Mending Day

Today I wanted to sew. However, I had decided I couldn’t start a new project until I caught up with the mending. It’s not that I’m so virtuous; it’s just that I felt I should do something about the mending before the “to-be-mended” pile reached the ceiling of my sewing room.

I have no idea why I always seem to put off mending for so long, because it’s so gratifying. Most mending jobs take ten minutes or less. I feel so productive when I work through a stack of mending. Today was a success for that reason alone. I even mended a pair of Jasper’s favorite shorts that really should be thrown away. Maybe he’ll get a few more week’s wear out of them.

Flynn left this morning to drive to Birmingham and tomorrow he is supposed to tow Joy’s car back. However, I have yet to hear that they safely arrived in Birmingham, so I am a little concerned.

Quote of the Day:

Jasper: “I’m so glad I’m homeschooled! You know why? Because I get to stay home with you all the time. And, you don’t ever have to miss me.”

An Encouraging Word

You know how the song Home on the Range says, “Where seldom is heard a discouraging word . .  . ?” Well, when I was a kid, I thought the implication of that line was that the word “seldom” was discouraging. I was so embarrassed when I finally figured it out!

Lately I have been thinking about encouraging words, as opposed to the discouraging kind, whether “seldom” or not. I think that for many of us, encouraging words come all too seldom. I became convicted about this as a college student. There were so many people in my life who had had such a tremendous positive impact, and I had never thanked them or told them how much they meant to me. Two of them had already died—my childhood mentor, Miss Mary Poole, and my dear friend Jill—and I still live with the guilt of not telling them how much they meant to me until it was too late.

I know that many of us, myself included, go around with grateful feelings toward someone (or many someones) and yet we don’t think of telling them so. Or we keep waiting for the “right” time to say something. Or we lose our nerve. But, during my college years, I felt the time had come to act on my convictions so I wrote a letter to my grade school headmaster to tell him how much it had meant to me when he stopped a boy from bullying me in fourth grade. That letter led to an ongoing correspondence that I found both heartwarming and rewarding.

I wrote other letters during that time to thank people who had meant a lot to me over the years. Twice I wrote to a former teacher of mine who had made a world of difference to me. She had taken me under her wing during the darkest days of my life up to that point. She had been a friend to me when I desperately needed a friend. She even gave me a job. Then, the following year she refused to have anything to do with me. It was as if I had deeply offended her—but she never said so and I had no idea what on earth I had done.  I was very hurt by her rejection, but eventually I came to realize that it made no difference in terms of my gratitude toward her. She had helped me when I needed help, and I wanted her to know how deeply grateful I was. So I wrote and told her so—twice. She never answered. That’s okay. I hope that somehow my letters were still a blessing to her.

The reason I have been thinking about this is that during that weekend in Tennessee my mom had some old papers for us to look at, and one of the ones she had for me was an essay I wrote praising my grade school headmaster. That made me remember the correspondence we eventually had, which continued until he was too sick to write. I’m so glad I took the initiative to contact him.

When I returned home from Tennessee, there was a stack of mail waiting for me. Most of it was junk mail or bills. There was, however, one piece of personal mail: a letter in a lovely handmade envelope. It was from one of my former students. I had no idea why she might have written me. Usually when I hear from a former student it is because they need me to write a letter of reference, which I am always very happy to do.

This letter was different. It was a thank you letter, similar to some that I have written over the years. Basically, what this young lady said so eloquently was that during a time when she needed encouragement, I encouraged her. Yes, I cried when I read it. This letter has already become one of my most prized possessions.

What makes this experience especially notable for me is that at the time this student was coming to classes in my home, I had no sense that I was having any particular influence on her. I try to be an encouragement to everyone who comes to my home; most especially to young people because I love them so very much. Having been on the receiving end of so much kindness throughout my life, I have learned that often those who have had the greatest influence on me don’t remember the incident at all when I later thank them for it.

You know what that means? It means that they are so habitually kind and encouraging that one specific act of kindness doesn’t stand out. When you are always kind and encouraging, you simply can’t remember all the little things you have said and done that might have meant the world to someone else. I hope to someday reach that standard. I hope to be able to rise above petty annoyance and envy and just show God’s love to everyone I meet. I’m not even close—but letters like the one I received give me hope that I might at least be struggling in the right direction. The thing I love most about being an encourager, I think, is that it doesn’t cost anything. Well, unless you object to giving up a negative attitude! I love to look for ways that I can encourage the people I care about. It’s kind of interesting to me that whenever I have taken a “spiritual gifts” test, my primary gift comes up as “discernment.” Maybe it helps to have that if you are going to be an encourager. I have always thought of myself as primarily an encourager!

So what can you take away from all this? Whatever you like. If you have been on the receiving end of kindness, have you acknowledged it? Your thanks, however they are expressed, will almost certainly bless the recipient. I feel newly resolved to encourage others and to treat them with kindness, because I may never know when a few words from me could make a positive difference for someone else. .

Today, I tried to convey some of this to the six young ladies who came for my letter-writing workshop.

Sure, I told them how to write thank-you notes and notes of congratulation, sympathy, and so forth. But I hope I also inspired them to see letter-writing as a ministry of sorts—a way to encourage others.

It was a good day. My students arrived at 9:00 and we got down to business.  Despite the fact that not all the girls had come by their own choice, they all cooperated and worked hard at writing sample after sample of different kinds of letters. We had a morning break, a lunch break, and an afternoon break. We finished up the afternoon by learning to do the Mennonite letter fold and making envelopes. The envelope making was popular! I am still spreading the joy . . .

When the girls left, they all seemed pretty enthusiastic about writing notes and letters. I hope they keep it up!

Writing About Writing

Today felt strangely free of pressure at first. I went out this morning and took Spencer to McDonald’s to pick up a job application. After dropping him off, I kept going to Office Depot where I stocked up on printer cartridges and paper and a few other things I expect to need for my classes this summer. The price was daunting, but I knew in advance that I’d need to spend a good chunk of my earnings on supplies.

I spent most of the afternoon revising my letter-writing materials, since my student did not show up. It has been a few years since I last taught this workshop, and I found that I could really improve upon what I had used in the past. I am greatly looking forward to teaching this oft-neglected subject on Thursday. I will probably keep going over the materials and trying to make them better till the last possible moment!

Since Mary’s plans have changed a little, and her car is still here, I was able to go to my writers’ meeting this month after all. I’m so glad I did, too, because our speaker was excellent and she introduced us all to a couple of resources we had never heard of. As far as I know, tonight was my last meeting, though. I will miss that group greatly.