STAND FIRM

Stand Firm
by Janice Price

Standing behind the courtesy counter, Vickie rattled the Safeway newspaper ads, diligently seeking the sale on thirty pound bags of cat litter that I assured her was in print. Funds were limited and I was adept at finding bargains.

Benny, my friend and neighbor, was standing at the checkout line trying to look inconspicuous. I wasn’t able to do any heavy lifting, and he had walked across the street with me to lift the bag in and out of the shopping cart.

“I can’t find it anywhere, “Vickie said.

“But it’s there,” I insisted. “It’s what I’m here for today.” I wasn’t angry or argumentative, but since some of the city stores could be sneaky about putting higher priced items on shelves in place of sale items or not changing the regular price to the sale price, I had learned to stand firm when I was in the right.

“It is on sale,” called one of the cashiers. “I saw the ad myself.”

Vickie finally conceded defeat. “Okay, go ahead and give it to her at the sale price.”

Benny wheeled the cart home and carried the bag up the stairs to my apartment. I grabbed the morning paper and searched the ads for the item. I knew I was right. That litter was on sale.

And sure enough it was on sale at that price – at the ABCO store half a mile away.

Oops.

Benny thought this was hilarious. I was embarrassed. Vickie was relieved.

“Thank you so much for coming back. I thought I was losing my mind. I have been searching the ads since you left,” she said. The cashier who had seen it advertised? She was just trying to resolve the standoff. “Besides,” Vickie joked, “you don’t want to be kept out of heaven over thirty-seven cents.”

It has been many years since this incident and numerous things have changed in my life, but I still tend to stand firm when I believe I’m in the right. Perhaps a little less often, since it takes time and energy to stand up for minor details, but I can dig in my heels for major items.

There are fewer store ads to confuse me where I live now, but there are more confusing doctrines and religious views than ever. One could easily become ensnared and led away from the one true God without ever realizing the subtlety of the error. John wrote that Christians should test the spirits to see whether they are from God and that is just as applicable today as it was then.

The Internet can be a blessing. It is capable of putting large amounts of factual data at our fingertips, but scams and rumors abound, people are not always what they seem, and there is a glut of misinformation readily available. False prophets can have Internet access and websites too. If we aren’t spiritually discerning, the eventual cost can be much greater than a little embarrassment and thirty-seven cents in cash.

One day Jesus will separate the sheep from the goats and we want to be counted among the sheep in the Good Shepherd’s flock, so we need to be aware of who we are following and what we believe. And when we know we are in the right, we need to stand firm.

© 2004 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com

AFTER THE STORM

After the Storm
by Janice Price

The rain began in earnest as I pulled out of my brother’s yard. The sky darkened, and even with the windshield wipers clicking rapidly, it was hard to see the lanes in the road. I left my dog Merci in the car while I ran the short distance into the auto parts store to return a brake spoon. As the clerk processed the return, the storm intensified. I hated to leave the warm, dry building, but Merci was happy to see she wouldn’t have to suffer the storm alone.

It wasn’t far to Mother’s. I sped up her stairs to leave some things she needed, anxious to get home and into some dry clothes, but when I left I realized I had forgotten one other important stop and I would need to retrace part of my route. It wasn’t a pleasant prospect.

The rain stopped as suddenly as it began. Intent on where I was going, around the curve on the hill, I almost missed it. But I glanced to the east and was bedazzled by the beauty of a rainbow.

Oh, what a cheerful sight. Undaunted by the dark clouds rolling across the sky as the storm moved northeast, the rainbow reflected such rich color it couldn’t be contained in one arch alone. It was a double rainbow.

I pulled into a parking lot where two women were standing, just as entranced as I was. I wished there were a camera handy to capture the beauty of this special moment. After the intensity of the downpour and the early darkness, the rainbow lighted up the sky, almost as if God was smiling down and saying, See, I’m always with you, even through life’s storms.

Life is full of storms. Some are as a gentle mist, others are as hurricanes. Sometimes they seem to arrive from all directions and pound us with gale force winds that can even topple a mighty oak tree.

Storms strengthen our faith. They teach us to look to God for the endurance and courage to weather them. As we become stronger, we help and encourage others to stand strong in their own storms.

Thunderstorms are intimidating, especially when the thunder rolls directly overhead, or a lightning bolt hits a transformer or starts a fire, but God is with us through the sunshine, as well as through the darkness.

The darker and more intense the storm, the brighter the rainbow God has waiting on the other side.

© 2004 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com

UNDER ATTACK

Under Attack
by Janice Price

“Jody, do you know where I can buy an inexpensive golf club?” I asked my golf-loving neighbor.

“Sure. I have a starter set. What kind do you want?”

“One I can use as a weapon.”

When Merci and I resumed our walk, I was swinging a golf club, Jody’s donation for our protection.

As he drove by, the county Animal Control and Shelter Manager leaned his head out the window, to yell laughingly, “Hey, ya got ya a big stick!”

He knew the reason for the club but not that the city Animal Control Officer had advised me to carry one. I’m not sure how effectively I might be able to swing it in an emergency, but after last week I no longer feel safe walking Merci. Someone left their gates open and three aggressive dogs attacked her. They didn’t bother me, only the little dog that had unsuccessfully tried to make friends with them each time we passed.

Two of the dogs bit Merci and then hemmed her on three sides. I needed to get her off the ground quickly. I started blowing a whistle and screaming for someone to call the police. This would stop the dogs temporarily, and then we would all dance as I tried to lift a moving fifteen to twenty pound dog. I whistled and yelled and we danced until I finally had Merci in one arm.

She panicked, kicked free and started yelping, and I had to wrestle her back into one arm again. The last time I stopped to yell at the lead dog to go home, I was ready to collapse and could barely breathe. A woman yelled that she was calling the police. I turned and our mailman was standing on the corner. The dogs disappeared, a stranger took Merci and I in, and after Animal Control arrived she gave us a ride home.

This was an overt attack, but we have an enemy that is often so subtle we don’t recognize we are under attack. Some people don’t even believe he exists. But the Bible tells us to resist our enemy, a roaring lion on the prowl. (I Peter 5:8, 9) How? Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. (Ephesians 6:11 NIV)

We walked by there this morning for the first time since the attack. My insides were jelly and I gripped the club tightly. I hope I never have to swing it as a weapon, but I would protect Merci or myself with it if necessary.

True protection, however, comes from wearing the armor of God. Never leave home without it.

© 2004 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com

THANKSGIVING INSPIRATION

God gives us beautiful trees and faithful friends.

Thanksgiving Inspiration
by Janice Price

This admission is going to startle many of those who know me, and my mother may well pass out from the shock, but this needs to be said.

There are times my mother is an absolute inspiration and encouragement.

Life hasn’t been easy for her and it is especially hard for her now. She has been housebound for several years, since before I moved across country to live nearby, which means she has been forgotten by society and is often lonely. Her eyesight and hearing are poor and her speech isn’t always clear. She propels herself around the house in a wheelchair by using her feet, determined to remain as independent and self-sufficient as possible.

Everything in her circumstances is working against her, and too often this includes her daughter and her one son in this area. Five years ago we buried another son, the one who lived with her. Of course, having four living children doesn’t replace the one she lost.

Doug and I try to help her, but he often works long hours, so I am Mother’s pack mule. In other words, I run her errands and haul everything upstairs from the street to the sidewalk and then up the porch steps. This isn’t easy for me, as I’m sure her neighbors are aware. Yes, I often complain – loudly!

So I was amazed when the thought occurred to me that I wanted to do something really special for her for Thanksgiving this year. I could see it in my mind. I would take my card table, cover it with a tablecloth, and set it with the familiar silverware, plates and glasses she gave me this summer when I cleaned out her storage shed. I hoped Doug and his friend Theresa could join us. It would be a lot of extra work, but we could have at least one special Thanksgiving together while we have the opportunity.

I never saw any food in my mind’s vision, only the table settings. I knew we didn’t have the funds for the meal, but I was still disappointed last weekend when the dream was lost to reality. There wouldn’t be a Thanksgiving meal, with or without a fancy table.

While I struggled with grumpy discouragement, Mother also had a dream that wasn’t to be. She wanted to treat me to a shopping spree for warm clothes today, the day after Thanksgiving.

"How could you think I would want to go shopping for myself when we need food?" I asked, in disbelief, proving once again that my natural walking position is with foot in mouth. I have since apologized for this, but still the hurt from the unkind remark lingers.

"I wanted to give you a special Thanksgiving," I told her.

"I guess God has other plans," she replied.

Funds became available Tuesday afternoon. Some people could plan a meal, thaw a turkey and rush to get it all done on time, but to do so much at the last minute would leave me out of commission for weeks. Everything in this small town is closed on Thanksgiving. Mother and I agreed to have pizza together on Wednesday afternoon and pumpkin pie on Thursday.

"Every day is Thanksgiving," Mother assured me. "It doesn’t matter what we have, I’ll be thankful for it."

"The pizza is courtesy of Mark and Janet," I told Mother after we ate, "but you bought the pumpkin pie for tomorrow."

I was barely home before Charles, a neighbor and member of our watch group, arrived, walking on crutches. His young grandson carried an air tank for Charles to blow out my gas space heaters. The weather was about to change and although my landlord had again forgotten me, Charles remembered and came to light the pilots.

A couple of hours later Martha, the local Red Cross manager, called and said she had something she wanted to share with "you and your mama." She brought half a cooked turkey.

Then Johnnie asked if she could drop off a chicken plate on Thanksgiving for "you and your mama." I never turn down her delicious cooking! She and her husband brought us a full meal yesterday.

Theresa invited me to her niece’s for sandwiches in the evening. She came by so I could follow her over there without getting lost. She brought a plate of turkey and stuffing for "you and your mama." Her niece sent me home with some leftover turkey and a slice of melt-in-your-mouth pecan pie.

By now I should know that God is much more generous than I am and that he doesn’t overlook the poor or the lonely. I’m so grateful for the kindness of all these people. This was a gentle reproof to me that God can and will provide without my help if I get out of his way and concentrate on his blessings instead of on what I don’t have.

It was also another reminder that God has not forgotten or abandoned my mother in her isolation.

Mother doesn’t talk much about personal matters, including her faith, so this was also a reminder that Mother has a faith strong enough to withstand disappointments and loneliness. So often in the daily grind, such as taking out her trash or carrying laundry back and forth, I lose sight of the fact that she’s not only my mother, but she’s a sister in Christ.

I don’t know that I’ll ever be an inspiration and encouragement to anyone, but I do pray I will remain as strong in my faith, no matter what the circumstances, as she has.

© 2004 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com

THANKSGIVING PROVISION

Thanksgiving Provision
by Janice Price

You’re going to have Thanksgiving dinner, courtesy of Pat.

The thought is strong and explicit, but confusing. Mother and I are okay with our plans for a Thanksgiving dinner of macaroni and cheese. It doesn’t matter that we can’t afford a big meal this year. We are still thankful for our blessings.

You’re going to have Thanksgiving dinner, courtesy of Pat. This thought is insistent.

I add the last of the clothes to the washer and return to my desk to read the mail. There is an envelope from my friend Pat, but no check. Still, You’re going to have Thanksgiving dinner, courtesy of Pat. By now I am thinking I am losing my mind.

The phone rings. Mother is excited. “Jan, I got a card from Pat. She sent me a check for our Thanksgiving dinner.”

The following day I will receive a note from Pat, “Your mother is treating you to Thanksgiving dinner.” But when I pick up the check Mother and I decide we should stick to the easy and cheap macaroni and cheese. Before I reach the bank, I remember how explicit the thought was earlier. I decide that if God says we are having Thanksgiving dinner that’s what we should purchase. There will be no dessert. A turkey and trimmings take all but fifty cents of the check. I stop at another store and spend that on an onion for the dressing.

Forty-eight hours later I start dinner preparations. I have learned to cook holiday meals the evening before, then pack our meals to reheat in the microwave at Mother’s home. I find the neck and giblets are frozen inside the turkey. They jiggle out under running water.

My brother Doug drops off some ice cream and laundry. “How long did you say that bird has been cooking?” he asks when I check on the small turkey. There is no tantalizing aroma floating around the kitchen.

“Three hours,” I reply.

“Something is wrong. It should be done by now. Are you sure the oven is working right?”

“It’s okay,” I say with more confidence that I am feeling.

Inside, I am praying: God, something definitely is wrong. Please don’t let me poison Mother with this turkey.

The phone rings. My friend Johnnie inquires, “Would you and your mother like for me to fix you a plate tomorrow? We’ll be glad to share with you. We’re having ham.”

I start to decline and remember this turkey is not cooperating like the turkeys in years past. “That would be wonderful, Johnnie. Thanks.”

I remove the aluminum foil tent and raise the oven temperature just a tad. An hour and ten minutes later I stick a meat thermometer in three different locations. All three readings tell me the internal temperature is higher than it needs to be. The turkey is done. It is well past dinnertime and I am famished, so I slice a little and nibble, but I am feeling a bit uneasy about whether the turkey is safe to eat.

I’m going to die is my first thought when I waken at 3:00 a.m. The back and leg pain went to bed with me but everything else is new. I decide to check on the turkey and see if it smells okay, so I pull the pan out of the refrigerator. It hooks the handle of a water pitcher and half a gallon of cold water flows through the refrigerator, into the vegetable bins and over the floor. I dump a sleeping cat off of the nearest cloth – Doug’s white shirts - for the refrigerator and grab a rag for the floor.

At 5:00 a.m., I find the thermometer and check my temperature - 95.6º. I am not running a fever and I don’t have food poisoning. It is just a reaction to the changing weather and rising humidity. I manage a couple of hours of rest.

I am clumsy, befogged, and occasionally dizzy Thanksgiving morning. It is all I can do to shower, prepare a pot of tea, pour the liquid into two thermoses, and feed the animals. I take two aspirin with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and find a tube of muscle rub for my neck. These are barely finished and Johnnie is on her way with the food.

“I’ll tell you later what a lifesaver you are,” I tell her as I accept the two meals that include dessert.

I put the thermoses of tea and the bags of food into the car and drive to Mother’s house.

“What’s in this?” Mother asks as she looks at a covered container.

“I have no idea,” I tell her. “I didn’t pack this.”

Mother is surprised to find a ham dinner and a special dish just for her. “Didn’t you cook the turkey?”

Later, Doug calls. “My friend Theresa is sending a little something for you and Mother. I’ll be by with the plates shortly.”

I believe God has a sense of humor. It is times such as this that I believe it the most. While I was unable to sleep early this morning, I read in Psalms 111:5a, “He provides food for those who fear him.”

© 2004 Janice Price
mercyandpercy@yahoo.com
www.mercyandpercy.com