Forgetting to Remember
by Janice Price
"I don’t mind helping but don’t ask me to cook anything". That’s my usual reply when asked to participate in any meal preparation. My cooking skills have not been improving with age but they are growing more creative.
A few months ago I tried to bake innovative pies. It didn’t surprise me that the mixture didn’t fill the pie plates. So many products today have higher prices and shrinking measurements. But I was surprised when I began to put away the baking supplies. I didn’t remember buying an extra, large can of pumpkin. The pies were tasty, although the main ingredient was added to hot, spiced milk in crusts.
Today, I baked Mother some corn muffins. I mixed self-rising flour, egg, milk, oil, and sugar. I spooned the mixture into a greased muffin pan, popped it into a hot oven and started to put away the baking supplies. Oops.
I have noticed various omissions occur most often when I am rushed or distracted. I sometimes email the neighborhood watch president, “Here are the meeting minutes”, but forget to attach them.
I write things down so I don’t forget why I am going into the kitchen or what I need at the store, but I still sometimes have to drive home to pick up my shopping list.
Today I neglected to follow an important physical dress code - always wear matching shoes. I wonder whether anyone noticed a shopper wearing one brown shoe and one black sneaker.
I’m not alone in dealing with embarrassing or comical lapses of memory, but bloopers are minor faults, which affect my pride and can usually be corrected with a little ingenuity or a change of shoes.
Major faults affect others and can do irreparable damage to a relationship. For example, when I forget to remember the standard Jesus set and raise my voice in anger, using words I can’t erase. When I am rude, pushy or abrasive to others. When I am impatient and don’t take the time to listen to someone who is lonely or to slow my step to another’s pace. When I focus on another’s imperfections and am blind to my own. When I forget to remember that a smile or a word of praise can make a difference in another’s day.
Today I sprinkled a little corn meal on top of the muffins and stirred each with the tip of a spoon handle. The muffins tasted fine, though different. But a sprinkle of corn meal on the open wound of someone I have offended won’t relieve the pain.
© 2005 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
IN TANDEM WITH JESUS
In Tandem with Jesus
by Janice Price
“Would you be interested in reading my story, about how I went from a circus trapeze artist to a quadriplegic?” Vickie asked in an E-mail.
My curiosity was piqued and I ordered both of her books. They were added to the reading material pile where they gathered dust for nearly three years.
Recently, I came across them for the umpteenth time. I opened one autographed copy and read, “Janice, Choose joy!” After reading Vickie’s story, I understand this wasn’t an offhand comment. Joy was attained only after she came to terms – God’s terms – with her life after quadriplegia.
Vickie and her husband Gary were practicing a new two-and-a-half-somersaults feat when she lost her sense of direction and plummeted head-first into the net below, breaking her neck and ending a career she loved. After three years and three suicide attempts, she was admitted to a psychiatric ward for eight and a half weeks. While there, she came to accept that her paralysis was permanent and that she needed help in order to cope with life. She asked God for that help and Jesus became her new “Ringmaster”.
Gary left her on the fourth anniversary of the accident. Yet, despite her paralysis, Vickie was able to live on her own, with assistance from caring neighbors and part time home health aides. She returned to school to get a degree in social work in order to help others with disabilities. Her physical life was an ongoing battle against pain and respiratory problems, but she still maintained a full and active life, as well as a sense of humor.
Vickie was skydiving before she learned to perform on a trapeze. Her performing days ended but the thrill of skydiving would take a new twist. Tandem skydiving was relatively new at the time she first tried it, but with an experienced instructor wearing a harness with an oversized parachute pack, Vickie could participate.
“In tandem” means to have one (or more) after or behind another. They need to be going in the same direction for the same purpose, as in riding a tandem bicycle or jumping tandem from an airplane.
When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” John 8:12 (NIV).
Once Vickie turned her life over to God, she “walked” in tandem with (followed) Jesus until she died in October of 2003.
© 2005 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com
by Janice Price
“Would you be interested in reading my story, about how I went from a circus trapeze artist to a quadriplegic?” Vickie asked in an E-mail.
My curiosity was piqued and I ordered both of her books. They were added to the reading material pile where they gathered dust for nearly three years.
Recently, I came across them for the umpteenth time. I opened one autographed copy and read, “Janice, Choose joy!” After reading Vickie’s story, I understand this wasn’t an offhand comment. Joy was attained only after she came to terms – God’s terms – with her life after quadriplegia.
Vickie and her husband Gary were practicing a new two-and-a-half-somersaults feat when she lost her sense of direction and plummeted head-first into the net below, breaking her neck and ending a career she loved. After three years and three suicide attempts, she was admitted to a psychiatric ward for eight and a half weeks. While there, she came to accept that her paralysis was permanent and that she needed help in order to cope with life. She asked God for that help and Jesus became her new “Ringmaster”.
Gary left her on the fourth anniversary of the accident. Yet, despite her paralysis, Vickie was able to live on her own, with assistance from caring neighbors and part time home health aides. She returned to school to get a degree in social work in order to help others with disabilities. Her physical life was an ongoing battle against pain and respiratory problems, but she still maintained a full and active life, as well as a sense of humor.
Vickie was skydiving before she learned to perform on a trapeze. Her performing days ended but the thrill of skydiving would take a new twist. Tandem skydiving was relatively new at the time she first tried it, but with an experienced instructor wearing a harness with an oversized parachute pack, Vickie could participate.
“In tandem” means to have one (or more) after or behind another. They need to be going in the same direction for the same purpose, as in riding a tandem bicycle or jumping tandem from an airplane.
When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” John 8:12 (NIV).
Once Vickie turned her life over to God, she “walked” in tandem with (followed) Jesus until she died in October of 2003.
© 2005 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
SITTING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TABLE
Sitting in the Middle of the Table
by Janice Price
It began as a small group of church members from one particular church. It is still a small group but the group leader, or group facilitator as she prefers to be called, has opened her arms to neighbors and relatives of members. A friend and neighbor of the facilitator, one member, and one member’s mother who attended before she moved out of state have died in the last year or so. Several have moved away and one “snowbird” (winter visitor) will return next winter. Each person added something unique to the group and each is missed.
We meet one evening each month for a home Bible study, after 9 p.m. in the winter months and after 10 p.m. during daylight savings time. The last Bible study and fellowship ended at midnight.
There is something unusual about my membership in this group and it isn’t just the late hour of the meetings. Although I was not a member of the small group when I lived in Arizona, the group facilitator and original members were from the church I attended when I lived in that state. Now I live much “closer” - only two thousand miles and two time zones from the meeting place - and attend regularly, thanks to the generosity and perseverance of the facilitator and the marvels of modern technology.
A few years ago, the local newspaper picked this small group to photograph for an article it was doing on the church. It was exciting to see the news photo of the smiling group sitting around the dining table. I was easy to spot. I was the one wearing pajamas, but no one seemed to notice since I looked more like a telephone sitting in the middle of the table. Oh, right, I was the telephone sitting in the middle of the table.
Yes, I attend these meetings by telephone, a speakerphone to be exact. The facilitator places the telephone in the middle of the table, hits the speaker button, and dials my number. When I answer, everyone speaks at once and I try to discern voices and guess who is present. Every so often they add a new voice to confuse me. Occasionally, I think of how it must rattle a newcomer to be asked to, “speak at the telephone so Jan can hear you.”
At first, it was hard to feel like part of the group. In truth, a cold telephone receiver can’t offer the same sense of camaraderie and fellowship as live people eating, drinking and flipping Bible pages together at the same table. And it was hard to hold the telephone receiver to my ear for one to two hours at a stretch and look up Bible verses when it was my turn to read them.. My neck would spasm. Now I have a speakerphone with a plug-in headset and the time passes too quickly.
Mother, who lives down the street from me, was startled the first time she received a card from the group with individual greetings, including one that read, “Mother, Wish you were here, Jan.” The group always asks about Mother and often prays specifically for her. Their concern for her is sweet and genuine.
I have not met all of the members that have come and gone over the years, but my mind has a mental image to go with each voice I can’t actually put a face to. Although the discussions can sometimes become animated, we laugh a lot and enjoy spending time together.
It can be easy to become lost in a large group, but a person can not hide within a small group. Members get to know each other’s needs, pray for one another, uplift one another, and the fellowship can be fun. It would be more fun if my group would occasionally pass some of the chocolate pudding cake and cherry vanilla ice cream my way, but even without the sugary incentives, this small group has encouraged my spiritual walk in Christ and has been a support during some rough times.
I highly recommend a small Bible study group, preferably a local one, to enrich your spiritual walk. But for someone - a disabled or housebound person, for example - who is unable to attend a group in person, there is always the option of a telephone sitting in the middle of the table.
© 2005 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com
by Janice Price
It began as a small group of church members from one particular church. It is still a small group but the group leader, or group facilitator as she prefers to be called, has opened her arms to neighbors and relatives of members. A friend and neighbor of the facilitator, one member, and one member’s mother who attended before she moved out of state have died in the last year or so. Several have moved away and one “snowbird” (winter visitor) will return next winter. Each person added something unique to the group and each is missed.
We meet one evening each month for a home Bible study, after 9 p.m. in the winter months and after 10 p.m. during daylight savings time. The last Bible study and fellowship ended at midnight.
There is something unusual about my membership in this group and it isn’t just the late hour of the meetings. Although I was not a member of the small group when I lived in Arizona, the group facilitator and original members were from the church I attended when I lived in that state. Now I live much “closer” - only two thousand miles and two time zones from the meeting place - and attend regularly, thanks to the generosity and perseverance of the facilitator and the marvels of modern technology.
A few years ago, the local newspaper picked this small group to photograph for an article it was doing on the church. It was exciting to see the news photo of the smiling group sitting around the dining table. I was easy to spot. I was the one wearing pajamas, but no one seemed to notice since I looked more like a telephone sitting in the middle of the table. Oh, right, I was the telephone sitting in the middle of the table.
Yes, I attend these meetings by telephone, a speakerphone to be exact. The facilitator places the telephone in the middle of the table, hits the speaker button, and dials my number. When I answer, everyone speaks at once and I try to discern voices and guess who is present. Every so often they add a new voice to confuse me. Occasionally, I think of how it must rattle a newcomer to be asked to, “speak at the telephone so Jan can hear you.”
At first, it was hard to feel like part of the group. In truth, a cold telephone receiver can’t offer the same sense of camaraderie and fellowship as live people eating, drinking and flipping Bible pages together at the same table. And it was hard to hold the telephone receiver to my ear for one to two hours at a stretch and look up Bible verses when it was my turn to read them.. My neck would spasm. Now I have a speakerphone with a plug-in headset and the time passes too quickly.
Mother, who lives down the street from me, was startled the first time she received a card from the group with individual greetings, including one that read, “Mother, Wish you were here, Jan.” The group always asks about Mother and often prays specifically for her. Their concern for her is sweet and genuine.
I have not met all of the members that have come and gone over the years, but my mind has a mental image to go with each voice I can’t actually put a face to. Although the discussions can sometimes become animated, we laugh a lot and enjoy spending time together.
It can be easy to become lost in a large group, but a person can not hide within a small group. Members get to know each other’s needs, pray for one another, uplift one another, and the fellowship can be fun. It would be more fun if my group would occasionally pass some of the chocolate pudding cake and cherry vanilla ice cream my way, but even without the sugary incentives, this small group has encouraged my spiritual walk in Christ and has been a support during some rough times.
I highly recommend a small Bible study group, preferably a local one, to enrich your spiritual walk. But for someone - a disabled or housebound person, for example - who is unable to attend a group in person, there is always the option of a telephone sitting in the middle of the table.
© 2005 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
ANGER
Anger
by Janice Price
The face in the rear view mirror was so distorted it was impossible to tell whether the driver in the vehicle behind me was a man or a woman. Both fists were waving wildly and the mouth was contorted as the lips formed angry words. It was not a pleasant view and my ears burned with what was undoubtedly being screamed at me.
What did I do to initiate this? I stopped to make a left turn and waited for the oncoming traffic to pass before making the turn. The car behind me speeded up instead of slowing down. At the last moment, the tires squealed and the car swerved hard to the right. And suddenly it was almost touching my bumper – deliberately almost hitting my car so that I might have a closer look at the temper tantrum being thrown at my expense.
“Angry drivers!” was the way I greeted my brother as I pulled into his yard.
“Was your turn signal working?” he asked.
We checked the turn signals and brake lights. All the lights were working. Road rage seemed to be the only explanation for what had just occurred.
Thankfully, the patient people on the road today compensate for the short-tempered people such as the angry driver I “ran into.”. Whenever that image comes into my mind, I try to offset it with a reminder of the kind people who rescued me when I was walking during a thunderstorm or offered to give me a lift when I would be walking home burdened with purchases.
There was a time when strangers stopped to help someone stranded along the road or to offer someone a ride. Today it can be dangerous to do either. That’s one nice thing about having moved to a small town. When I was without transportation in a big city, people would watch me struggle to carry or cart groceries home. When I moved here, neighbors sometimes would stop and offer to help. In the big city, everyone was a stranger. In this smaller city, it’s easier to spot familiar faces.
I can remember the face of the angry driver but I can’t remember the faces of the young couple who pulled off the main road to help me after I stepped on a curb that wasn’t there. Tall grass caused the curb to appear to extend farther out than it actually did. They were driving on the main highway and noticed me sitting in a side street with my feet propped on bags of Mother’s laundry, unable to get back on my feet without help and waiting to be rescued. They turned around to check on whether I was injured. (I was, or I wouldn’t have been sitting in the street.)
Anger is an unpleasant experience, whether it’s our own anger being vented or someone else’s. When I dream, I don’t want it to be a nightmare about someone waving both fists at me. I want to dream about the hope, love and laughter of life. If nothing else, I can dream about the laugh I imagine the young couple shared after they helped me to my feet and watched me pick up the bags of laundry and limp to my car.
I wish for the angry driver one of life’s embarrassing memories to laugh about and a sound night’s sleep. And I pray for that he or she might find “the peace of God which surpasses all understanding,” (Philippians 4:7a).
© 2005 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com
by Janice Price
The face in the rear view mirror was so distorted it was impossible to tell whether the driver in the vehicle behind me was a man or a woman. Both fists were waving wildly and the mouth was contorted as the lips formed angry words. It was not a pleasant view and my ears burned with what was undoubtedly being screamed at me.
What did I do to initiate this? I stopped to make a left turn and waited for the oncoming traffic to pass before making the turn. The car behind me speeded up instead of slowing down. At the last moment, the tires squealed and the car swerved hard to the right. And suddenly it was almost touching my bumper – deliberately almost hitting my car so that I might have a closer look at the temper tantrum being thrown at my expense.
“Angry drivers!” was the way I greeted my brother as I pulled into his yard.
“Was your turn signal working?” he asked.
We checked the turn signals and brake lights. All the lights were working. Road rage seemed to be the only explanation for what had just occurred.
Thankfully, the patient people on the road today compensate for the short-tempered people such as the angry driver I “ran into.”. Whenever that image comes into my mind, I try to offset it with a reminder of the kind people who rescued me when I was walking during a thunderstorm or offered to give me a lift when I would be walking home burdened with purchases.
There was a time when strangers stopped to help someone stranded along the road or to offer someone a ride. Today it can be dangerous to do either. That’s one nice thing about having moved to a small town. When I was without transportation in a big city, people would watch me struggle to carry or cart groceries home. When I moved here, neighbors sometimes would stop and offer to help. In the big city, everyone was a stranger. In this smaller city, it’s easier to spot familiar faces.
I can remember the face of the angry driver but I can’t remember the faces of the young couple who pulled off the main road to help me after I stepped on a curb that wasn’t there. Tall grass caused the curb to appear to extend farther out than it actually did. They were driving on the main highway and noticed me sitting in a side street with my feet propped on bags of Mother’s laundry, unable to get back on my feet without help and waiting to be rescued. They turned around to check on whether I was injured. (I was, or I wouldn’t have been sitting in the street.)
Anger is an unpleasant experience, whether it’s our own anger being vented or someone else’s. When I dream, I don’t want it to be a nightmare about someone waving both fists at me. I want to dream about the hope, love and laughter of life. If nothing else, I can dream about the laugh I imagine the young couple shared after they helped me to my feet and watched me pick up the bags of laundry and limp to my car.
I wish for the angry driver one of life’s embarrassing memories to laugh about and a sound night’s sleep. And I pray for that he or she might find “the peace of God which surpasses all understanding,” (Philippians 4:7a).
© 2005 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
THE OPEN DOOR
The Open Door
by Janice Price
There was a moment of panic when I walked into the living room. Crystal, the oldest male cat, was sitting on the wrong side of the front screen door. Obviously, I had locked but not properly closed the door after I accepted a package from the Federal Express delivery man.
The door was ajar and Crystal was turning his head slowly back and forth, looking past the front porch steps and then back into the house. He has been a house cat for all but the first few weeks of his life, and although he is the top cat inside, his outdoor survival skills have dulled after six years of his food being served in a bowl. Also, he wasn’t wearing a collar with his rabies tag attached, so he would be fair game for an Animal Control Officer to pick him up as a stray if he wandered off to see the outside world.
While Crystal’s head was still turning slowly from the porch steps to inside the house as he contemplated which direction to go, I calmly walked over and brought him inside. He accepted this without a fuss, content to have the decision made for him.
The moment of panic turned into a smile as I thought of how we all have to make decisions at open doors at various times in life. When we are young, our parents watch over us and make decisions for us, assuming the role of protector and conscience, but their goal should be to teach us to make responsible decisions on our own.
One of your classmates offers you a cigarette. You know it’s addictive and bad for your health. The door is ajar. Do you light the cigarette or do you say, “No, thanks.”
Well, you made the wrong choice that time. Now you are a new parent. You know second-hand smoke is unhealthy for your baby. The door is ajar again. Will you make the right choice this time?
You take your first drink and then a second. Now your drinking is tearing apart your family and interfering with your ability to do your job. The door is ajar. Will you continue in denial of your problem or will you take that first step to get help?
Your email box fills with spam messages daily. Many of the messages have lewd titles in the subject lines. Are you going to delete all of the messages without opening any of them? The door is ajar to temptation. Which side of the door will you choose?
Are you a drug addict, a wife beater, a child or elder abuser, a chronic liar, hard-hearted and unforgiving, an adulterer, a slacker, a workaholic, or a – (fill in the blank)? If so, you have stood at the open door and made wrong choices that have affected your own life and the lives of those around you. Perhaps you are reaping the physical consequences of your actions: you are serving a prison sentence, your mate has left you, your children or your entire family have cut you out of their lives.
God does not take sin lightly, yet He has made provision for repentance, forgiveness and newness of life. We all make numerous choices, some good and some we would prefer to forget. Some we can never forget because repentance and forgiveness of sin does not pay the physical death penalty for a murderer or pay the physical debt to society for another crime. We can’t undo any physical, mental or emotional damage we have inflicted on others either.
In Revelation 3:20, Christ says, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, “I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.”
I scooped up Crystal while he was still debating which side of the open door he wanted to be on and trying to work up the courage to explore the unknown. I’m past the point where someone else can make decisions for me. I have to make my own decisions and take responsibility for them.
I make a lot of mistakes and it might be hard for others to tell sometimes, but I know which side of the open door I want to be on - the same side as Jesus. What about you?
© 2005 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com
by Janice Price
There was a moment of panic when I walked into the living room. Crystal, the oldest male cat, was sitting on the wrong side of the front screen door. Obviously, I had locked but not properly closed the door after I accepted a package from the Federal Express delivery man.
The door was ajar and Crystal was turning his head slowly back and forth, looking past the front porch steps and then back into the house. He has been a house cat for all but the first few weeks of his life, and although he is the top cat inside, his outdoor survival skills have dulled after six years of his food being served in a bowl. Also, he wasn’t wearing a collar with his rabies tag attached, so he would be fair game for an Animal Control Officer to pick him up as a stray if he wandered off to see the outside world.
While Crystal’s head was still turning slowly from the porch steps to inside the house as he contemplated which direction to go, I calmly walked over and brought him inside. He accepted this without a fuss, content to have the decision made for him.
The moment of panic turned into a smile as I thought of how we all have to make decisions at open doors at various times in life. When we are young, our parents watch over us and make decisions for us, assuming the role of protector and conscience, but their goal should be to teach us to make responsible decisions on our own.
One of your classmates offers you a cigarette. You know it’s addictive and bad for your health. The door is ajar. Do you light the cigarette or do you say, “No, thanks.”
Well, you made the wrong choice that time. Now you are a new parent. You know second-hand smoke is unhealthy for your baby. The door is ajar again. Will you make the right choice this time?
You take your first drink and then a second. Now your drinking is tearing apart your family and interfering with your ability to do your job. The door is ajar. Will you continue in denial of your problem or will you take that first step to get help?
Your email box fills with spam messages daily. Many of the messages have lewd titles in the subject lines. Are you going to delete all of the messages without opening any of them? The door is ajar to temptation. Which side of the door will you choose?
Are you a drug addict, a wife beater, a child or elder abuser, a chronic liar, hard-hearted and unforgiving, an adulterer, a slacker, a workaholic, or a – (fill in the blank)? If so, you have stood at the open door and made wrong choices that have affected your own life and the lives of those around you. Perhaps you are reaping the physical consequences of your actions: you are serving a prison sentence, your mate has left you, your children or your entire family have cut you out of their lives.
God does not take sin lightly, yet He has made provision for repentance, forgiveness and newness of life. We all make numerous choices, some good and some we would prefer to forget. Some we can never forget because repentance and forgiveness of sin does not pay the physical death penalty for a murderer or pay the physical debt to society for another crime. We can’t undo any physical, mental or emotional damage we have inflicted on others either.
In Revelation 3:20, Christ says, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, “I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.”
I scooped up Crystal while he was still debating which side of the open door he wanted to be on and trying to work up the courage to explore the unknown. I’m past the point where someone else can make decisions for me. I have to make my own decisions and take responsibility for them.
I make a lot of mistakes and it might be hard for others to tell sometimes, but I know which side of the open door I want to be on - the same side as Jesus. What about you?
© 2005 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com
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