Keep your tongue from evil, and your lips from speaking deceit. Depart from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it. – Psalm 34:13-14

We avoid sickness. When an item at the grocery store is recalled or we hear of a friend getting food poisoning from a local restaurant, we avoid the culprits of the disease. If only we were this cautious when it comes to our words. Words may seem fragile and weightless, but the truth is they can harm both the speaker and the listener. Two of the greatest culprits are flattery and gossip.

Flattery is lying: we create empty words that contain only a kernel of truth; we delude the person being flattered, blinding them to reality. We also delude ourselves, hiding our real thoughts and beliefs behind a mask. Gossip may seem harmless because it’s done in secret, but the ideas spread about another person can damage their reputation, opportunities and relationships.

The person we influence most with our negative words is ourselves. If we are not careful, these thoughts and words create a well-worn path in our hearts that lead us to have a bitter and judgmental spirit. The only antidote is God and His Love. It is only as we remember and embrace His generous grace toward us that we can extend it to others. – The Antidote, August 3, from David Jeremiah’s Quest, 2015

Nom, nom, nom. I am grateful for popcorn. It’s amazing how that one extremely hard kernel can become something so addictive, so amazing, so goooooood.

I can walk into a room/theatre/ballpark/carnival/fair/hardware store (thank you, Nuts and Bolts)/plant nursery (thank you Family Tree) and smell popcorn and I pretty much don’t care about anything except getting a large bowl or bag or box and devouring. I don’t care if I’ve just cleaned out a pan full of macaroni and cheese or finished off a quart of chocolate peanut butter ice cream. I don’t care if I am so bloated from overeating at the Chinese buffet. If popcorn smell reaches my nose, my brain says, “Nom, nom, nom…me want popcorn.”

Funny thing how that smell overpowers. Once it enters the nose, there is no stopping. You can’t eat just one piece, you can’t eat just one handful. And in my case, I can’t eat just one small bowl of the addiction.

It’s kind of like what Karissa posted today. “What goes in the mind, lives in the heart.” And I can take that a phrase further tonight. What lives in the heart, comes out of the mouth. You can’t control the urge to unload sadness, or happiness, or anger, or bitterness, or joy, or excitement, or depression. It spreads like that aroma, so that not only the person possessing the “aroma” smells it and is affected, but all in the room have the benefit or the burden of being affected by it, too.

I love how someone very dear to me is always so positive and energetic, no matter the circumstance. They are joyful according to James 1. Their aroma fills a room and changes and affects the atmosphere.

I am not so in love with how someone else very special to me is negative x 5, no matter  the circumstance. There is nothing good about their job, nothing good about this Presidential candidate or that one, nothing good about their church, nothing good about their family members and co-workers, and their words and attitude spread like the smell of burnt popcorn.

Gossip better left unspoken. Guilty.

Flattery that is inflated and empty. Guilty.

Spreading hatred for Presidential candidates. Guilty.

Unloading negative thoughts about someone and sharing ugly with others who didn’t have a first impression but are now infected with mine. Guilty.

Opinions and beliefs and advice unsolicited and offering judgment. Guilty.

Or…

Love. Joy. Peace. In need of…

Patience. In need of…

Kindness. In need of…

Goodness. Faithfulness. In need of…

Gentleness. Self control. In need of…

And understanding.

And compassion.

Jesus…

I am grateful tonight for the conviction I felt today because of words I have spoken. I am grateful that my God loves me anyway and offers generous grace, allowing me to try once again tomorrow, giving me devotions and posts from my daughter and positive people who spur me on and challenge me to be more like Christ.

He opened the doors and windows, let the fresh air in, cleared the burnt popcorn smell out, and tomorrow is a new day to pop a fresh batch of oh, the aroma…

I am grateful for a big bowl of popcorn.

I am grateful for mornings when the air is not thick with humidity and when there is a slight breeze to at least assuage the misery of exercise.

I am grateful for memories made on vacation in Colorado, one of the best, if not the best, vacations I have taken in many many years.

I am grateful for Sunday afternoon ice cream in an ice cream shop with my family.

I am grateful for ice cream, actually. It brought together a group of friends in Avon, brought together my family in Wichita, and it is an almost-nightly date with Sam.

I am grateful for two new friends, Craig and Marjorie, whom we met by chance in a beautiful little shop in Grand Lake.

I am grateful for birthdays, bittersweet as they are. I am grateful for them because they are cause for thinking about my baby girl who is no longer a baby but a grown woman and who makes her mama very proud. And they make me think of my grandson and granddaughter who shared a birthday party last weekend, which makes me grateful that I am allowed access to pictures so that I could at least attend after the fact in spirit.

I am grateful that my Dad thinks of others and does not-so-wonderful things in order for the necessary to happen. The dumpster was full of demo trash, and it was the beginning of the week, with no room for regular garbage. On more than one occasion, Dad has spent time in the garage, breaking down the larger demo trash in order to put a garbage bag inside, all because he is just a good guy and thinks of others and does things like that without the need for recognition. It’s his Quaker-ness. Doing things in secret. So, this time, just pretend you don’t know his good deed(s)…

I am grateful for a post my daughter just put on Facebook: What goes in your mind, lives in your heart. GUARD YOUR HEART.

I am grateful that my boss has returned and life is once again normal in the office.

I am grateful for routine. I like things in order, like my egg for breakfast, my weekly grocery shopping, my route for walking, my daily schedule.

I am grateful for a sweet story about my granddaughter Parker and her reaction to the tragedy of the Titanic exhibit. Her heart is so fragile, so pure…

I am grateful that I took the time to vote yesterday.

I am grateful that my husband can sense when I am in a funk, even when he is far away.

I am grateful for time spent with my Bingo ladies last night at the assisted living facility.

And I am grateful for this devotion:

In the beginning God spoke and it was. His words created something out of nothing. While our words are not as powerful as God’s, Proverbs declares that “death and life are in the power of the tongue.” (Proverbs 18:21a) Once we accept the power of our words, we must decide on their purpose.

Words can be as useful as a strong horse plowing a field or a spark used to start a warm fire on a winter night. They can also rage uncontrollably, destroying what lies in their path. Caring words of support create a safe and intimate friendship. Truthful words spoken in love can offer a friend the opportunity to grow, but spiteful words destroy friendships, and vindictive truth discourages the hearer instead of inspiring them to grow. 

Within seconds, thoughts become words that slip off our tongue and into the world. Pausing before we speak may seem cumbersome, but it allows us to decide: Is this helpful? Does this need to be said now? What is the best way to say this?

Our words reveal what we care about, and they influence others. Is there someone you can encourage today? – “Powerful Words”, August 2, from David Jeremiah’s Quest, 2015

More on that popcorn and changes inside later tonight…

I am grateful for free entry into Rocky Mountain National Park so that we could enjoy it three times in less than 24 hours.

I am grateful for a grocery store sub sandwich, a bag of Halo oranges, a bag of potato chips, and a package of Oreos to enjoy at our picnic for two in the park yesterday afternoon.

I am grateful for 75 degree weather with a slight breeze and a Rocky Mountain backdrop.

I am grateful for the safety of our vehicle, but also for the guts to get out and get close enough to see Mama Elwina and all of her friends and their children grazing all around us last night.

I am grateful that Sam likes to get up with the sun to go and search for more wildlife, rather than sleeping in on vacation and missing out on Enormous Elwood and the magnificent beauty at 12,000 feet.

I am grateful for ice cream that can be found just about everywhere, and I am grateful for late night ice cream walks with friends.

I am grateful for simple motels with just what is needed and nothing fancy.

I am grateful for less cell phone and Internet reception and kind of unplugging from the world.

I am grateful for kind strangers who are friendly right back.

I am grateful for a new piece of art that I am in love with and can’t wait to get it framed and hung, and I am grateful to have met an artist who made my new outfit that I will wear for our grateful breakfast.

I am grateful that this artist and her husband have invited us to their home this evening, all because Sam asked where we might find some aspen wood.

I am grateful for time spent with Julie again.

I am grateful for a very sore backside, because that means the four mile hike down Beaver Creek mountain was worthwhile for my muscles.

I am grateful for a babbling brook this morning, and “He leads me beside still waters, He restores my soul,” playing out in real life.

And I am grateful for the glorious peace and quiet of nature…

A few things for which I am grateful this morning:

Fresh, cool, mountain air.

An audio book of The Notebook.

Finding a really great song to listen to with the windows down.

Pleasant conversation for all of the ten hours of driving.

A good squee-gee at a gas station, along with fresh soapy water.

Hand-holding.

Seeing friends again, one year later.

Getting up very early after very little sleep, just to attend a church service in Vail that we had attended with the youth choir two years ago.

Meeting some very nice young people who work in retail just so they can snowboard all winter.

A brisk walk at dusk to find the ice cream shop.

Seeing our “grateful” artist friend, Jane Hamlin, at her booth in Breckenridge – she hadn’t forgotten us!

http://www.mcssl.com/store/0d0f1d0facd5471fb658c79d5581a9/ir13

Soaking in the beauty of creation before the church service.

Watching a mule deer and her fawn in the same creek just after the service.

Breathing deep.

Feeling relaxed.

Andrae, my first grandson – he’s five years old today!

I’m trying to be grateful for things I am not very grateful for, but it is hard. Here’s a few:

I am grateful for diversity in America. We all have the right to our own opinions and have the right to share those opinions.

I am grateful to be left out. It makes it that much better when I am included.

I am grateful for mosquito bites. No. I’m not.

I am grateful for extremely high utility bills in the summer. It just means we have AC and are so very privileged.

I am grateful for a large vet bill. It means that Natia lives with us, and she is a blessing.

Okay, here are some easy ones:

I am very grateful for my CASA girl’s updated story – she should have a new nickname: Dory. Because she found her way back home.

I am grateful for my sister’s phone calls when she lets me know good news. I am grateful for her phone calls when it’s not so good news, too. She includes me, and I love that.

I am grateful for my brother who indulged in a dumb Facebook activity for me and shared a little insight into his life in the form of 40 silly questions.

I am grateful for the experience of taking my Dad to the vet…for Natia. Dad’s first time to visit a veterinarian’s office.

I am grateful for really sweet watermelon.

I am grateful for shrubs pruned, trees trimmed, weeds hoed, Natia walked, dishes in the dishwasher put away – all thanks to Rachel and her grandpa.

I am grateful for a vacation that starts tomorrow.

And I am grateful for this:

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time. – Sir John Lubbock

My pants are no longer missing. How do I know? I found them. It’s a good thing when you decide to actually clean a closet. I am grateful for the desire to do something productive.

I am grateful for my Dad. He helped clean the house on Saturday and took a few things off my list.

I am grateful for Rachel’s kindness and offers to help. Sam and I were finishing hauling branches from a tree that had split in the storm last week next door, and of course we decided to help out in the heat of the morning on Sunday, and it was such a pleasant surprise to see our niece walk outside and ask one question. “What can I do to help?” And then she did. I know very few 18-year-olds who just offer like that. Actually, I think I only know one, and he’s former 18-year-old, and he happens to be Rachel’s brother. John came over one afternoon a few years ago and just started helping Sam and I paint the house. He told us he just thought it would be nice to help us out. Their parents should be very proud.

I am grateful for a cold shower when covered in sweat. I am not really very grateful, actually not at all grateful, for this heat and humidity.

I am grateful for counseling and my counselor who counsels me so well.

I am grateful that my CASA girl is finally home and grateful that her parents have such huge hearts.

I am grateful for bike rides with Sam on the weekends and a back rest and the joy I see in his eyes when he hears the Harley.

I am grateful for late night Freddy’s custard on a park bench, breeze blowing, moon shining, and good relaxed conversation with my husband.

I am grateful for the privilege of watching our neighbors and their little girl at the pool. Our kitchen window is like a movie screen and the show is all about summer fun right now.

And I am grateful for cinnamon and sugar mixed together and sprinkled on buttered toast.

Our pastor stood last night with a 35-pound chain wrapped around his chest to demonstrate a bitter heart. He was finishing his message on Joseph’s life, a life born into dysfunction, a life filled with ups and downs of his own doing, pits of despair caused by others, and timeless lessons for the world. He closed with a challenge to forgive.

I’ve seen the chain visual aid countless times. And I’ve rid my heart of bitterness and anger and an unforgiving spirit countless times, depending on the Holy Spirit to free me from its weight and hold.

But, careless as I am, I become complacent. One comment here, one incident there, one snub here, one hyper-sensitive emotion there, and the bitterness begins to seep back in.

Three words were all it took last night to bring my heart front and center.

Let it go.

But their self-righteous attitudes hurt deeply and continue to sting.

But I try so hard to not just hear but listen, too, AND make eye contact – is it too much to ask for in return?

But I feel like a third wheel and they always leave me out.

But I haven’t done anything wrong and emotional drama is held against me.

Let it go.

But they don’t know MY side of the story!

But isn’t it obvious to offer to help since we’re doing all the work?

But it isn’t fair that I’m here early and stay late and accomplish more than everyone else, and they still treat me like I’m the low man on the totem pole.

But untruths and rumors are still being spread and I am unable to stop them.

Let it go.

But I went out of my way to have a great attitude and do something nice for them, and they didn’t even say “thank you.”

But I still have PTSD.

But he has done so much for them and has been so forgiving, and he is treated so badly, or not even acknowledged.

But I’ve tried and tried to make myself known and available, and they still have no idea who I am. I feel invisible.

But I do one thing wrong and that negates all of the wrong done to me?

But they’re growing up without me.

Let. It. Go.

But they make more money and I do the same job.

But they only think of themselves!

But it’s been five years – how much longer do I have to be punished?

But they’re in ministry and still treat us as outcasts.

But some of those whom I thought were my friends went silent when I needed them most.

Let. It. Go.

But my heart is genuine and my motives mostly pure.

But they never ask how I’m doing or what is happening in my life.

But we give and give and give and never receive anything in return.

But I was left with almost nothing.

But I don’t fit in.

LET. IT. GO.

But they won’t give us a chance.

But we weren’t invited.

But I’ve tried so hard and it doesn’t matter how hard I try, she won’t let me back in.  All I have are the memories and they are beginning to fade.

But he lost almost everything in order to help rescue me.

But they are missing out on two people who love them so much it hurts and would do anything for them, two people who have learned from the drama and the dysfunction, two people who have vowed to do things different and be grateful for every. last. thing.

Rhonda. Let it go.

But it’s just not fair.  I’ve done all I know to do to mend and repair and live with gratitude and humility and show kindness and mercy to others and open my heart to giving and. and. and.

RHONDA.

The bitterness and unforgiving spirit does nothing but drag me down into a pit of unhappiness and despair. It causes me to cease counting my blessings. It makes me critical and judgmental. I’ve humbled myself and laid myself bare, asking forgiveness of others, but it isn’t as easy to forgive the hurt and the pain directed towards me. It’s a daily need, sometimes hourly. Like hand-washing.

Let it go. Choose today, this moment, to forgive.

And remember what Max Lucado wrote:

You will get through this.
It won’t be painless.
It won’t be quick.
But God will use this mess for good.
Don’t be foolish or naïve.
But don’t despair either.
With God’s help, you’ll get through this. – Max Lucado

Today, I am grateful for a powerful message that hit home last night.

I am grateful for heartfelt, passionate prayer, prayer that opened the door last night to my soul-stirring.

I am grateful that I have a husband who communicates so well and takes the time to listen.

I am grateful for conviction and repentance and the opportunity to start all over again every day, grace freely given to this soul who needs it like soap and water.

And I am grateful for my prayer in song:

If you know you have to swallow a frog, swallow it first thing in the morning. If there are two frogs, swallow the big one first. –Mark Twain

I am THE. WORLD’S. GREATEST. PROCRASTINATOR.  I have things to do, things that require actual work. Things that require actual brain. Things that require perspiration. Things that require actual brain, in case you bypassed that one.

Sometimes, the things that would be accomplished so easily if I were to just take a little action, end up becoming these massive icebergs in my mind and heart because they are HARD. Wah, wah, wah.

My boss loves to tell us to “swallow the big frog.” And she is right. Mark Twain was right.

My niece, Rachel, opened her fortune cookie on Monday night, and this is what it said:

Ugh. I hate it when I’m wrong and even the fortune in the little cookie is right.

So, I am grateful for wisdom via Mark Twain and boss and Rachel’s fortune and the multitude of scriptures about procrastination. Apparently, I am not the solo offender that God had to hammer the point home in His Word.

I am grateful that friends ask for help well in advance when our calendar is blank and it’s easy to say, “Sure, I’d LOVE to help!”, so that when the day arrives, it is not so easily dismissed with other busy-ness…er, laziness.

I am grateful that in the midst of serving, as Roxanne put it last night, God winks. The Holy Spirit nudges. Opportunities are endless to be kind, to serve others, to share grace and generosity.

I am grateful for the reminder from Dad this morning about the Johnson Family letter,  a medium-sized frog that just needed to be swallowed. Swallowed and done.

And I am grateful for Angela’s voicemail shortly before noon, after she swallowed a very large TOAD. And I quote, word for word in completion:

“Ribbit!      Ribbit!      Ribbit!”

You know those times when your brain world is swirling so much that the important work of detailing every. last. grateful. thing. goes by the wayside in order to make room for the swirling lists and appointments and work and agendas and meetings and phone calls and as the days go on, every. last. grateful. thing. becomes a blur and just another thing to cross off the list?

Yeah, I know those times, too.

So when I DO have moments that I could name something for which I am profoundly grateful, I instead close my eyes and try to think of nothing. I instead close my eyes and wish the swirling away. I instead close my eyes and think of a vacation to come. I instead close my eyes and sing in my head:

From the top of the swirl, this is all I can muster out of the grateful lobe of brain:

• Time with family
• Insight and stories from Ron and Pam
• Natia’s snore
• The sound of rain at 5 am
• Understanding and acceptance
• Being included in picture sharing of grandchildren
• Always happy Sam when he calls
• Hope for my CASA girl
• Fresh-baked bread
• Louene’s 101st birthday to celebrate tonight
• 5-year-old Evens, our newest grandson, courtesy of Compassion International
• Chick-Fil-A cows

I came home from Texas after spending the weekend with a house full of grandchildren, and somehow, I lost my pants. I have looked and looked and looked, and they are gone. I am grateful that I have more than one pair of pants.

There is almost nothing better than Fritos corn chips. I am grateful for Mr. Frito.

I am grateful for the end of day when I can take off my shoes, because my feet hurt always.

I am grateful for unexpected surprises, like when my Dad finishes my dreaded weeding job and ties up the surprise tomato plants and buys tomato cages and fills the bird bath and feeds Natia and waters the grass.

I am grateful for hairnets and food industry people who wear hairnets.

I am grateful for the simple pleasure of watching mindless TV shows that do not educate but simply entertain a tired mind. Currently: Big Brother and Braindead.

I am grateful for the pain of unpleasant and traumatic memories, because it makes the present bliss that much better.

I am grateful that I chose to go to the bank just before the rain arrived so that I could smell the fresh and hear the thunder.

I am grateful for memories of an ice cream freezer. Sitting just outside the back door, my job was to sit on towels on top of the ice cream freezer while Mom cranked away. Hmm. Thinking about it, I am grateful I was the youngest, because if I had been one of the olders, I would have had to take a turn at cranking. My job was to sit and keep the motor part from going anywhere, and every once in a while, take a small stick and unclog the drain on the side of the freezer to keep the salt water flowing.

I am grateful for the gift of seeing a Mama taking her toddler for a walk on the trail at noon, toddler on her shoulders and both of them looking like there was nothing better in the world than taking that walk and to look for creatures in the trees. It made me grateful for memories of my own girls on my shoulders…

I am grateful for people who still know the value of making eye contact. I am so disheartened these days at the younger adults who refuse to look people in the eye. Eye contact, people! You don’t have to engage in a huge and drawn out conversation – just smile and say, “Hello!” as you walk past.

I am grateful that I took a little extra time last night to help Barb down the hall to her scary dark room she did not recognize. Sweet Barb… In the last three years, she has slowly forgotten names, forgotten which Bingo game we are playing, forgotten that she just ate, forgotten that she lives at the assisted living facility, forgotten that her Daddy isn’t coming to pick her up after Bingo, forgotten that she lives in room 10, forgotten what she is supposed to do when she wakes up tomorrow morning. She knows when others are annoyed with her and she apologizes incessantly and says “thank you” with the biggest smiles. I am so grateful for Barb.

I am grateful for Louene, celebrating her 101st birthday this weekend, still as brilliant as ever with a little less hearing than last year.

And finally, today, I am so very grateful for our friends, Horst and Linda. We sat at their table on Sunday evening and were treated to a beautiful all-American meal and wonderful conversation, and in the middle of it all, they announced they were going to Hutchinson on Wednesday this week and asked if my Dad would like to co-pilot with Horst.

What a gift. I know that Dad had the time of his life today, and I am anxious to hear all about it tonight.  I am so grateful for dear friends who think of others and do such wonderful things just because. I am so grateful that my Dad loves to fly and had the opportunity to co-pilot today. I am so grateful that I am privileged to drive home in a few minutes to spend the evening with my Dad, eating mac & cheese and watching the Royals. Thank you, Horst and Linda, for giving Dad this gift today, and thank you for bringing him home safely.