Three D's of Conversationalists!

Crystal sent me a copy of a classification essay she turned in for her English Comp class last week. Her teacher loved her use of rhyme in her essay, and  I am pasting a copy of it into this post for you to enjoy as well.

She titled it "The Three D's of Conversationalists."

"Words--we have a lot of them. Out of the twenty-six letters in the English alphabet, people have made hundreds of thousands of words. The words people use say a lot about them, and their words affect how others feel about having a conversation with them. Conversationalists fall into three categories: disturbing conversationalists, difficult conversationalists, and delightful conversationalists.

 

The disturbing conversationalists make people want to run away and hide when they see them coming. Mr. Crude swears almost every other word. Mrs. Rude says anything that comes to her mind, not caring how it might make someone feel. Mr. Feud argues with practically anything anyone else says and easily picks a fight with anyone he doesn't agree with (which happens to be almost everybody).

 

 Mrs. Intrude minds everyone's business except her own, and is a notorious gossiper. No one can stand her close relative Mrs. Prude, always saying things that try to make her look good and make everyone else look bad. (She doesn't realize that this actually makes her look worse.)

 

 People have to tiptoe on eggshells around Miss Unglued. She gets upset at the slightest offense and will often walk away from a conversation in tears. She won't speak to the person who offended her for months. Definitely not the best person to have a conversation with! Whenever someone meets one of these disturbing conversationalists, they try to get away as soon as possible.

The difficult conversationalists might not be as bad to talk to as the ones above, but still make conversation hard. Young Mr. Dude says “like” like every other word, and the words “cool” and “awesome” creep in quite a bit too. Mrs. Pseud always tries to talk like someone else, mimicking hand gestures and voice tones of other people. People never know what Mrs. Mood might do when they talk to her. She will do anything from getting angry to bursting into tears to hugging people and gushing over every word they say. Mr. Solitude—could he even be called a conversationalist? Very reserved, he hardly ever says anything. People have an almost impossible time trying to carry on a conversation with him. No one jumps up and down at the prospect of having a conversation with any of these characters.

 

Thankfully, the delightful conversationalists make people love to be around them. Mr. Shrewd doesn't swallow everything everybody says, but thinks carefully about it. He doesn't just spout off everything that comes to his mind. When he has something to say, it is worth taking note of. Another Mr. Shrewd knows how to use humor to defuse tension and to make people feel at home. He loves and accepts everyone. He also knows when not to use humor, which is just as important. He has a big heart and can tell when someone is going through a hard time. People know he is safe to talk to because he won't share their secrets.

Miss Include—what a great person to have around! As her name suggests, she doesn't turn anybody away. She includes everyone in her circle. She cares about everyone she meets and makes a point of being friendly to the shy ones and the new people around.

  Mr. Gratitude exudes joy. Anyone who talks to him will leave feeling uplifted and refreshed. He thanks God for everything, including things that might seem bad.

 

And he thanks anyone who does anything for him, whether it is helping him find his glasses (which he always seems to be losing!) or cooking a meal.

 

 Miss Beatitude blesses people with her words of kindness and cheer. She never criticizes or scolds, but does her best to encourage others. Everyone wants to talk to one of these conversationalists!

 

Conversationalists fall into three categories: disturbing conversationalists, difficult conversationalists, and delightful conversationalists. The disturbing conversationalists make people want to run away and hide and the difficult conversationalists make conversation hard. But the delightful conversationalists make everyone want to be around them. Which category do you fit in? What category do you want to be in? The choice is yours. What kind of conversationalist will you be today?

Pure GIft!

I wrote a post a couple days ago where I have to admit that I was struggling to feel that God cared about me personally.

I knew He did, of course. 

I believed He did.

But there are those days you sort of trudge on without feeling,

even when your little daughter, who seems to know you need a lift,

makes sweet little cards for her mommy and daddy.

I don't remember exactly how I prayed, I just remember that I prayed specifically for God to be real to me, because I was feeling really low.

We couldn't help smiling at Hannah's sweet little notes to each of us, like this one to her daddy who was getting ready to fly to Florida on another Mission Helps trip. 

"Dear Dad I love you. God be with You. I love Hot ir blunse [hot air balloons].

I love Mom, to. 

I love flawrs [flowers] and butrflise.

I loove thakthegiveen [Thanksgiving].

love,

Hannah

And then, all unexpectedly, God did it. 

Jonathan's plane to Florida was overbooked and their offer to anyone who was willing to change their flight ended up being a $500 voucher toward future tickets--

plus a voucher to stay at Hotel Elegante for the night here!

Jonathan decided to go for it, and knew he had made the right decision when the airline attendant

thanked him for being willing to change, 

because, she said, some folk who were going to a funeral were in tears begging to be allowed on the flight.

It had seemed to us that we were merely taking advantage of an offer that would be a blessing down the road, but it turned out to be a blessing to some sorrowing people,

and that was a double blessing. 

And so Jonathan's wife threw some supper fixings together at home and hurried back to town

to spend an unforgettable and relaxing and incredibly happy evening with him

at this Hotel Elegante.

It was a huge place, including a convention center and ballroom.

A gorgeous ebony grand piano took center stage near the front desk,

and flames licked up the fireplace.

Everything was elegant, just like its name, clear to the way the snowy towels were folded!

We walked about admiring all the pretty things and laughing and giggling and wondering how in the world we ever ended up in such a ritzy place.
And thinking how, when we had decided to send Jonathan to Florida again to lift John Dykes' load,

 we hadn't imagined any such wonderful thing happening to us personally on the eve of just trying to help out someone else!

We never did anything particular for our anniversary this year, since we spent it working in Detroit,

and so it sort of seemed like Mission Helps trips kept coming up instead of an anniversary getaway.

And God did care about that. 

And so here we were, cooking a bit of supper for two with an electric skillet I took along,

sauteeing some of our favorite foods--mushrooms and red pepper, with fresh avocado and red pepper and a little leftover venison from lunch, filling up on popcorn I'd brought.

Coffee isn't our favorite beverage at bedtime, but we had to celebrate anyhow, so we drank a little hot decaf with some ice cream dollopped in to cool and sweeten it.

It was so nice to just relax together without a bunch of noisy kids around. 

Jonathan had to get up at 4:30 in the morning to catch a 6:00 flight, but a shuttle took him so I could stay in bed a while longer. 

Outside our glass door to the courtyard the rising sun shone brightly on Pikes Peak.

It was so beautiful!

I took a walk around the courtyard before leaving so I could get home for breakfast and starting the school day.

Thank You, God, for being real to an exhausted mother!

It was pure gift!

"When God Doesn't Fix It"

"When God Doesn't Fix It" was the name of a devotional that caught my eye recently when I visited a link someone had sent to another article. 

This one was at

http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/your-painful-story-brings-god-glory .

Because how many of us have something in our lives that God hasn't seemed to fix for us, and if you have your life all fixed up just the way you like it, maybe you should move on to another kind of post.

The author, John Piper, was talking about a minister who didn't hide a struggle he was facing with a wayward child.  Piper wrote that "telling our personal stories of struggle and pain can be dangerous. Fortunately, this minister realized he wasn’t the only one going through a trial. Parents in his church and community were facing the same issues and needed the same kind of support he did. God used him and his willingness to share his pain to form a confidential support group for parents whose children were involved in destructive lifestyles. He wasn’t shouting his story from a megaphone on a Sunday morning, and he wasn’t doing it in a way that would shame his child. He was privately sharing his suffering with those who needed to hear it most. 

"In the group, parents of alcoholics and drug abusers came together and prayed for their children in a faith-filled, understanding, and supportive environment. Think of how many families have been helped because they now have a safe place to discuss their struggles!" Piper wrote. "I’m so thankful my friend knew God could redeem his broken story, and he was willing to be a part of redeeming other people’s broken stories.

"Imagine how thankful the parents who come to this group are for his willingness to be transparent. He didn’t wait for his story to be resolved or to have a happy ending. He shared his story of struggling with a child he loves dearly but couldn’t help.

Piper continued, "His story reminds me that when God uses our stories to heal others, they don’t have to be finished. They don’t have to be wrapped up into a neat, tidy bow with all the answers before God can use them. He can redeem our stories while they’re still tattered, and we’re still in the brokenness."

 And so another mother, wife, sister and just-another-woman

keeps finding the courage to blog and share what encourages, challenges and inspires her.

 Because she knows that she isn't the only wife and mother and common, ordinary person

who sometimes ends up with a heavy heart all unexpectedly

and it won't go away, no matter how much you try to find comfort in God's Word.

There is something about knowing you are not alone

when God doesn't fix things.

When you are reading Revelations for your devotions, and you read about God on His throne and how the four and twenty elders spend their time (if there is such a thing as time in eternity)

falling down on their faces and worshipping Him.

And you think, well wouldn't it be nice to be God and have everybody bowing down to you

instead of having to be the person who seems to be supposed to meet all the demands?

 

Does such a God have a clue about us down here below, who are struggling just to find time to read a chapter of your Bible while endless duties call?

And for a moment that feels rebellious, you wonder if that God up there somewhere has any clue

about what it means to be the common ordinary person who is trying to do everything right to please Him,  and the loads get heavy.

You never had such a rebellious thought, I'm sure.

But then there are verses further on about the Lamb who died--
the Lamb Who gave His life; Who knew what it was like to suffer, to work all day long,

to minister and serve God and honestly please Him

even when the religious leaders decided He was a deceiver and a no-good

and full of the devil. 

He knew what it was like to suffer false accusations and misunderstandings and people who were out on purpose to catch him in His talk so they could kill Him.

Yes, God said that He cares for us.

That God to whom heaven and earth bow to worship

cares personally for each common, ordinary person.

Sometimes you have to talk to yourself like that and you just have to tell yourself the truth.

John Piper said it this way.

" Listen to Lloyd-Jones take hold of this verse:

Have you realized that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself? Take those thoughts that come to you the moment you wake up in the morning. You have not originated them, but they are talking to you. They bring back the problems of yesterday, etc. Somebody is talking. Who is talking to you? Your self is talking to you. Now this man’s treatment [in Psalm 42] was this: Instead of allowing this self to talk to him, he starts talking to himself. “Why art thou cast down, O my soul?” he asks. His soul had been depressing him, crushing him. So he stands up and says, “Self, listen for a moment. I will speak to you.” (Spiritual Depression, 20–21)

http://www.desiringgod.org/interviews/when-depression-descends-do-the-next-thing,

 And so when common, ordinary mothers are struggling with God, it's just like Jacob

struggled with God.  Hosea wrote, "yes, he struggled...and prevailed...

He found Him in Bethel, and there He spoke to us."

It was not the simple prayer of a small child. 

 But the struggling prayer of one finding his way out of a long journey fraught with mistakes and immaturities and sins. Jacob did not say his bedtime prayers.

He wrestled with His God--

 and prevailed.

He struggled until the day broke and the Angel of God had to touch his hipbone and weaken him, because amazingly, a man strove with God and prevailed. 

Man was not strong, but God in those moments, became weak for Jacob's sake. 

The Mighty God chose to become weak enough for a mere man to prevail.

 Yet in truth, God was always mightier. 

All it took was a touch, and Jacob's hip socket went out of joint.

Yet even despite that, the Scripture says Jacob prevailed with God for His blessing.

And so mere men and mere women can still prevail.

In those times of weakness and testing, we can wrestle with God

and be honest with Him about our pain and our confusions and our doubts and our fears. 

When our batteries are totally worn out,

 we can come to Him for charging.

And then is it possible for the Almighty to use a mere mortal in some small way,

as a carpenter and remodeler chooses the tools to take with him 

on another Mission Helps trip?

 When our prayers, although wrestled and wrung from a heavy heart, are reduced to 

the simple prayer of a child, 

God the Almighty still cares for us.

When our plate is piled so high we feel we can

never take a bite out of the pile,

God is there to bring the mountains low,

and to level out the valleys,

to straighten out the crooked places and make the rough places smooth.

Somehow in the midst of busy days where you end up prostrated with weakness,

God comes through 

and speaks peace to your soul.

And another Jacob wrestles with God--and prevails.

International Days of Prayer for the Persecuted Church--We Are People of the Cross

Sunday was the first of two Sundays designated internationally

as Days of Prayer for the Persecuted Church.

Our Sunday School combined all classes for a time of prayer for our persecuted brothers and sisters.

Those coordinating the days of prayer, such as Voice of the Martys, had suggested online that Christians wear a bit of orange on that day, as a memorial to the 21 Coptic Christians who were dressed in orange jumpsuits on that fatal but glorious day last February

when they were martyred in Libya by Muslim extremists.

Not one of the twenty-one had converted to Islam.

Not one had denied Christ.

And the one kidnapped who had not at first been a Christian, seeing the others' faith,

when asked if he would convert to Islam, replied,

"Their God is my God."

And he had given his life, there on the seashore, his blood running right with theirs,

on that videotaped scene that shocked the world.

I did not watch the video.

I do not care to purposely watch scenes of violence if I don't have to. 

But I did see two photos of those brave men--one of whom was engaged to be married.

He chose Christ over his fiance.

He chose Christ over his dreams and over his life.

And so many of us at church Sunday wore some kind of orange

in loving memory 

and supportive memorial to these precious martyrs and others like them. 

Our girls didn't have much in the way of orange clothing,

(it's not our favorite color)

so they wore orange hair bands.

I had one skirt with some orange in it, and I pinned on an orange bow,

one of those that Carrie had tied for any who would like to wear one.

Grandma and pa Lucas came with orange leaves pinned on. Others wore orange color in other ways.

It was the least we could do.

It seemed almost pathetic, us American Christians coming to church, wearing orange, showing a bit of support for our suffering brothers, the ones who are feeling the thorns and pricks of persecution.

But at the same time, I felt a sense of togetherness by doing this small act. 

It was a small way of going to some concerted effort to join a larger effort of prayer for our 

suffering brethren.

Whether we all suffer in the same way or not, we are all people of the cross, and we are in this together, just like the whole batch of calves who were waiting inside corrals and cattle chutes last week--waiting to be branded with the ranch brand.

Sam was asked to come help with guarding and herding, and the ranch owners permitted our whole family to come watch.

When we become Christians, we are marked forever as people belonging to God. 

We are not our own. We belong to Another.

Just as those calves had to go through some pain at the time of branding,

we have to experience the cross.

We have to take up our cross and carry it for the rest of our lives.

 I wasn't sure how I would handle watching the branding, but thankfully, it wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. 

The pain is only experienced for brief seconds, and then the spot is numb.

Our friend, Marlene, was helping with the branding irons and also vaccinating those big calves all at the same time while each one was put through the cattle chute and contained by the head gate.

Once the branding was done, the calves acted like nothing had happened. It was no big deal afterward--but they carried a permanent mark.

We learned that the top markings were the ranch markings,

the second number was the number of the calf birthed by the same mother,

or else it was the registration number, I can't remember for sure,

and the third number was the year it was born (I think.)

At least that was the way this ranch did it. Another rancher had a couple of his calves done, 

and he did it a different way.

 

 Sam helped herd the calves back into pasture once they were done, or helped capture one heifer that kept getting out of the head gate when it was her turn.

 

It was a unique experience, the ranchers and helpers working together, with a curious family biking or riding down to observe for the first time,

and it was all about calves being marked as belonging to a certain ranch.

 As Christians, we are marked people.

The men who beheaded those 21 Coptic Christians mocked them for being "people of the cross,"

but that mockery was turned upside down on its head. 

All around the world, Ann Voskamp wrote, other Christians brushed ashes on their foreheads in the shape of a cross,

a symbolic gesture saying they were not ashamed to be called people of the cross.

Jonathan and I had collected various prayer requests for different people or parts of the world

from sources such as the Good Samaritan newsletter, the Evangelistic Faith Mission newsletter,

and online.

The small children passed out individual requests, which the recipients would take turns reading,

and then that person would call on another person to pray for that specific request.

I really enjoy these times of prayer.

It is not easy to leave our comfort zones and listen to stories of beheadings and a teenager burned alive and churches being bombed, and such, but we get past those details and pray for the families left behind, those wounded, and the persecutors.

Christ would want us to pray for the killers and persecutors, hard as that may be.

Because that is what Christianity is all about--loving even our enemies. 

That is what being people of the cross is about--denying ourselves and taking up our cross,

whether in something as simple as wearing orange and listening to gory prayer requests
when we'd rather not hear such things,
 and then praying over them,
or actually being the martyr or the sorrowing family.

So it was a really different Sunday, and one in which our family was very busy.

For morning service, our little Hannah sang the special with me accompanying her on the autoharp, a spiritual we heard the SMS men's chorus sing on CD, "Count it all joy when you face trials and tests."

It's taken from James, and says, 

"Count it all joy, joy, joy, when you face trials and tests.

Count it all joy, joy, joy, for God knows the way that's best.

When temptation and trials come and you seem to lose your way,

Just remember the God Who loves you.

Count it joy, count it joy!"

Hannah did a great job! I wish someone would have remembered to take a picture.

Then after service, when a new family we'd invited to dinner didn't show up,

we had another couple for a picnic dinner up along Bear Creek again.

We had also, on the spur of the moment, invited another lady who has been attending our church, 

who asked if she could also invite her friend with whom she has been sharing the gospel.

We were delighted to include this precious, sweet young lady, and to take the two ladies for a walk along this interesting path we discovered last Sunday. 

Just another way of being "people of the cross," and sharing Christ through a picnic meal and fellowship.