Silver Boxes, Gifts of Encouragement (Part 2)

           Will I give silver boxes to those who’ve hurt me?

          Remember the classmate I mentioned in Part 1—the one who tormented me with a word that’s no longer even acceptable to use? Let me tell you what happened more than five decades later:

          When I “joined” Facebook in 2011, I thought about looking up this girl. That thought grew into a burden. I’d despised her previously, but no malice now. Just wondering if I would heal that memory if I found her.

          Would you believe I did? There she was on Facebook—plain as day. So, I wrote to her.

          Wonder of wonders, she responded. Not coldly. Instead, genuinely kind.

          As we corresponded over time, this girl shared about hardships in her life—ones I’d never realized. I ached for her although I still didn’t understand why she targeted me back in school; but now I saw she may’ve been “venting” some of what she endured.

          Then it happened. A reply I couldn’t even comprehend.

          This girl shared I was the only friend she had in school.

          Me? The one she called “retard?” Wow!

          I still can’t figure out the psychology behind all this (I basically failed that subject in college because I was…um, “learning-challenged”). But I’m smart enough to know something happened that magically changed when this girl shared her thoughts with me.

          I hadn’t realized what I meant to that girl. I didn’t even try back then. Mostly I dodged corners when I saw her coming. But somehow, she interpreted something I did as being a friend.

          Weird!

          These decades later, as the girl and I exchanged chat messages, a trust grew. Mine. Apparently not hers because she already thought I was a friend.

          Wild!

          So, the time came I was able to share Jesus with this hurting girl—now lady—who, by the way, still suffered from the effects of her childhood-carried-into-adulthood trauma. She graciously received a Bible from me. And she’s responded positively to prayers I cried out on her behalf through typed words.

          I apparently gave this former classmate a silver box way-back-when. She unknowingly gave one back to me. And now I’d been able to give her another—God’s Silver Box, the most important of all but also the means by which she was able to see me as a friend long ago and accept His Word now.

          Wonderful!

 

How I praise Thee, precious Savior, that Thy love laid hold of me;

Thou hast saved and cleansed and filled me that I might Thy channel be.

 

(Refrain) Channels only, blessed Master, but with all Thy wondrous pow’r

Flowing through us, Thus canst use us every day and every hour.

 

Just a channel full of blissing, to the thirsty hearts around’

To tell out Thy full salvation, all Thy loving message sound. (Refrain)

 

Emptied that Thou shouldest fill me, a clean vessel in Thy hand;

With no pow’r but as Thou givest graciously with each command. (Refrain)

 

Witnessing Thy pow’r to save me, setting free from self and sin’

Thou who boughtest to possess me, in Thy fullness, Lord, come in. (Refrain)

 

Jesus, fill now with Thy Spirit hearts that full surrender know;

That the streams of living water from our inner self may flow. (Refrain)

 

(from the hymn, Channels Only, by Mary E. Maxwell, 1900, public domain)

 

 

#encouragingwords #channelsonly #friendship #silverboxes #bullying #beingJesuswithskinon #HolyBible

 

 

Photo credit: wtsbooks.com online image

Silver Boxes ~ Gifts of Encouragement (Part 1)

          Oh, how essential encouragement is in these troubled times! Maybe more than ever before. Hearts downcast, economy tanking, and the enemy—the devil—knowing when to strike when we’re at our weakest.

          In my growing up years I struggled with a lot of criticism. By the time I was in what was then called junior high (now middle school), I believed I wasn’t much of anything. I’d even adopted the moniker “retard,” which one classmate heckled me with every time I encountered her.

          Along the way, though, God placed people in my life who lifted me up. They were few, but they—to this day—mean the world to me, most of them now gone from this earth. This handful of folks gave me silver boxes.

          No, there’s not a literal pile of silver boxes in my possession, but their encouragement was nothing less.

         When Brian and I were recently married, he realized I hadn’t been encouraged greatly along the way. We then heard a radio broadcast titled “Silver Boxes” with Florence Littauer. Listening to this reduced me to a puddle of tears. It meant so much that we later bought the audiobook on cassette. And still later, the book—in real live paper form.

          My husband then wrote me a note: May I give you silver boxes for all the ones you’ve missed. That note, which I treasure to this day, was in and of itself a silver box.

          The gift of a silver box—life-lifting words given to another.

          Having thus been blessed now with silver boxes over the years, I find it my mission to gift encouraging words to others.

          Have you received silver boxes in your life? Are you able to share encouraging words to lift others? Or are you one who hungers to hear you’re valued and loved?

          Here’s something else I’ve thought about in more recent years? Do I give silver boxes unknowingly? Or do I secretly wish to withhold them from those who’ve crushed me, feeling they must “earn” them? Hmm.

          More about that in Part 2.

Living for Jesus, a life that is true, striving to please Him in all that I do;

Yielding allegiance, glad-hearted and free, this is the pathway of blessing for me.

 

(Refrain) O Jesus, Lord and Savior, I give myself to Thee,

For Thou in Thy atonement, didst give Thyself for me;

I own no other Master, my heart shall be Thy throne;

My live I give henceforth to live, O Christ, for Thee alone.

 

Living for Jesus Who died in my place, bearing on Calv’ry my sin and disgrace;

Such love constrains me to answer His call, follow His leading and give Him my all. (Refrain)

 

Living for Jesus, wherever I am, doing each duty in His holy Name;

Willing to suffer affliction and loss, deeming each trial a part of my cross. (Refrain)

 

Living for Jesus through earth’s little while, my dearest treasure, the light of His smile;

Seeking the lost ones He died to redeem, bringing the weary to find rest in Him. (Refrain)

 

(from the hymn Living for Jesus by Thomas O. Chisholm, 1917, public domain)

 

Lord God,

          If I live for You, I will give encouraging words to everyone I meet.

Please help me be a giver of silver boxes!

    In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

 

 

#silverboxes #encouragement #livingforJesus #notforreward #soldoutforGod

Photo credit: freepik & online image

A Christmas Concert for Those Who Hurt

          Blessed Christmas, dear reader (and listener)! This blog post is unusual in that it’s loaded with music, chosen just for you.

          Oh, you may say, “I don’t want to hear music now—especially Christmas music. I’m raw. Broken. At the end of myself. The hurt in me is so deep, nothing can give me joy. Not even the birth of Jesus.”

          We might not have experienced the same hurt you hold. But I can tell you there was a time we were so deeply sunk in despair that my husband—a singer his whole life—stopped singing for years.

          What carried us through the most difficult years of our lives? Prayers of caring believers for sure, but in a big way music was our balm. Healer. And, although we didn’t want to go through Christmas when our emotions were so raw, in time we came to realize Christmas didn’t hurt us. It brought Hope—the Promised One Who heals us from our hurts.

          The coming of the promised Messiah—Savior of the world—foretold long before the Babe was born! Here’s a portion of Old Testament Scripture sharing this promised Hope to the broken:

“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me, because the Lord has anointed Me

to preach good tidings to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted,

to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound…

To comfort all who mourn, to console those who mourn in Zion,

to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning,

the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they may be called

trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.”

Isaiah 61:1,2a, 3

          This year a number of our friends have experienced deeper pain than I can even fathom. So much sorrow! I thought, Sarah, what can you share this Christmas that will minister to them?

          Music! More specifically songs from ones who hurt, who knew incredibly deep pain, who’ve “been there.”

          My gift to you, dear hurting souls? A Christmas concert, so to speak.

          Let’s begin our “program” with a carol of yearning, waiting, expecting the birth of the promised Messiah—Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus—original words by Charles Wesley, no stranger to tragedy. Charles and his wife suffered deep loss. Only three of their eight children lived beyond infancy. Can you imagine their grief?

          When I listened to this selection, I was struck to the core by these words:

“Come to earth to taste our sadness, He Whose glories knew no end.

By His Life He brings us gladness, our Redeemer, Shepherd, Friend.”

 

          Beautifully presented to you by Keith & Kristyn Getty—please listen and let the words of promise help lift you.

Keith & Kristyn Getty sing:

Come Thou Long Expected Jesus (Performance Video) - Keith & Kristyn Getty - YouTube

 

          Another couple who’d empathize with families like the Wesleys lived in my lifetime—Roy Rogers and Dale Evans Rogers—well known in the last century of radio and television.

          Roy and Dale both experienced broken marriages. Then Roy lost his second wife due to complications from childbirth. Later with wife Dale they would bury three of their nine children. They both came to know Jesus as their Savior and Lord, and they gave the credit to Him for bringing them through their grief and sorrow.

          I’ve chosen one of the songs from the Roger’s Christmas album—this one because so many people asked this year if I was ready for Christmas.

          My reply? “I have Jesus in my heart and life, so it’s Christmas all year. Yep, I’m all set!”

          Some smiled and moved on, others gave it some thought, and a few added, “I have Him in my heart too!”

          Dale expresses this in our next concert number.

Dale Evans Rogers sings:

Christmas Is Always

 

          Our next segment holds four carols along with thoughts from Ken & Joni Tada and a friend. (You may wish to listen to all of it or go to the time stamps where Joni sings.)

 

          Now, Joni also shares from a life that’s been broken—quite literally. As a teen she dove into shallow water and broke her neck, leaving her paralyzed from the neck down. She battled with anger, bitterness, and depression a long while before she accepted her “new normal” and her sitting-downness. Yes, the rest of her life in a wheelchair. Joni wasn’t healed in her body, but her mind and spirit were. She uses her life gloriously for the God she adores!

          I met Joni nearly fifty years ago. I remember telling my mom then, “I think she’s the most charismatic person I’ve ever met.” The real deal! Her exuberance for life bubbles over.

          Joni also suffers with chronic traumatic injury pain and has battled cancer twice, yet she still holds to her faith in her Savior.

          In the broadcast Joni says, “Here we are, preparing for another celebration of the birth of Jesus into our dark world. It’s what Advent’s all about. Preparing our tired hearts to receive in a fresh new way our Savior and our King.”

Joni Eareckson Tada sings and shares:

The Spirit of Christmas with Joni Eareckson Tada

(Carols are at time stamps 0:18, 3:29, 12:44, 18:29, & 24:09.)

 

          A bereaved mother who buried her three-and-a-half-year-old daughter this summer introduced me to this next song. It speaks deeply to many roots of brokenness. Here are portions of its writers’ testimonies:

          Lisa: “I was struggling…a long year and a half. Finances were stressful, I miscarried twins…I was battling a deep relational bitterness...

           ‘O come all you faithful, joyful and triumphant.’ I remember hearing those words and thinking, I have been so unfaithful. My joy has dwindled, and I am a triumphant failure. Is that really who is invited to come to Jesus? The faithful? The joyful? The triumphant? If so, then I am hopeless.

          Thankfully, later that afternoon the Holy Spirit reminded me of Jesus’s invitation in Matthew 11:28—Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest…Rest found in his life, his death, and his resurrection, not my own.

          That evening I had a strong conviction to write a song for myself and for the weary, the broken, and the ashamed. (from “Worship Matters” – The Story Behind O Come, All You Unfaithful)

          Bob: “…fear, hopelessness, depression, detachment anxiety, and emptiness became my daily companions…Apart from Jesus, I was completely hopeless and had every reason to fear. But Jesus died on the cross to save hopeless and fearful people. And I was one of them.

          That thought process…pointed me again and again to the Savior I needed more than I had ever realized. He gave me a deeper trust in the care of my heavenly Father, a more passionate love fore Jesus and the gospel, and a greater awareness of his Spirit’s presence.” (from “Desiring God” – May 16, 2019)

Bob Kauflin & Lisa Clow with O Come, All You Unfaithful:

O Come, All You Unfaithful • Official Video - YouTube

          Poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow found himself in deep despair during the Civil War. But this wasn’t his first meeting with sorrow. Years before, his beloved wife’s dress accidentally caught fire. Although Henry tried to extinguish the flames, being badly burned himself, he couldn’t save his wife.

          Their oldest son fought in the War Between the States. When Henry received word his firstborn took a bullet near the spine with fear he’d be paralyzed, he again mourned.

          It was then he heard the bells ringing out and penned the transition his heart and spirit went through when the meaning of Christmas reached him.

          Here’s a beautiful rendition of Mr. Longfellow’s poem:

The Collingsworth family sing the words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:

I Heard The Bells on Christmas Day | The Collingsworth Family | Official Performance Video

 

          Thank you for “coming” to this Christmas Concert. My hope and prayer? That you grasp hold of Hope—Jesus, sense the peace He freely offers you while you rest in His Arms, and come to firmly understand He can heal your brokenness if you but allow.

 

“…lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” –Jesus

(Matthew 28:20)

 

This concert is dedicated in memory of

Everly Grace, Samantha Grace, & Hannah Marie.

 

 

#Christmas #suffering #hurting #tragedy #death #depression #nativity #birthofJesus #music

#JoniEarecksonTada #BobKauflin #LisaClow #HenryWadsworthLongfellow #CivilWar

#KeithKristynGetty #RoyRogers #DaleEvansRogers #carols

 

Credits: stockadobe.com & YouTube 

An Odd Christmas

           Travel back with me to the late 1990s. We’re going to revisit what I’d call an odd Christmas. At least it seemed that to me.

          Our dear friends, Glenn and Karen had recently moved his dad to live near them. Ed was a most pleasant gentleman. A Korean War veteran, avid model plane maker, and Christmas enthusiast extraordinaire! He also had a heart of gold and would’ve given the shirt off his back to anyone in need.

          Ed had a child-like faith. He knew of God from his Catholic upbringing, but we didn’t know how much he understood about a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

          This particular year, Glenn and Karen invited us to come celebrate Jesus’ Birthday with them—dinner, gifts, the works! We were thrilled with this invite and set out to purchase our gifts for them.

          “What should we get Ed?” I asked my hubby.

          “Does he have a Bible?”

          “I don’t know. Maybe I can check with Glenn and Karen about that.” But I didn’t because, for some reason, although a Bible would’ve been our first choice, I didn’t have a peace about it.

          No peace about giving someone a Bible? What! That seemed crazy. Here we were—missionaries to the area, there to present the Gospel in any way possible. And inside myself says “hold off on the Bible?”

          I pondered this and thought maybe it was because such a precious Book should be given to Ed by his family. That’s it! Must be! We’re just not supposed to be the ones to get him a Bible.

          So next, being I’m the chief gift-buyer in the family, I figured we’d buy Ed some Christmas CDs. Of course! That must be what God would want us to do.

          But the same sense came over me as I explored a special catalog we bought our music from. It offered discounted prices not only on Christian music options but classical and more down-to-earth secular selections too.

          What in the world! Ed absolutely loves Christmas. Why wouldn’t we get him the next best thing—good Christmas carols?

          I didn’t realize it at the time, but we were being led in a different direction—one I entirely didn’t understand, and one—I admit—I didn’t even consult with my husband lest he wonder what had come over me.

          Inside myself, a voice kept saying, “Glenn Miller and his orchestra.” You’ve got to be kidding!

          But the whisper repeated the message.

          So, I ordered Glenn Miller and His Orchestra CDs. Not a Bible. No Christmas carols.

          I was embarrassed.

          The day came when Brian asked, “So did you get Ed some nice Christmas music?”

          “Um, no.”

          “So what did you order?”

          I stood there sheepishly. “Uh, something else. Glenn Miller and His Orchestra?”

          “Why did you choose that?”

          I knew why. That whisper. The one repeating the message, but I couldn’t confess that. “I, um, I just did.”

          “Ooo-kaaay.” Brian’s bewildered expression faded.

          No more was said about our gift. Our secular gift with no ties to Jesus.

          The evening arrived when we traveled across town to Glenn and Karen’s with our share of the meal and wrapped gifts for the couple, their kids…

          …and Ed.

          I carried our casserole dish into the kitchen and placed it near the other food.

          Karen gave me a hug then asked, “What did you get Ed for Christmas?”

          She had to ask me that??? “CDs. Glenn Miller and His Orchestra.”

          Karen clapped for joy! “How did you know?”

          “Know what?” I asked.

          “That Glenn Miller’s his favorite! That’s the reason he named his son Glenn!”

          I could hardly believe my ears. “Seriously???”

          “Yep. He’s really gonna love his gift!”

          Now, jump forward to present time. I still wonder about that message—the whisper. Still small voice. I mean, it seemed so odd.

          Did we just need to get acquainted with Ed on a friend level first? Would a Bible or Christian Christmas music have been too much too soon?

          Reader, what do you think?

          I think sometimes we believers, in our efforts to spread the Good News, proverbially hit people over the head with the Gospel rather than forming a friendship with them first. Yes, there are times we need to share Christ immediately because we won’t see a person again—maybe ever—and we mustn’t miss an opportunity to plant a Gospel seed.

          But are there truly times when we need to become friends first? Build a trust? A bridge? And that Christmas decades ago—were we obeying a command that, in turn, opened other times when we’d talk with Ed about Jesus?

          And may I not forget Ed was in very good hands with his son and daughter-in-law who loved the Lord with all their hearts, held a deep understanding of The Word, and lived out Jesus in their home. Ed was, in that sense, with loved ones who would minister to him. Undeniably.

          In this particular instance, I believe we did the right thing, strange as it seemed. It only happened that way once. Never since. And we did become friends with Ed and shared other visits over the remainder of his years on earth. He even invited our kids, who didn’t have a grandfather, to call him Grandpa.

          Reader, has this ever happened to you? Oh, I don’t mean that the Holy Spirit necessarily whispered, “Glenn Miller.” But did He prompt you in another direction for a time while you formed a friendship?

          As you prepare for the birthday of the Christ Child—our Lord and Savior—don’t be overly shocked if God directs you to a gift choice you question. Maybe by waiting to give the other gifts—a Bible, Christian music, biblical reads, etc.—He’s preparing the receiver to listen to someone whom he calls “friend.”

          Glenn (no, not Miller), Ed’s son, said his favorite Christmas song is O Holy Night, so I’ll share that with you now. And guess who’s playing it! Glenn (yes, Miller)!

Glenn Miller Orchestra - In the Christmas Mood (1991) [Full Album]

Click on the link. O Holy Night is on Track 2 which starts at timestamp 3:50.

 

          And here are the lyrics to verses one and three:

 

“O holy night! The stars are brightly shining;

It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope- the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!
Fall on your knees! O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

 

Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother,
And in His name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we;
Let all within us praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! O praise His name forever!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!”

 

P.S.—Glenn (Ed’s son) carries on his father’s love of Christmas and decorates beautifully in- and outside their home. The Christmas village at the beginning of this post was part of Ed’s collection. Neighbors and family came to see his display each year.

Yes, Ed was “Mr. Christmas” to so many.

 

#Christmas #JesusBirthday #GlennMiller #Christmasmusic #friendshipevangelism

Photo credit:

Glenn & Karen

album cover from online

When Sharon Came Out of Her Shell~An Adoption Story

          A very special friend accepted my invitation to guest blog during Adoption Awareness Month. Sharon Fieker Cummins, co-founder of Adoption Triad of the Ozarks in 2003 (a peer support group for lives affected by adoption decisions) and co-facilitator of the Birth Parent Peer Support Group for Adoption Knowledge Affiliates, has connected with many on their adoption journey.

          Why is Sharon so involved with adoption? She can tell you best…

          “I recently attended a Concerned United Birthparents Retreat. We were asked to tell our stories, starting with: “If only I had said…”

          Here’s what I shared: “If only I had said: Mom, would you and Dad let me move back home with my baby until I can get a job and settled again?”

          My Adoption Awareness began in 1969 when I learned I was pregnant. My boyfriend's reaction? "I don't care what you do; it's your problem." He left, and I haven't seen him since.

          I felt adoption was the only option so my baby could have both a loving mother and father. I went to Kansas City, Kansas, to live with my oldest brother and his family until my baby was born.

          I hemorrhaged, almost died, and received blood transfusions after my daughter's birth. I didn't see her. Signs on the doors prevented her from being brought to my room, and I wasn't allowed to leave mine.

          A social worker told me to go on with my life like this didn't happen. I tried to do just that, smiling often so no one would notice how I really felt on the inside.

          I was raised in a Christian home but strayed from God because I felt so unworthy. I returned to Springfield, Missouri, after my daughter's birth and worked as a legal secretary.

          Five years after her birth, I began employment at the local police department in a non-sworn capacity. Four months later, a lady named Jeanette started working there.

          A former co-worker told me, "You're going to have a new employee. She's a birth mom. She gave up her baby for adoption. Can you believe that?"

          I changed the subject and didn't discuss it further—not even with Jeanette, the first birth mom I ever met. We worked side by side 21 years before I told her my story.

          In 1993, I reunited with Jesus Christ.

          On February 2, 1995, I received a phone call that quickly got my attention:

          "In 1969 you gave up a baby girl for adoption; she wants to see you now."

          I started crying.

          She told me, "Your daughter's name is Lori, and she was raised in Kansas City. Can she call you later tonight?"

          "Yes!"

          Lori called, and we were reunited nine days later.

          The past 29 years, I attended Lori's wedding and later became Grandma Sharon twice. Nineteen years ago, I married for the first time. Lori and her family were there for Roger and me, along with his 2 sons. I also became Grandma Sharon to Roger’s grandchild. I was happier than I ever thought possible!

          Because of how my life changed, I wanted to help others. I published a book, co-founded a local peer support group in Springfield, and vowed to help adopted adults in Missouri be able to request their original birth certificates—like Lori did in Kansas.

          Jeanette and I retired from the police department the same day after 28 years. Lori and her family came to our retirement party. I asked Jeanette to join me on several trips to Jefferson City to talk with legislators. It took many Missouri volunteers 16 long years, but we got the laws changed!

          While in Jefferson City, Jeanette met a lady named Heather who later found her son—a sheriff in another Missouri county. They met for the first time at an informational meeting my local group held near his city to bring awareness to the change in Missouri’s adoption laws. She attended her grandson's wedding last month.

          I spent 20+ years helping adopted adults and birth parents find each other.

          I’ve been called “The Turtle Lady” because of my turtle collection, started almost 50 years ago. I use the analogy of a turtle going into its shell when danger approaches and staying until it’s over to demonstrate keeping my secret for 25 years. Roger and I have matching turtle wedding bands!

          The past 29 years have been amazing. Why would I want to change any of it?

          Don't hear me wrong. I am thrilled Lori had such a beautiful life: Everything I always wanted for her. I just didn't realize how difficult surrendering my baby would be.

          Still yet, sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if only I had said, "Mom, would you and Dad let me move back home with my baby until I can get a job and settled again?" We cannot go back and change anything in our past, but we can change our future.

          My favorite Bible verse is Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you; plans to give you hope and a future.” And my favorite song is…

…Because He Lives!

Because He Lives - Grace Larson

 

Sharon’s website is https://ichoosethisday.org.

Her book, I Choose This Day: Mournings and Miracles of Adoption

by Sharon Fieker is available at Amazon & AbeBooks as a pre-owned book.

She’s also a public speaker, sharing her story.

 

#adoption #birthmother #adoptionlaw #adoptees #reunion

#Missouriadoptionlaw #birthcertificateaccess #Novemberadoptionawareness

Photo credit:

freepik.com, online book cover photo, & S. Cummins