Baby Bendu

We've been writing and blogging about getaways, and I've been encouraged by some of the practical ways Ungrind writers have found to take breaks in the midst of busy, frantic lives.

This week, I learned a lot about how important it is to put my schedule on hold and take a break with people. A sweet little girl in my neighborhood in Monrovia, Liberia, taught this to me. Her name is Bendu.

Read about what she taught me here. And then come back over to Fresh Brew, and let me know who the "Bendus" are in your life. If you don't have a "Bendu," go find one today.

Sometimes, time is all we can give. But it is precious.

My Hiding Place

Hello Ungrind readers and bloggers! I've been wanting to post for a while now. I've just returned from Liberia, West Africa, where my Internet connection was slow and undependable. But I'm so glad to be back in the States for a little while, and I hope to blog here more often.

Living in the USA after six months in Liberia is taking some adjustment. I'm savoring luxuries—like being able to eat lots of fresh vegetables and keeping my feet clean (no hot, dirty Monrovia streets!) and to just be healthy (I contracted malaria right before I left and got a small dose of the suffering that most Liberians endure many times a year).

But while I've embraced the comforts of home, I've been reluctant to re-enter the social life I left behind. A week after returning, I feel more like hiding out for a little while than telling everyone about my trip.

I know I'll snap back into my social self, but today I've been thinking about all the references in the Bible to resting in the Lord and even "hiding out" with Him. Last year, when I was going through an especially difficult time, I took off for a "hiding place" in Harper's Ferry just to be quiet and to pray and to rest. It was a sweet escape.

I know God doesn't want me to hide away from people forever, but I think He is eager to have us draw near to Him and to truly rest in His protection and peace and comfort. He is our shield, our refuge, our hiding place. I know that I will re-emerge with more joy and peace and confidence. Have you ever had a "hide-out" with the Lord? What did you learn?

When James Picked Up the Tab

My husband James and I are both frugal people. We load up on free bread at restaurants and then take part of our entree home. We fill up on free samples at Costco. We never order drinks at restaurants—it's only water for us! You get the picture.

A few years ago, we were on vacation and eating the most delicious banana macadamia nut pancakes at the Gazebo restaurant in Maui. Topped with coconut syrup and whipped cream, the flight over was worth it just for the pancakes. But I digress. While waiting, we met an older Christian man and learned he had spent much of his life mentoring younger men. Case in point, he was having breakfast with a young man in his 30s.

We parted ways and while we were eating, James felt impressed by the Lord to pay for their bill. So he arranged it with the waitress. Imagine their surprise when they found out their bill was already paid for! An unexpected act of kindness like Anne Swanson talks about in her article "Simple Gestures."

It was our prayer for that man to be encouraged for all the times he had taken people out to meals to mentor them. A funny twist is that we visited a church on the island and guess who was there? Those same people and we all had breakfast together at the Gazebo again a few days later. 

My husband James' act of kindness paved the way to form an unexpected friendship. Whenever you do something out of the ordinary for someone, it will be noticed. If not by the recepient, then by the Lord!      

The Simple Things

A simple gesture can go a long way. When I was nearing the end of my pregnancy with my second daughter, my husband and I were in the process of church hunting. During one of the "meet and greets," at what would become our home church, the woman next to me extended a simple gesture of kindness that to this day touches my heart.

Seeing my large belly and hearing that I was nearing my due date, she handed me her small, purse-sized Bible. "For the hospital," she said. Her thoughtfulness and generosity to me, a woman she'd just met, provided an added measure of comfort as I prepared for labor.

In the first of this week's two articles, "Simple Gestures," Anne Swanson looks at the power of simple gestures such as the one this woman extended toward me. She writes:

I'm seeing more and more that God wants me to show love and kindness to others—including those I don't know—€”not to make myself feel good, but to bring glory to Him. In showing love to strangers I'm obeying Christ. I'm remaining steadfast in him.

For me, this piece serves as a great reminder to be more intentional about reaching out to those I don't know.

Our second piece "Serve Like You Mean It," comes from our archives. In it, Jennifer Napier shares practical ways we can reach out to friends and family who are struggling.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this week's articles. What did you walk away from each piece thinking?

Tinkerbell and Telling Time

When my daughter Molly turned five, we celebrated with all things Tinkerbell: Tinkerbell shoes, a Tinkerbell hairbow, and even "Pin the Wand on the Fairy."

Molly's favorite gift came from her grandparents: a digital Tinkerbell watch. Every few minutes, Molly popped open the lid and proudly announced the time like a medieval town crier. "3:11!" "Now it's 3:14." "Mom, do you need to know what time it is? Because I can just look at my Tinkerbell watch. See? It's 3:18."

That watch, however, caused a family feud. When you're five like Molly, the difference between digital 2's and digital 5's can be tricky. And when you're eight like my son Nathan, knowledge of that difference gives great superiority. The scene played out like this:

Molly: "It's 8:23!"

Nathan: "It's ... what? 8:23? Wait." (He ran to the kitchen to check the clock.)

Me: "Nathan, it's all right."

Nathan (beginning to panic and hop in place): "No, WAIT! It's not 8:23!!"

Molly: "Yes, it is. My watch says 8:23. Oh, now it's 8:24."

Nathan (fully jumping up and down): "No! NO! It's not a 2! IT'S NOT A 2!"

Nathan grabbed the watch, nearly pulling Molly's arm out of socket. "She's wrong! She's wrong! MOM, she's...." (Unintelligible.)

When the screaming and arm-wrestling subsided, we "discussed" the problem: That it was, in fact, 8:53. (And then, 8:54.) That five-year-olds are just learning about 2's and 5's. That, while a half-hour time difference is important, it's not worth inflicting bodily harm on little sisters. That even though Nathan was right about the time, he hurt someone with his rightness. I closed the lecture with a line we use frequently with my son: "Being kind is better than being right."

It's painful for me to type that; I do love being right. Too often, I am right, but not kind. I hurt people with my rightness. But kindness is better. Jesus came to right the wrongs, and He did it through kindness. "For God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8).

When have you received undeserved kindness? How can you show Christ-like kindness to someone else?

Stories of Kindness

Yesterday in my post, "Kindness in Marriage," as well as in my e-newsletter, I asked if any of you had stories or additional encouragement to share that tied into this week's article, "The 30-Day Experiment." In response, I received an email from Melissa which I think is worth sharing here. Melissa wrote:

I read somewhere that 30 days can form a habit. This year my husband and I made a pack that for our private Lenten observance we would not complain for 30 days. Not to each other or to anyone else. It didn't seem like that would be too hard because I never saw myself as a complainer. Complaints really are a form of criticism. I can be critical. I agree with the need to be intentional. We both sought the Lord's help with this plan. We needed it. I found that uttering discontent about small things had snuck into my lifestyle. I had to make a conscious effort not to criticize.

My husband had a very interesting encounter while trying to be patient in a slow-moving line at the grocery store. He observed that the grocery clerk was quite snappy, had a scowling face and was not being very hospitable which is not at all the motto of this particular store. He would usually have made a comment to her. This day he went through the line and then commented, "Some days are just hard, huh?" Her response, "How did you know, this has been such a difficult day for me." She brightened up and they exchanged some nice comments. Sometimes, we just don't know what people are going through. 

Later we were both visiting a museum on a crowded weekend. We went to the deli to get a snack. Another slow moving line. By this time we were two weeks into our commitment and were getting better at controlling our tongue with each other. So, we just smiled and said to each other, "Another oppportunity to practice patience." However, the lady in back of us began complaining incessantly and loudly. She even got worse as the time lengthened. (It was really quite an unusual wait.)

The more she complained, the more others chimed in. We were amazed to see how unflattering it was to them and how negative the atmosphere became in that little line. When the deli clerk finally asked her what she would like to order, she barked, "Will I have to wait a week to get it?" He didn't really understand the comment and looked confused. The others behind her laughed but it was not very nice. We felt very sorry for him and just smiled. When we got outside to the patio the lady continued to complain about everything else.

Now, lest you think we were being critical of this lady, let me explain. We realized how easily we could have and have done the same thing. We also realized that not only was it unattractive but it was contagious. We were no worse off for being patient and not complaining, in fact, we were better off.   

There were times when we had legitimate complaints and had to learn how to rephrase it to positive suggestions or questions. It was a very good thing to do. My husband and I both agreed that this is something we should be doing frequently just to refresh our "gentle" spirit of the Lord that he finds so pleasing.

I love Melissa's point about having to learn how to rephrase legitimate complaints and turn them into positive comments or suggestions. I'm going to give this a try today!

What about you? Like Melissa, do you have a story to share that can encourage the rest of us in kindness? If so, leave it here in a comment.

Kindness in Marriage

While this week's article "The 30-Day Test" focuses on marriage, I believe it can serve to encourage both the married and unmarried. Why? Because while writer Misti Gill's "experiment" involved learning to be less critical and more kind to her husband, most of us have one or more individuals in our lives we tend to be too harsh on. At least, I know I do. And although it may be a challenge for many of us, as it was for Misti, we can all learn, as she writes, "... that all the effort it takes to be gracious is worth it."

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this week's article. Did Misti's struggle resonate with any of you? Any stories or additional encouragement to share?

If Toddlers Can Do It, So Can We

My 3-year-old son can be a bit obsessive about his cars. Like today, he just got a "new" race car. In reality, it's quite "old" because it used to be his fathers. His little sister Noelle wanted to give it a try. The moment she touched it, he started having a fit. You know, crocodile tears, legs bouncing up and down, screaming, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! You can't have that!!!!!!!!!!!" He jerked it away from his sister, in a very unkind manner!

I told my son, "No, that's not how we ask for things," and proceeded to give the race car back to his sister. "Now ask nicely please." 

"Noelle, give me the car. Give me the car," he pleaded. It was MUCH better than his first attempt. To her credit, Noelle is great at giving things back and he got his beloved car back without incident.

If a toddler can ask for something he really wants nicely, than so can we. Have you ever made an unkind demand of someone? Have you ever whined to your husband, "We have to get that!" or "Why can't you get home on time?" 

Lord, help us to practice kindness even when our emotions are telling us to do otherwise! 

Class in Session

There have been countless times in my life when I've had to deal with what I term "a difficult person." In these instances, my tendency has been to become frustrated, often falling into the sin of venting. Not pretty, I know. Because of this, I found today's article "Lessons in Kindness" especially convicting.

In it, regular contributor Lynette Kittle, who also happens to be my mom, shares how she's learned a lot about being kind from unkind people. She writes:

Over the years I've been learning that if God allows someone unkind in my life, He has a plan. Now, instead of resistance, I ask myself, "What lesson does God want to teach me through this person's unkindness?"

What about you? Like me, did you walk away convicted, challenged, encouraged? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Accidental Dinner

It's no secret that I hate to cook. I frequently set off the smoke alarm when I try. Some people enjoy spending all day in the kitchen, but I am not one of those people. I enjoy take-out.

It was a true blessing, then, when my friend Suzzy called a few years ago. Suzzy is a grandmother in our church and a retired caterer. She is one of "those" people who love to cook. In fact, her skills in the kitchen and home would make Martha Stewart cry.

At that time, my kids were all three under the age of 4. Potty-training, bottles, and everything else that comes with toddlerhood filled my days. On the morning of Suzzy's call, I specifically remember telling my son that we could have a "Pajama Day"—my secret code for "Laundry Day"—because the kids had no clean clothes to wear.

"Hi, Amy," Suzzy said warmly. "I accidentally made too much roast, and I just wondered if I could bring some to your family for dinner tonight."

I looked at the toys scattered across my living room and at my pajama-clad babies. "Uh, sure, if you really want to," I stammered, wishing I could reach through the phone and hug her neck.

That evening, Suzzy brought over a roast, potatoes, carrots, fruit salad, rolls, and cobbler that she'd "accidentally" prepared. What a thoughtful friend! What incredible kindness.

I often remember Suzzy's kind gift, and how she showed Jesus' love to an overwhelmed mom that day.  She inspires me to use my talents (no, not preparing dinner!) for those in need. What can you do to show kindness to others?