Browsing Tag

Prejudice

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Sister to Sister: The Post Most Remembered

Posted on December 14, 2016

1891560_10151866086376384_2136153223_oIt’s not just the most popular holiday post. This post from December, 2010 is, far and away, the most popular post ever in the Bless Your Heart annals. It’s presumptuous, I know, to say that anything in this little place is popular, but I think it’s just that never, ever in a million years, would anyone have thought I’d get this particular knock at my door and that the little hospitality haven we love would be subjected to such an inquiry…accusation, even. So here it is again…just because it’s the holiday and just because someone mentioned it this week in an email, and just because it still makes me laugh….

I was doing one of my favorite things—wrapping presents—in the kitchen last Thursday when I looked out my kitchen window and saw a Madison County Sheriff’s patrol car slow to a stop right in front of my house. Two big fellows with guns and badges got out of the car and approached my kitchen door. I’d already opened the door before they got inside the picket fence as they came up the sidewalk. I plunged headlong into an amazing conversation with them:

“Can I help you?”

“How are you ma’am?”

“Good…How ‘bout you?”

“Pretty good…Listen, we just came out to ask if you’ve got some sort of well pump or something that would make a big spewing kind of sound…”

“Well, no. We don’t have a well and I can’t really think of any sound like that around here. Why?”

“Well, is there anything out here that would let off steam or hiss or…” (at this point, the officer make a big sound)… “PSHHHHHHH!”

“Well, sometimes when I am jogging out on the road, I think my air conditioner is a bit loud, but why? Did someone send you out to see if I have a well pump?”

“Well, actually not a well pump. Actually (pause…pause) somebody reported that you have a meth lab.”

“…Excuse me…but did you say ‘a meth lab?’”

“Yes ma’am. A meth lab.”

“Sir, would you all like to come in my house?”

“Well, really ma’am…she didn’t think it was in your house. She says you are running a meth lab in that little cottage. She pointed straight to that little house in your back yard.”

“The cabin?!! She thinks we’re running a meth lab in the cabin?!”

(See, at this point, the conversation was getting to be very surreal to me. This was starting to seem like something from a bizarre dream, where you wake up and think, “Oh wow! That was weird. Why’d I dream that?”)

“Yes ma’am,” he responded, jerking me back to strange reality.

“Well, then do you want to come in the cabin?”

“Well, ma’am, we can tell this is not going to be a drug bust. In fact, we’re really sorry we scared you. It’s probably a little unnerving when we drive up. I guess the main thing now is…well, we’re kind of concerned about your elderly neighbor back on the street behind you. She’s pretty sure you’re running a meth lab. In fact, she fell in my arms and got all emotional when she realized I was going to come check it out.”

“You mean she cried?”

“Yeah. Do you think you could maybe keep an eye on her—maybe go and check on her and make sure someone’s looking after her. She could have had a stroke or she might need some medical attention. I’m not a doctor, but maybe she needs to go see one. Something’s just not right.”

“Yes. I will see about her. Maybe I can find out if she has kids and if they are checking on her. I’ll try to put her closer neighbors on alert and make sure they keep an eye out. I’ll take her a loaf of bread and check on her myself, too.”

And so the next evening I stopped over to see her on my way to the church holiday party. I had made a batch of chai tea to take her, attached a card with the directions for mixing it along with our contact info, and I was on the porch ringing the bell. I waited…and waited…and at last…the door opened just a crack, a little, stooped grey-haired lady peered out just a bit and I said,

“Hello. I’m your neighbor.”

“Did you say you’re my neighbor?” she said with a hard stare.

“Yes ma’am” I’m the one… you know with the cabin… where the sheriff came out yesterday?”

“Thank the Lord!” she said with a great sigh of relief in her voice. “Thank the Lord they did! Why on earth are you running a meth lab, anyway?”“Oh Ma’am. I’m NOT running a meth lab. I don’t even know how to run a meth lab and I surely don’t want to market any meth.”

“Well, how do you explain that terrible, awful smell that comes from that cottage down there?”

“Well, I haven’t smelled anything, but what does it smell like?”

“Well, I never smelled anything like it before…It’s a strong and very terrible smell. I mean it’s awwwful! It’s just sickening.”

“Well, I really don’t know what you could be smelling.”

“Well, if you don’t know anything about it, you had better ask your husband!”

“Well my husband isn’t running a meth lab, either. My husband is a good man.”

“Well, he may be a good man, but still…”

“Well, ma’am, I have a good idea. Why don’t you let me walk you out to my car and you can go down to the cabin with me and you can go in and see for yourself.”

“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. I have a hard time walking and I’m in poor health. I don’t think I want to do that.”

“Well, then, I don’t know how I can make you believe that our cabin is just a little guest house. It’s just extra rooms…you know…for people to come and stay.”

“Well, who’s staying there now?”

“Well, nobody at the moment. It’s just for guests, you know.”

“Oh, well I have extra rooms, too. I know what extra rooms are for.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be going along now, since I’m not convincing you.”

“Yes. That would be very good. I wish you would.”

“Well, here’s some chai and the directions are right on this little card. It’s really good stuff.”

She eyed the jar carefully and said, “No I won’t keep that. You just take that on back with you.”

“Well, will you at least keep the card so you can call me in case you need something?”

“Well, I’m fine,” she snapped. She took the little card and gingerly held it between the tips of her thumb and forefinger, as if it were a bomb ready to detonate at the least little jiggle. “I don’t need a thing.”

“Do you have children who come to see you often?”

“Oh yes. My son looks in on me every day. He takes good care of me and I am just fine,” she said, with an emphasis on the “I”, as if to intimate that it was I who needed someone to “look in” on me.”

“Well, goodnight then.”

“Good bye.”

And that was my encounter with the woman who blew the whistle. I let out a long wavering breath as I walked to my car in the chill of the harsh December air. Who would have thought my neighbor in this serene little country village would have patently accused me of operating a methamphetamine laboratory? And to quote my philosophical friend, David Lipe, “What in the round world” could be done about it? Not a blessed thing. (And what a great prelude to the jovial festivities of the party. She knew how to put you right in the spirit.)Lessons from the meth lab:

  1. There are some things that are simply beyond my control. Perhaps that’s why the apostle Paul said, “If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men” (Romans 12:8). Sometimes, for various reasons, it is just not possible.
  2. Sometimes people have a false sense of security. This woman kept reiterating to me that she was “just fine.” Sometimes, just as she thought she was physically and mentally sound, people think they are spiritually “just fine,” when, in reality, they may be very ill. “Because thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked. I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich; and white raiment, that thou mayest be clothed, and that the shame of thy nakedness do not appear; and anoint thine eyes with eyesalve, that thou mayest see” (Rev.3:17,18).
  3. Sometimes people refuse the very help they need the most. What can you think of that this woman really could use more than caring neighbors who are willing to look in on her and see to her needs? Yet this is the very thing of which she is most afraid. Often, people need the Lord and his people desperately, yet they fear the commitment, the changes and the holiness that will ultimately save their souls.
  4. Often, people make the evidence fit their hypotheses rather than making their hypotheses based on the evidence. I’m quite sure that this woman’s “evidence” was fabricated by some sort of dementia. But, in spiritual matters, we often let our preconceived ideas lead the evidence rather than allowing evidence to lead our ideas.
  5. I can’t ever tell what a day may bring (Proverbs 27:1). I must be ready to face the challenges of life, whatever they may be, head on, with faith, each day.
  6. The Golden Rule never leaves me wondering—how to treat the elderly, how to treat the misguided sheriff, whether or not to contact this woman’s son, etc… It’s universal in its applicability and it’s very easy to figure out its demands. This comes in very handy, especially in situations that are reactive (where you have to give a reasonable response very quickly) rather than pro-active.

So, anyway…what in the round world?

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

Sister to Sister: Black Lives Matter…There’s No Band-Aid

Posted on July 11, 2016

498484120_1280x720The irony of the Black Lives Matter movement lies in its consistent insistence to assign motives to policemen prior to any process of investigation. While it’s clearly wrong for a policeman to assume, without evidence, that a person of color is a criminal and to act on that assumption, it’s surely the same leap for people of color to assume that a policeman who is making a traffic stop is pulling a person over because he is black and not because he is violating a traffic ordinance.

A young black girl got into the car of a friend of mine recently. This friend has gone out of her way on multiple occasions to transport this young girl, whose family is unwilling or unable to provide transportation for her. The conversation, on this particular day, turned to law enforcement  officers. The young girl commented “I don’t like cops. They don’t like us. They just want to hurt my people, just because we’re black.”

Now the girl is just a young teen. She was, very likely, just spewing forth what she’d heard others say. Surely she didn’t realize, though, that she was saying it to the mother of a young man who puts on that uniform every morning and works diligently all day to protect the people of her city—to protect her. She didn’t know she was profiling. And there’s lot of profiling going on in the BLM movement.

The reason all human lives matter is because all souls matter for all of eternity. God is the soul-giver and He doesn’t make souls in colors or with bank accounts. When we come to understand that in each hoodie and in each uniform is a soul that will live in eternity in heaven or hell, we’re gaining ground toward peace; not because some aura of compassion comes over us when we attach a spiritual connotation to the people around us, but, rather, because when God is recognized as the Creator and Soul-giver, recognition of and respect for His inherent authority necessarily follows. His Word is the prescription for peace in our land. It both ordains and controls law enforcement agencies (Romans 13) and it instructs the citizenry in living with respect and deference to fellowmen. When we remove that Word from our society and make a mockery, on so many levels, of its precepts and authority, surely we should not be surprised when chaos ensues.

Are there thinking people who truly believe life’s better in America now that we’ve divorced ourselves from a national respect for the Word of God? Give me respect for the Word in our land any day and take me back to an era where children could safely ride their bikes all over their communities, where babies were safe in the wombs of their mothers, where fathers worked hard to provide for their families and mothers nurtured children in loving homes. Bring repentance to the hearts of those who have prejudice and malice, and a strong desire in the hearts of God’s people to bring souls to the Cross. The ground is level at the foot of the Cross. But the cross is not an invitation to a free-for-all. It’s for all, but it’s not free. The Cross is not a compromise with sin. It’s an ultimatum.

The men in blue are clearly a part of the Biblical  system of authority found in God’s Word. Christians in the first century church were called on to respect and obey civil authority even though their Roman government was oppressive and persecuted Christians. But when we estrange our government and our citizenry from the One who is at the top of the chain of command, all the links are weakened and governmental systems fail. The reason we can’t find the band-aid to put on the violence that’s erupting around our nation is because it’s really hard to find a band-aid when internal bleeding is quickly draining life away. Our nation, without any respect for truth and righteousness, is under cardiac arrest.

Bless Your Heart by Cindy Colley

From the Archives: I Need this Reminder…

Posted on June 20, 2016

female-with-burger-cartoon-business-vector-character_zkuQM1OO_SLooking at the clock on the radio, I knew I didn’t have time to go back home. It was already 6:32 and Bible study started at 7:00. I had forgotten my phone again. It’s lying by my bed on the nightstand, but nobody will call me anyway. Glenn is fast asleep somewhere in Ukraine where it’s 2 am (2:32 to be precise) and everybody else I know will be at church. No worries.
Driving through Huntsville in a pelting and blinding rain, I started to wonder if everybody would be there tonight. But I was wrong to wonder. Encouraged by a great crowd with several visitors, a dynamic lesson by Todd Clippard, watching a four-year old in the foyer say all the books of both Testaments, and then getting a couple of contacts while attending a short visitation meeting, I was ready to go home and accomplish a few housekeeping chores before bedtime.

But I have to pass Sonic on my way home. Now that’s a blessing and a curse. The blessing is the Route 44 diet Dr. Pepper. The curse is the hamburger you really want to go with it. I’d skipped supper, was hungry and ordered both (but just the 8 point burger, no mayo and definitely no fries or onion rings).

I paid with my credit card, turned the radio down and said a prayer while waiting for my order. I thanked God for the food that was coming. Then I turned the radio back on. I thought about calling my kids, but, oh yeah…no phone.

Listening to oldies, savoring every one of those eight points and thinking about what a good day it had been and what an even better day it would be tomorrow, because that’s the day Glenn gets back to the US, I thought, “Life is good,” as Glenn often quips.

Then the abrupt pop came from the radio. The radio stopped playing, the fan stopped blowing, the window would not roll up or down. When I turned the key, there was nothing but a repetitive clicking sound. I started to think about my options. They were limited. I might walk home but it’s much too far and it’s raining. I might call someone… if I had a phone. I might ask someone in a car next to me to think really hard and see if he has any ideas, but he does not look very nice. I might call a cab… if I had a phone. I might go over to the highway and hope somebody nice passes by…somebody from church…but they will not pass by because they’d already left the building before I did. I might try to go up to that huge emergency vehicle that’s taking up three parking places over there and ask the EMS people if they have any ideas. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. This is an Emergency and they could do me a service. The only part of EMS that this is not is the M for “medical.” I bet they will help me. I’m doing it. I’m walking over there and see if they will look down and see me. I am not tall enough to knock on their window. And, alas…they are driving away. I am stepping in puddles to get to them and they are driving away and they are splashing me.

Getting back in my car, I decided to rummage through my purse. Maybe I did bring that phone. I didn’t. Let me look around this lot again. Maybe someone is a nice person…No, I don’t think so. This is Northwest Huntsville. In fact, I am scared. Why do I even come to this scary place??!!

But I will get “scareder” and “scareder” if I keep procrastinating and not thinking of anything to do. Everyone knows a scary place is twice as scary when it gets past nine or ten at night. I’ll just have to go up to the door where it says “Employees Only” and hope there is an employee who looks nice and will have pity on me and let me come in and use their phone. I hope they have a phone book, too. But no employees look nice either. They look tattoo-ey and smoky and I think all of them cuss. They probably will want to cuss at me when they know that my car is likely going to spend the rest of the night here in one of only a few places where they don’t have to walk in this rain to deliver the order.

But one of the not-so-nice looking employees came to the door and said, “Can I help you?” She called to her friend who had a cell phone. She immediately handed it to me. Another employee scrambled for the phone book. The two of them walked out and looked at my car. One looked under the hood. One had jumper cables. But by now the car would not even go into neutral so we could push it away from the Sonic order box sign thingies, so we could get a car close enough to connect the cables. Then a third employee walked over. He was the scariest because he was the biggest. He started asking me questions like “What does your husband do?” and “Why is he out of the country?” I wondered just why this not-so-nice-looking man wanted to know these things. He wanted to know what church he preaches for and where is this church? I sort of wanted to stop telling this man about my husband being out of the country and I sort of wanted to say “ I don’t really know the answer to this question. Could I phone a friend? With your phone??” But then he said, “I am a member of the church of Christ, too. I’m just in Huntsville because I go to UAH. I am a member of the church in Birmingham.”

It is just so strange. Suddenly this big six foot-four man did not look “not-so-nice.” As he walked over to his car to get some longer jumper cables he looked more like “very nice.” He helped the girl (whose car was not close enough because of these ordering boxes) to jump the curb from the other side and pull up into the middle of the sidewalk, so she could jump me off. He connected the two batteries. He said, “Go try it now.” I started the car and told them both that I love them! I do love them. I am, because of their kindness, sitting in my warm dry bedroom thinking.

Sometimes, when I was a child, after I had inflicted some injustice or said some harsh word, my mother used to tell me to just go to my room and “think about it.” I really hated when she told me to go and think about something.” I had really rather have had a thrashing than to have to go and “think about something.” So I would decide that I would go to my room, but I would not think about it. The ironic trouble is… the more you decide not to think about it, the more you think about it. And I guess you learn a thing or two when you think about it. I’m sure my mother knew all of this to be the case.

So, tonight, I am thinking about it. Here are some lessons learned as I think about it:

1. Do not wait till the last minute to leave for church. Not a good habit.
2. Keep up with your cell phone. If I’ve heard Glenn say it once I have heard him say it a thousand times: “I do not know why I even pay for that phone. It is never turned on and if it is turned on, it is not with you.”
3. Do not be out in the open in West Huntsville late at night when your husband is out of the country.
4. Memorize some local friends’ phone numbers or at least write them down and put them in your car, in case you fail at #2.
5. Carry some jumper cables with you.
6. Do not park so close to the order box thing that you cannot fit between it and your car. If you have to go back and forth, and back and forth from the driver’s seat to the engine, you will get very wet, especially when you have to walk all the way around a huge banner advertising happy hour with half- price drinks and slushes; a banner that is tied to the two posts and blocks the entire sidewalk… every single time you make this trek from driver’s seat to engine. Makes you feel like maybe if you were going to walk this much and get this wet, you should at least be going toward home.
7. Always carry enough money with you so that you can give a little to someone who has goodness in his/her heart. I had exactly thirteen dollars to my name. I was glad I had at least paid for my burger with my credit card or it would have been even less. I had even given all my pocket change to the other girl as a tip when she brought my food. I gave my thirteen dollars to one of the employees and told her I wish it could have been more. I do.

But the most important lesson is this: Cindy Colley, please resolve to stop summing people up based on appearances, situations of employment, areas of town, or any other outside indicators. Guess what? All outside indicators would have shouted that my vehicle was by far the most dependable of any of the cars of any of the employees who helped make mine run. It was nicer, newer, more expensive when purchased and cleaner. But none of that mattered tonight. What mattered was what was occurring under the hood. People are that way. The people at Sonic were that way tonight. See, these people whom I was misjudging, based on appearances, as those who could probably care less about my plight, were, in fact, those who knew what to do and didn’t think twice about whether or not they were doing it. They didn’t ask me if I would like for them to come out in the rain and see if they could help. They just got about the business. They didn’t look like the most dependable people to me. But, under the hood, they had what was needed and they freely gave it. One of these people was my brother in Christ. I am going back to Sonic in the next couple of days and carry him some homemade bread and some good spiritual books. He looks like the kind of guy who would really enjoy reading them!

“But the Lord said to Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature, because I have refused him; for the Lord sees not as man sees; for man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”

Uncategorized

It’s About What’s Under the Hood

Posted on June 14, 2010
Looking at the clock on the radio, I knew I didn’t have time to go back home. It was already 6:32 and Bible study started at 7:00. I had forgotten my phone again. It’s lying by my bed on the nightstand, but nobody will call me anyway. Glenn is fast asleep somewhere in Ukraine where it’s 2 am (2:32 to be precise) and everybody else I know will be at church. No worries.

Driving through Huntsville in a pelting and blinding rain, I started to wonder if everybody would be there tonight. But I was wrong to wonder. Encouraged by a great crowd with several visitors, a dynamic lesson by Todd Clippard, watching a four-year old in the foyer say all the books of both Testaments, and then getting a couple of contacts while attending a short visitation meeting, I was ready to go home and accomplish a few housekeeping chores before bedtime.

But I have to pass Sonic on my way home. Now that’s a blessing and a curse. The blessing is the Route 44 diet Dr. Pepper. The curse is the hamburger you really want to go with it. I’d skipped supper, was hungry and ordered both (but just the 8 point burger, no mayo and definitely no fries or onion rings).

I paid with my credit card, turned the radio down and said a prayer while waiting for my order. I thanked God for the food that was coming. Then I turned the radio back on. I thought about calling my kids, but, oh yeah…no phone.

Listening to oldies, savoring every one of those eight points and thinking about what a good day it had been and what an even better day it would be tomorrow, because that’s the day Glenn gets back to the US, I thought, “Life is good,” as Glenn often quips.

Then the abrupt pop came from the radio. The radio stopped playing, the fan stopped blowing, the window would not roll up or down. When I turned the key, there was nothing but a repetitive clicking sound. I started to think about my options. They were limited. I might walk home but it’s much too far and it’s raining. I might call someone… if I had a phone. I might ask someone in a car next to me to think really hard and see if he has any ideas, but he does not look very nice. I might call a cab… if I had a phone. I might go over to the highway and hope somebody nice passes by…somebody from church…but they will not pass by because they’d already left the building before I did. I might try to go up to that huge emergency vehicle that’s taking up three parking places over there and ask the EMS people if they have any ideas. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. This is an Emergency and they could do me a service. The only part of EMS that this is not is the M for “medical.” I bet they will help me. I’m doing it. I’m walking over there and see if they will look down and see me. I am not tall enough to knock on their window. And, alas…they are driving away. I am stepping in puddles to get to them and they are driving away and they are splashing me.

Getting back in my car, I decided to rummage through my purse. Maybe I did bring that phone. I didn’t. Let me look around this lot again. Maybe someone is a nice person…No, I don’t think so. This is Northwest Huntsville. In fact, I am scared. Why do I even come to this scary place??!!

But I will get “scareder” and “scareder” if I keep procrastinating and not thinking of anything to do. Everyone knows a scary place is twice as scary when it gets past nine or ten at night. I’ll just have to go up to the door where it says “Employees Only” and hope there is an employee who looks nice and will have pity on me and let me come in and use their phone. I hope they have a phone book, too. But no employees look nice either. They look tattoo-ey and smoky and I think all of them cuss. They probably will want to cuss at me when they know that my car is likely going to spend the rest of the night here in one of only a few places where they don’t have to walk in this rain to deliver the order.

But one of the not-so-nice looking employees came to the door and said, “Can I help you?” She called to her friend who had a cell phone. She immediately handed it to me. Another employee scrambled for the phone book. The two of them walked out and looked at my car. One looked under the hood. One had jumper cables. But by now the car would not even go into neutral so we could push it away from the Sonic order box sign thingies, so we could get a car close enough to connect the cables. Then a third employee walked over. He was the scariest because he was the biggest. He started asking me questions like “What does your husband do?” and “Why is he out of the country?” I wondered just why this not-so-nice-looking man wanted to know these things. He wanted to know what church he preaches for and where is this church? I sort of wanted to stop telling this man about my husband being out of the country and I sort of wanted to say “ I don’t really know the answer to this question. Could I phone a friend? With your phone??” But then he said, “I am a member of the church of Christ, too. I’m just in Huntsville because I go to UAH. I am a member of the church in Birmingham.”

It is just so strange. Suddenly this big six foot-four man did not look “not-so-nice.” As he walked over to his car to get some longer jumper cables he looked more like “very nice.” He helped the girl (whose car was not close enough because of these ordering boxes) to jump the curb from the other side and pull up into the middle of the sidewalk, so she could jump me off. He connected the two batteries. He said, “Go try it now.” I started the car and told them both that I love them! I do love them. I am, because of their kindness, sitting in my warm dry bedroom thinking.

Sometimes, when I was a child, after I had inflicted some injustice or said some harsh word, my mother used to tell me to just go to my room and “think about it.” I really hated when she told me to go and think about something.” I had really rather have had a thrashing than to have to go and “think about something.” So I would decide that I would go to my room, but I would not think about it. The ironic trouble is… the more you decide not to think about it, the more you think about it. And I guess you learn a thing or two when you think about it. I’m sure my mother knew all of this to be the case.

So, tonight, I am thinking about it. Here are some lessons learned as I think about it:

1. Do not wait till the last minute to leave for church. Not a good habit.
2. Keep up with your cell phone. If I’ve heard Glenn say it once I have heard him say it a thousand times: “I do not know why I even pay for that phone. It is never turned on and if it is turned on, it is not with you.”
3. Do not be out in the open in West Huntsville late at night when your husband is out of the country.
4. Memorize some local friends’ phone numbers or at least write them down and put them in your car, in case you fail at #2.
5. Carry some jumper cables with you.
6. Do not park so close to the order box thing that you cannot fit between it and your car. If you have to go back and forth, and back and forth from the driver’s seat to the engine, you will get very wet, especially when you have to walk all the way around a huge banner advertising happy hour with half- price drinks and slushes; a banner that is tied to the two posts and blocks the entire sidewalk… every single time you make this trek from driver’s seat to engine. Makes you feel like maybe if you were going to walk this much and get this wet, you should at least be going toward home.
7. Always carry enough money with you so that you can give a little to someone who has goodness in his/her heart. I had exactly thirteen dollars to my name. I was glad I had at least paid for my burger with my credit card or it would have been even less. I had even given all my pocket change to the other girl as a tip when she brought my food. I gave my thirteen dollars to one of the employees and told her I wish it could have been more. I do.

But the most important lesson is this: Cindy Colley, please resolve to stop summing people up based on appearances, situations of employment, areas of town, or any other outside indicators. Guess what? All outside indicators would have shouted that my vehicle was by far the most dependable of any of the cars of any of the employees who helped make mine run. It was nicer, newer, more expensive when purchased and cleaner. But none of that mattered tonight. What mattered was what was occurring under the hood. People are that way. The people at Sonic were that way tonight. See, these people whom I was misjudging, based on appearances, as those who could probably care less about my plight, were, in fact, those who knew what to do and didn’t think twice about whether or not they were doing it. They didn’t ask me if I would like for them to come out in the rain and see if they could help. They just got about the business. They didn’t look like the most dependable people to me. But, under the hood, they had what was needed and they freely gave it. One of these people was my brother in Christ. I am going back to Sonic in the next couple of days and carry him some homemade bread and some good spiritual books. He looks like the kind of guy who would really enjoy reading them!

But the LORD said unto Samuel, Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the LORD seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart (I Samuel 16:7).

Please visit Cindy’s Blog at cindycolley.blogspot.com/