Posts Categorized: Gentleness

Look What I Found on My Front Porch!

| Gentleness, Patience, Self-Control

I’ve gotten in to the unfortunate habit, lately, of waiting until Thursday afternoon, or evening, to write up a new post. I’ll have had an idea and been thinking about it for a few days, but I haven’t put fingertips to keyboard until late. Then, I end up not getting to bed until 1:00 a.m. or later, because I write it, and I edit it, and I need photos and search for them, and then have to scan them and get them put in where I want them, and then edit again because I always miss something, and then send it off to Kevin to look at, but by then he’s gone to bed and won’t read it until morning, and I MUST STOP DOING THAT!!! It is not a good professional practice.

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One Way You Can Be Encouraging to Somebody

| Faithfulness, Gentleness, Joy, Love, Patience

Maybe I’m a little late to noticing how pervasive this is, but at some point, we stopped reading information in paragraph form and went with lists. I understand it. We’re busy, there’s so much information out there, how can I get the most of it in the shortest amount of time? Let’s cut to the chase, tell me just what I need to know, don’t beat around the bush. 

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Oh, No, Honey. Not THOSE Toys

| Gentleness, Joy, Kindness, Patience, Self-Control

We didn’t have Sunday School for kids last Sunday morning because the bikers were coming. Every year at church, we collect new toys for the Mission Waco Toy Store. Several churches participate, and on Thanksgiving weekend, local bikers (some are members of “Riders of the Son”) ride from church to church and pick up the toys. (They bring a trailer, too, for the toys, which is efficient, but keeps drivers around Waco from being able to see bikers guys and gals roaring around with Barbie dolls and Lego sets tucked under their arms.)

This year, an adult Sunday School class sponsored a time for parents and kids during the Sunday School hour to talk about Advent and giving and about the bikers’ ministry, and then the bikers came. They thundered into the parking lot and the kids got to meet the bikers and get close to those motorcycles (which are turned off at the time), and even sit on a bike. Then the bikers packed up all the toys we had donated, and blasted off to the next church.

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Here. Feel My Forehead. Doesn’t It Feel Hot to You?

| Gentleness

 

When I was growing up, the only thing that would keep us home from school was fever or throwing up. Well, that and chicken pox, but chicken pox wasn’t a recurring malady. Usually, one bout of chicken pox and you were done. Beyond that, no matter how we fussed, complained, and explained how bad we felt, Mother would squeeze some nose drops in our noses and off we’d go to school, whatever the weather. And we had to walk, yes, WALK. From first through third grade, I had to walk twice as far to school as my sister. Actually I think it was four times as far. JoAnne did all her elementary school days in our new house, the house where I live now. It was a good half-block walk to school. Our other house, where I started school, was at least two whole blocks away from that school, and even if it was raining, cold, windy, or broiling hot, I had to walk . No matter how I felt. And sometimes, I felt crummy.

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I’m the Bearer of, Uh, Some News

| Gentleness

I was on a trip, driving for three days, and one of my overnight stops was with some friends. As I turned into their driveway, the whole family erupted out of the house, jostling each other in attempts to be the first to get to me to share that there had been a flood, and part of the highway beyond them was washed out. Maybe I was overly skeptical of their motives, but it seemed to me that the expressions on their faces weren’t those of concern but more of glee. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but YEHAWW do I have some baaaad news for you!”

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Lessons from the Grocery Store

| Gentleness, Patience

Many shoppers at the grocery store irritate me to pieces. I suspect that I irritate folks, too, so I try to think gracious thoughts about other people, even the ones who leave their cart on a busy aisle (because they are having to wait to get down the row) and walk an aisle or two away to get something else, therefore creating additional snarling, because the rest of us now have half an aisle to navigate through and . . . . But I digress.

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