What I've Never Forgotten

"So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith."  ... Galations 6:10

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So what did I do yesterday on yet another grey (so grey), cold day? 

I climbed our stairs, stood in front of my yard-sale-bought yearbook collection, then snatched a 1960 local one and carried it down to our dining room table where within the pages, oh! I spied an old church friend from the 90's. 

There he was, Coach 'Stan', standing next to the baseball team. He also taught Social Studies, but oddly, I could find no teacher photos anywhere. (What's up with that?)

Anyway, I paused, gazed out our windows and remembered when Stan, his wife, another couple and I met nearly every Saturday night in the 1990's for 3 years to pray. (Occasionally our pastor joined us.) We prayed for--

our church, 
our world, 
our town, 
our friends, 
our relatives.

But hardly ever for ourselves. 

We prayed silently and we also took turns praying aloud. Except for Stan. In those 3 years I recall him praying out loud only once. And it was for me.

See, I shared with our little group how I'd gotten two phone calls from a stranger, a man. (He sounded familiar, kind-of like a co-worker of Tom's who I'd seen just a week before.) Both calls went a little like this:

Debra: "Hello?"

Weird Guy: "Hello Debra. How are you tonight?"

Debra: "I'm fine, but who is this?"

Weird Guy: "Think we could talk awhile?"

Debra: "Uhm, again, who is this?"

Weird Guy: "Let's just talk awhile, ok?"


Eegads. The second time he called I said, "How about if you talk to my husband. I'll go get him." Which I did, then handed him the phone. Of course, Weird Guy had hung up.

Hmm. At our next prayer group when everyone shared their requests, I mentioned those phone calls, with a brave face (actually, they hung over me like a cloud). Someone shared a similar story and the funny way she'd handled it and we all chuckled, then began to pray as usual.

Then a half-hour later, for the first time in 3 years, Stan prayed out loud. He asked God to help me not be afraid and also that the caller would be convicted to stop calling me once and for all.

Wow. Stan had prayed out loud and it had been for me. He'd been the only one to sense I'd been a tad frightened and you know? These 20 years since, whenever I've seen Stan or heard others speak of him, I've recalled that night and Stan's prayer for me.

Oh, and Weird Guy never did call again.

Anyway. This morning, 5:00 a.m., I went to Facebook and Stan's daughter-in-law had written that Stan passed away on Monday. 

Oh dear, and just yesterday I'd stared at that old yearbook photo and had been reminded of Stan's kindness toward me during that prayer group so long ago. 

Today's lesson? May we finally stop erroneously believing that only what matters, will be remembered, are the big-time, glittery good deeds and songs sung or sermons preached on stages before crowds of people.

Everything matters. Every single word we speak and all deeds we do at the nudging of our huge God to whom no kindness is small--but only large and very, very eternal.

"And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him."   ... Colossians  3:15


"So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God."   ... Romans 14:12


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Over ice and some spitting snow, I walked to my coffee shop this  morning. Brrr.... cold out there! And what a blessing--later, one of the 'regulars' brought in two sanitation workers and bought them each a coffee and a sandwich because they were working hard out in the cold conditions.

Oh my! Does that warm your heart (and convict it) like it does mine?



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Happiest of Thanksgiving wishes to all my readers! I'm thankful for each of you who read here so faithfully year after year. 

Truly----thank-you.

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"Walk ... with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love." ... Ephesians 4:2

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