Plain Wisdom

by Cindy Woodsmall

  That’s when a twist of an old motto formed in my mind. If practice makes perfect, I didn’t want to practice worrying!

  Every time a bad image came into my thoughts, I decided that I’d imagine myself throwing it to the ground and then snatching up a worthy thought. Whenever fear started whispering, I’d mentally shout back, Shut up! Then I’d refocus my thoughts.

  At first I failed miserably at convincing myself not to worry. But having a teenager who drives gives a mother lots of practice time.

  When school functions kept Justin out after midnight, I made myself go to bed at my usual time. While lying there, I had to pull my thoughts away from the realm of fear, over and over. When I did doze off, I’d jerk awake, longing to know if my son was home, but I refused to get up and look in his room. I felt like a horrible mother. But I stayed in bed, late night after late night. When I’d wake the next morning, my mind would scream, Go look! Make sure he got home. Instead, I fixed a pot of coffee, poured myself a cup, had my Bible and prayer time, and began my workday. When Justin came to the door of my home office, I’d bid him a good morning as if I’d never doubted he was home.

  I went round after round with anxiety for several months. But I would not become its slave. It wouldn’t tell me what to do. I’d tell it.

  If practice makes perfect, refuse to practice worrying.

  From Miriam

  The bedroom curtains swayed in the cool breeze at the end of another busy day. The clock ticked loudly as I pondered the day’s events. Sleep would be long in coming.

  At that moment my husband and our six children were scattered across four states, and my weary mind was having a hard time keeping track of everyone. Daniel and two of our sons—Jacob, twenty-five, and Mark, eleven—were in Massachusetts on a job. Our oldest son, David Alan, twenty-seven, and his young family were visiting in Indiana. Two more sons—Mervin, twenty-one, and Michael, twenty—were in Wyoming, working on separate ranches. That left only Jacob’s wife and small son, our daughter, Amanda, and me at home in Pennsylvania.

  I had just spoken to each of them on the phone. Except for Michael, whom I hadn’t heard from in a week. With growing concern I tried to envision where he might be. He had talked about going to cow camp, where men herd cattle by horseback for miles to reach better grazing, camping out under the stars and in thunderstorms, among mountain lions and other wildlife. I tried not to worry but was not succeeding.

  If only I could talk to him, maybe I could relax. But they didn’t have phone service in that remote area. So I worried … and prayed … and prayed some more.

  I couldn’t be everywhere or do everything. But God could. I couldn’t reach my son by phone. But I could reach God through prayer. The thought that God could see my son at that very moment brought me peace.

  I imagined God looking down on my son as the guys sat around the campfire looking up at the same moon that gave my darkened bedroom a comforting glow. A peaceful feeling washed over me, and trusting that He would watch over Michael, I fell into a restful sleep.

  BLESSINGS

  BY AMANDA FLAUD

  Praise God …

  For the opportunity to start over at the dawn of each new day.

  Ask God.

  To use you for a lamp so He can shine through you.

  Thank God …

  For giving you another awesome day with the people you care about.

  GRATEFULNESS

  Praise the LORD. Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.

  —PSALM 106:1, NIV

  From Cindy

  When I was a child, my mom or dad put the food on my plate, and all of it had to be eaten before I could leave the table. I gagged my way through many a meal, was sent to my room during mealtime, and often ended up sitting at the table by myself while everyone else went to watch television. The upside is that I learned to eat foods I didn’t like. The downside is that I still hate most of those same foods.

  As a result of my experiences, when my children said they hated something after trying it, I gave them a choice of other items with similar nutritional value. One son disliked most fresh fruits, but he loved certain ones and almost all fruit juices—100 percent pineapple, orange, apple. He hated cooked carrots, broccoli, and English peas but would eat raw carrots and broccoli. He still doesn’t eat English peas.

  Was my method helpful, or did I teach my children to expect to like what’s placed in front of them? Was my parents’ method better in the long run?

  I don’t know.

  But I do know that no parents are as right as they hope to be at the time the decisions are made. Our one redeeming grace for all the verdicts we must give—and the fruit they bear—is that God is fully capable of redeeming our children from our brilliance. First Peter 1:3–4 says, “According to his abundant mercy [God] hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you.”

  For that, we can all be extremely grateful.

  From Miriam

  The clip, clop, clip, clop of the horses’ hoofs pounded in perfect rhythm on the asphalt as my daughter and I drove slowly toward home. My day had started long before the sun rose. I had washed and hung laundry on the clothesline to dry, got Mark, my eleven-year-old, off to school, picked ten to fifteen dozen ears of sweet corn and loaded them onto our horse-drawn wagon to take to my sister’s—all before eight o’clock. After spending all day husking, washing, blanching, and then cutting the corn off the cobs and bagging it to freeze, Amanda and I were finally on our way home.

  I had been tempted to call for a driver to take us that morning since we had such a busy day ahead of us. But as we drove home along the country road in the late-summer sunshine, I found the slow buggy ride enjoyable.

  Being Amish isn’t always easy. Sometimes our rules and guidelines make life a little harder than I’d like. Yet doing without holds blessings too.

  If I had a car, I’d whiz around in all my busyness instead of enjoying the slow pace of a relaxing buggy ride on a beautiful afternoon.

  As much as I would like to use a dryer during bad weather, I’d miss the pleasure that comes from taking a basketful of clothes into the fresh morning air.

  A microwave oven must be handy, but I’d never want to be without my faithful old wood-burning cookstove. I light a fire in it on cool autumn mornings to take the chill off my kitchen as my family gathers for breakfast. I love the faint smell of wood smoke, and the crackle and pop of the fire is music on a cold day.

  The hot days of summer can be trying. But since I don’t have an air conditioner, I try to work outdoors in the garden or yard in the coolest hours and stay inside where my brick home keeps me reasonably cool during the hottest part of the day. I open the windows and listen to the birds on bright sunny days, the gentle rains on cloudy days, and the sound of horses passing by my home. Open windows make it easier to hear the ringing of my telephone from the outdoor phone shanty, and that keeps me from missing important calls from one of my children or a sister or friend who needs to chat.

  Leaving it all in God’s hands, I thank Him for the challenges as well as the blessings.

  SEEKING AND FINDING

  And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

  —ROMANS 8:28

  From Cindy

  A few months ago I was by myself in unfamiliar territory, driving from one author event to another. My vehicle has a GPS system, which is great, but it isn’t much help without an address. So I pulled off the road, dug my BlackBerry out of my satchel, and looked for the address of the radio station where I was scheduled to give an interview. I quickly realized I hadn’t logged that into my list of contacts.

  Then I remembered I’d received the info via an e-mail a few weeks back. I scrolled through my recent e-mails. Within two minutes I found what I was looking for. M
y laptop sat on the passenger seat next to me, so I opened it and jotted down notes I needed to think about before arriving, and I listed the phone number as well. I then turned off my XM radio, called the radio station, and asked for their street address. After ending the call, I put their address in my GPS, punched the reroute button, turned my XM station back on, and headed for the new destination.

  As I drove, I thought that just fifteen years ago I didn’t own a cell phone. I never traveled by myself. I spent my days homeschooling my children, tending to the wood stove in winter, and folding mounds of cloth diapers.

  Life never stops changing, even for the Amish. Fortunately, our God is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and yet He knows how to help us navigate every change we’ll encounter.

  From Miriam

  WHEN I SAY, “I AM A CHRISTIAN”

  BY CAROL WIMMER

  When I say, “I am a Christian”

  I’m not shouting, “I’ve been saved!”

  I’m whispering, “I get lost!

  That’s why I chose this way”

  When I say, “I am a Christian”

  I don’t speak with human pride

  I’m confessing that I stumble—

  needing God to be my guide

  When I say, “I am a Christian”

  I’m not trying to be strong

  I’m professing that I’m weak

  and pray for strength to carry on

  When I say, “I am a Christian”

  I’m not bragging of success

  I’m admitting that I’ve failed

  and cannot ever pay the debt

  When I say, “I am a Christian”

  I don’t think I know it all

  I submit to my confusion

  asking humbly to be taught

  When I say, “I am a Christian”

  I’m not claiming to be perfect

  My flaws are all too visible

  but God believes I’m worth it

  When I say, “I am a Christian”

  I still feel the sting of pain

  I have my share of heartache

  which is why I seek His name

  When I say, “I am a Christian”

  I do not wish to judge

  I have no authority

  I only know I’m loved6

  GIVING AND ACCEPTING

  Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom.

  —LUKE 6:38

  From Cindy

  When I heard about a stranger’s set of circumstances, I longed to do something to help her. The woman, who spoke no English, had come to America to help her dying sister. After landing at the airport, the woman attempted to hire a taxi, but as soon as all her belongings, including her purse, were loaded, the alleged taxi driver drove off.

  Tommy and I had no extra money to speak of. The few hundred dollars we did have was for that month’s mortgage payment. But our lack of funds didn’t ease my feeling that I should do something for this woman. So I cleaned out our storage room, closet, drawers, and cabinets, put a price tag on each item, and had a yard sale, which brought in nearly a hundred and fifty dollars.

  I’d heard that an offering plate would be passed for her during a church service on the other side of town. I knew people with money would easily give a lot more than my paltry amount, but I had to follow my heart. I passed the money to her anonymously. I never even met the woman.

  It wasn’t much, but it was all I had to give. And I had to trust that whatever that money couldn’t accomplish wasn’t my responsibility. I’d done my part, and I trusted that God would do His.

  From Miriam

  My sister Sarah became a grandmother for the first time at the age of forty. As she sat in the hickory rocker by the stove, gently rocking her newborn granddaughter, her joy knew no bounds. She held the pink bundle close to her heart as memories of her own firstborn replayed in her mind.

  Ruthie, the new mom, brought out her own baby book. As Sarah turned the pages, she recognized her handwriting from years ago where she had filled in Ruthie’s weight, length, color of eyes and hair, and all the memorable firsts. Sarah also noticed that her daughter had filled in some blanks on her own.

  When the book asked for one of the child’s fondest memories of a vacation, Sarah expected her daughter to have written about their trip to the beach in South Carolina or the week they spent on the coast of Maine touring lighthouses. But to Sarah’s surprise, Ruthie had written that the best vacations were the ones at home on the farm, when her mother packed a picnic lunch and took the kids down to the creek behind the barn. She and her brothers spent many a lazy afternoon wading in the water or riding the low-hanging branch of an uprooted tree that hung over the creek, pretending it was a horse. Then they would all sit under the shade tree and enjoy their picnic.

  Tears blurred Sarah’s vision as she swallowed the lump in her throat. She had always leaned toward the simple things in life. Money was usually tight for the young farming family, but by giving what she could, Sarah gave her children one of the most important things a mother can give—time.

  It touched her heart to know that her married daughter also treasured the simple things, remembering that time with family is important, no matter where it’s spent.

  INNOCENCE IN ACTION

  Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before.

  —PHILIPPIANS 3:13

  From Miriam

  As a five-year-old, my brother Johnny loved playing in the family carriage while it was parked … without the horse hitched up, of course. His imagination could take him for miles. Unfortunately, this sport was strictly forbidden by our father.

  One afternoon Daed came home from work earlier than usual and found Johnny playing in the forbidden carriage. Sticking his head in the door, Daed asked, “Son, why are you playing in the buggy when I’ve told you not to?”

  His startled son replied, “Because … I didn’t know you were at home.”

  In the face of such innocent honesty, Daed couldn’t keep a straight face.

  I wonder how many times we adults try the same antic as that five-year-old. When we think our “Daed” isn’t looking, we do things we know aren’t right. But the Scriptures tell us that we can be sure our sins will find us out (see Numbers 32:23). I don’t want to be caught doing something the Lord has told me not to, especially since I know that His rules are for my own good.

  From Cindy

  We all believe lies about ourselves at one time or another. You may know the lie you believe. Or your behavior might indicate that you believe a lie you don’t even realize you’ve accepted.

  Most books—whether inspirational, secular historicals, women’s fiction, romance, suspense, or mystery—are built around one principle: what lie the characters believe about themselves.

  One of my early childhood memories is of my mother reading to me before bedtime. For me, bedtime came really early. In spring and summer, the sun shone for a long time after I had to crawl into bed. I could hear other children playing in nearby yards and often wondered why I had to go to bed so much earlier than other five-, six-, and seven-year-olds. My conclusion was that I was such a pain that my family could only get relief by banning me to a room by myself.

  I now know there were good reasons for my mom putting me to bed early during those years. She had health issues, including back problems. My dad left for work around four in the morning and returned home around five at night. The six of us had dinner together as a family, watched a television show, and then it was time for me, as the youngest, to go to bed.

  How many times do we make something personal when it wasn’t about us at all?

  Another lie we buy into comes from comparing our weakest area with someone else’s strongest area, to the point we start believing that we’re not any good at anything. We
think of our uniqueness as oddness. Because we haven’t yet found where we fit, we decide we don’t fit anywhere.

  The problem with lies is that there’s always a smidgen of truth inside them. Our challenge is to disbelieve the lies, and if we can’t do that, we must choose to believe God more than we believe the lies. I’ve found several Bible verses that help me stand against the lies that assail me. One of my favorites is Philippians 1:6: “Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (NIV). Another helpful verse is 2 Corinthians 10:12: “But they measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not wise.”

  What lie do you believe about yourself? How will you combat that lie and begin to believe what God says about you instead?

  SWIMMING UPSTREAM

  For all these have of their abundance cast in unto the offerings of God: but she of her penury hath cast in all the living that she had.

  —LUKE 21:4

  From Miriam

  Many times I’ve questioned certain things or desperately wanted an answer on a particular subject—an instant answer if possible. I wish I could ask God a question and have Him answer right back.

  I enjoy almost all reading, but I’ve never been fond of reading instructions. I’ve attempted to put grills, strollers, highchairs, and even a swing set together without studying the manuals first. I’d rather bake from memory than bother with a cookbook. Only when all else fails do I finally give in and get out the much-needed directions.