yes. How simple the solution and how wonderful the contentment that follows.

1Tim. 6:6 - "But godliness with contentment is great gain."