The Good Stuff Archives - Page 3 of 6

November 2, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

~ Day 22 ~

Did you know that just watching a good deed elevates and inspires? Just watching. “Research shows that we tend to act unselfishly when we see others do the same.” The ripples go on and on.

The possibilities are endless. Here are some great ideas for random acts of kindness (don’t you know, there is a whole site dedicated to them. Very cool.)

“How lovely to think that no one need wait a moment. We can start now, start slowly, changing the world. How lovely that everyone, great and small, can make a contribution toward introducing justice straightaway. And you can always, always give something, even if it is only kindness!”

Anne Frank (1929 – 1945)

We can learn so much from kids.

Happy weekend, friends.

Matthew 11:25-26

At that time Jesus said, “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.

October 24, 2013 by Karin 12 Comments

When We Begin To Get Over Ourselves

31 days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 19 ~

I’ve been a mother for 12 years today.
Really, though, motherhood began 9 months before that (ok, we all know it’s actually 10). When you carry the weight of the future on your bladder for any amount of time, you know the exact amount of time. Down to the very minute.

What I didn’t know… the weight of the future was the very thing that would begin the release of the weight of my selfishness.

Motherhood. The vessel He uses to get us over ourselves.

We enter into this place with a million preconceived notions of how we will play this whole thing out. We step through the door holding this perfect breath from God and we think we might have a clue. This is where it all begins. We have no idea. The thoughts in our minds give way to the crashing wave of pure love. This love washes any idea of who we think we are… away. We come face to face with someone we want to die for – again and again. But, first, we have to die to ourselves. And this is the rub.

The battle – my thoughts, my ideas, my wishes, my dreams collide… with His.

Holding tightly to the holy moment of birth is just the beginning of letting it all go.

This is when our hearts begin to take residence – outside of our bodies. With each baby, over and over again, we die to ourselves… and open up to Him. Only God would begin this slow and often painful death to our selfish natures through the birth of something so breathtakingly exquisite. New life wrapped in the sweet aroma of innocence cradled in our unsuspecting arms. The best of us is yet to come.

Sometimes, though, he lets us begin our journey into selfless love much earlier. Sometimes He allows to exercise these muscles of you-before-me when we are much younger. Perhaps even as young as 11… soon to be 12.

And, sometimes He surprises this unsuspecting mama with a story of an unselfish good deed. A good deed that mama didn’t have to prompt or prod or produce. Sometimes He lets us know we are doing this motherhood thing a little bit right.

I was away on a trip (a small miracle in itself, thanks to my gold-hearted warrior). Dad decided to take our six pack to a carnival. The bravery in that task is another story entirely.

The pumpkins, rides, and treats thrilled this young crew of ours. Most of all, of course, the rides and slides were mission number one.

Tickets bought, treats ingested, it was time. The kids rode and squealed and lived it up.

Our four-year-old discovered quickly that some thrills look better from the ground up.

It’s too scary! I don’t like it!

Our red-headed summer warrior shrieked.

Sometimes bravery is just knowing what you’re not ready for. And saying so.

Tickets dwindled and energy faded.

With only a handful of tickets left to thrill these little ones, my warrior offered them one more ride.

The big kids, ready to tackle the most thrilling ride, grabbed their chance and took off.

Our normally brave little summer girl exclaimed,

But, I want to go on those swings. I’m too scared of that ride.

Daddy stood holding the baby, knowing the only way she would go was with a companion. We don’t really want to go this alone, do we? It’s always better with two.

The kids want to ride that one, sweetie.

Then, the part that bursts a mama heart. All these years of do-this-don’t-do-that-be-nice-share-love-each-other. All the refereeing of siblings. All the times of it’s-not-about-you. Then, this one time. It takes root… and I wasn’t even there. I can’t take credit (but, I can give plenty to my warrior). I can’t even begin to think it had anything to do with what I told my boy to do. He just did it. And my heart explodes.

I’ll go with her, dad.

C’mon, little sister, I’ll take you on the swings.

Now, the swings… they go round and round, not up nor down. Pretty lame for an 11, almost 12-year-old.

They spun in circles, she squealed with glee, and my heart melts.

We teach and train and cajole and plead. We bark and bellow and beg. We hold and hug and pour ourselves out… day after day. Then, God. He gives us a glimpse. A momentary whisper of,

Job well done.

The pouring out… from a big brother to a little sister. This.

This whole new soul dying to self and giving to love. And my heart wholly fills.

2 Thessalonians 3:13

And as for you, brothers, never tire of doing what is right.

October 18, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

What We Can Learn From One of Those

31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 16 ~

We all know those kinds.

The ones we greet with polite smiles while our minds reel,

Not you again.

We wish we wouldn’t react this way, but these types are, well, beyond annoying.

We grow up, learn a few manners, and cover our irritation with veiled smiles and rapid excuses.

Right now isn’t a good time. Maybe later?

Oh, I have to run. So sorry.

We want to be kind, we want to be neighborly, but that one… that one… drives us crazy.

We’ve all had one of those. Maybe, we have been one of those.

This is a story about one of those. The ones we judge by past history or history that has been passed by word of mouth (nah, not gossip). No one is above this feeling. It’s really how we react… how we change our perspective… that changes our heart. Sometimes, one of those people has a heart we could learn something from.

Thank you, Joan, for sharing your story and your perspective. (You can find Joan’s blog here).

Ralph Snider’s loud, overbearing manner irritated some people. He monopolized conversations, and exaggerated his slow Texas twang, leaving some to think of him as a backwoods country bumpkin.

Yes—he was loud, talked (a lot), and had a lazy drawl. However, he was well-educated and intelligent. He served as a substitute teacher on several occasions when I was in Junior High. He knew a good deal about local history and was an interesting conversationalist.

He grew up in a time when neighbors visited neighbors unannounced, but nevertheless were welcomed.

Times changed. Lives got busier. People stopped visiting without an invitation. Our small town grew. More people moved to the area, and Mr. Snider’s pop-in visits were often unwelcomed. Many voiced their frustrations over his continuing to drop by unannounced.

I finished school, married, and entered the work force. I learned to avoid him—especially when in a hurry. I don’t have time for this. Plus, he might begin making unexpected visits to our house. That’s the last thing we need after a long day at work.

One day, a friend told me a story about him—one much different from ones the others often relayed. A local church held a luncheon and invited members of the community. Mr. Snider attended. Of course, he would never pass up an opportunity to visit and talk with others.

Danny, a middle-aged mentally challenged man, was present. He came from a poor family that didn’t have a good reputation. Some of his relatives had served time in jail for vandalism and theft. Most people knew Danny was harmless, but many avoided him.

Mr. Snider had already taken a seat when Danny went through the serving line. After receiving his meal, Danny turned to find a table. He bumped against something and spilled the entire plate of food on the floor. Upset and embarrassed, he began to cry.

Without hesitation, Mr. Snider jumped up, went over to Danny, and cleaned the food from the floor. He helped Danny find a table, and brought him a fresh meal.

Mr. Snider didn’t wait for a janitor to clean up the mess. He didn’t turn a blind eye and ignore the situation. He didn’t hesitate to leave his own plate of hot food, which was cold by the time he returned to his chair. He performed a simple act of kindness from the goodness of his heart.

I think we could all learn something from Mr. Snider.

We are given these human suitcases to carry us around on this earth. Some of our suitcases may not be most appealing at first, or second, glance. It’s when we unzip the weathered cases that we find what’s really inside. The inside may just be the treasure we’ve been avoiding.

God must smile at our surprise.

Hebrews 4:12-13

For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account.

October 16, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

The Best In Others

31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 14 ~

The homecoming is the best part.

I have a new friend down the street.

She is a new mom, in a new house, in a new town, with a deployed husband.

It doesn’t take long to connect with someone who is in the shoes you have worn to paper-thin soles. It doesn’t take long to remember that feeling of staying behind to hold it all together. It doesn’t take long for the visions of leaking washers, broken alarms, dead car batteries, sick children, temperamental refrigerators, and sleepless nights to resurface.

It doesn’t take long to commiserate in the truth… everything breaks when they are gone.

Deployments begin with a spiteful appliance whispering,

Yea, I’m broken. Thought I’d let you know… now.

Always when they are gone.

My friend with this cherub of a brown-eyed baby boy has reached the end of the parenting alone, the fixing alone, the worrying alone, and the doing alone. Her wait is over.

Homecoming is the very best part.

She shared a story with me. A good deed at a desperate time.

We left our two cars on base here. I was heading home to stay with my parents and we needed to leave the cars in a safe place. When I returned to town and moved into our new house, our friend went to base and returned my car to me. He brought it right to my house.

Here’s the best part…

He went to base to start our other car so he could bring it to our house before my husband gets home. When he got there, the car wouldn’t start. He had the car towed to his own house. After checking out the whole car, he bought and replaced the battery. He kept the car for a few more days and drove it just to make sure it was running well.

Then, he washed it and cleaned it and brought it right to my door. My husband was touched and thankful that someone had taken care of his family while he was gone.

These deployments bring broken appliances, dead batteries, and too many unwelcome surprises.

These deployments… bring out the very best in others.

These deployments bring us to the deepest of gratitude for those who go out of their way… to bring comfort right to our front door.

James 3:13

Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom.

October 15, 2013 by Karin Leave a Comment

This Is How It Starts

31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 13 ~

I remember that morning.

It was one of those mornings when alarms were ignored, breakfasts inhaled, shoes lost, shirts smudged, belts forgotten, children whined, and mama barked. All the while the hand on the clock decided to skip ahead 5 minutes for every passing second. We were late, the kids were frazzled, and I was done. Four down.

I remember strapping two squirmy little ones into car seats and peeling out of the parking lot. Can’t be late for coffee and Bible study at your own house, you know. Nice.

My attitude had taken over that particular morning, but I was smart enough to know that donuts would be an easy fix for the whiny ones in the back. In fact, I might have one… or two myself. In fact, I might get enough for everyone to share. I wasn’t going down this sugar road alone.

I sat in line at the Dunkin Donuts drive through (this donut thing, it’s just way too easy). My breathing slowed and I finally relaxed enough to tickle kicking feet behind me.

That’s when I felt it. Or heard it. I’m not sure. But, I knew what the message was,

Pay for the car behind you.

I mulled over the thought and replied,

Yea, I’m not sure if I have enough cash on me.

The Voice whispered again,

Pay for them.

The enemy had pretty much taken center stage this morning, and I had too easily given in to the worst parts of myself.

Only one way to turn this day around, and I knew the whispering Voice was the answer. He always is.

I smiled to myself and flipped off bad guy.

Screw you, devil.

I muttered those words as I pulled out some extra money. I paid for the car behind us and drove away. A Boston creme donut and a kick in the tail to my selfishness. Things were turning around that morning.

I shared my morning story with a girlfriend a little while later. She replied with a grin,

We just drove through that drive through and the lady at the window told me people had been paying for each other for about an hour now.

And, that’s how it starts. I’ve heard these stories again and again. Every time they make me smile.

Then, I realized the best part.

A few girlfriends have shared their own stories about drive through kindness. Anna remembers,

I was in the drive thru with my son very early on a cold, December morning on the way to his basketball game. As we got to the window, the barista told me that the car in front of us had paid for ours and told us ‘Merry Christmas!’ My son and I were shocked and thought that was awesome, so we happily paid for the 2 cars behind us, adding in ‘Merry Christmas’ too. My son talked about it for months. He was so proud that we paid it forward then and we do it today, every now and then. It was a great lesson for my son and today, I can still see the look on his face when we were told by the drive thru barista. Priceless.

And Ashley,

We have been through the drive thru at McDonald’s and had the people in front of us pay for our order. We then paid for the people behind us.

The best part… their kids were watching. They watched a good deed in action.

They watch everything we do. It’s when we share a good deed, when we pay it forward… it’s then that we pay it into an entire new generation.

And, that’s how it starts.

Priceless.

Psalm 71:18

Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, O God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your might to all who are to come.

Just Watching

When We Begin To Get Over Ourselves

What We Can Learn From One of Those

The Best In Others

This Is How It Starts

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