Criticism

I was blessed to grow up in a home where criticism was not part of our vernacular. We simply did not criticize. Or complain. Not even when it was "merited". How my parents achieved that, I do not know!

I became a quick learner, though, let me assure you. On my own, I managed to master the art, even falling prey to the idea that criticism was "helpful" to others. How would they ever change their ways, I reasoned, unless I told them where they were wrong? This "skill" grows exponentially when practiced even a bit, I soon learned. The more I criticized, the more things I saw that "needed" criticizing. Once put into motion, criticism can quickly become a way of life, a lens through which all persons and activities are filtered.

A lens which turns toxic. Towards those on the receiving end. But also on the viewer. A critical spirit is difficult to live with as well as to house inside one's own soul.

One day I stumbled on a verse. James 4:11. Pretty simple. It says Do not speak against another.

We can try and "adjust" it to say something else but it translates very clearly -- do not criticize. The verse doesn't have parentheses to include exceptions for poor service or irritating people or trampled rights. It just says not to criticize. I decided I needed to change. It's hard going sometimes but by God's grace, I am learning not to criticize. It's hard to balance times of needed parental correction against criticism. I am constantly in need of wisdom.

Sometimes these blog posts are hard to write. I often falter. I don't get it right. A lot. But I want to share my journey with you. In hopes that you will find some grace and encouragement alongside me.

Take, for instance, today.

I received some really awful customer service today. And with my past corporate background, I am tuned in to know that customer service is an important aspect of training and expectations. When I don't get it, I am disappointed. Today, I was disappointed and then some. After all, I had been a loyal customer of this business for many years. I had given this place a bunch of money. And I was treated poorly by an employee that clearly didn't give a rip. I was tempted to post something on FB just to vent. So that other people could take my side, weigh in, maybe even share their own lousy experiences at this place. Then I decided I'd do the more mature thing and complain to the home office. In fact, I concluded, it was the right thing to do. After all, this place had their website posted and invited customers to contact them so they could provide better service. Yep, I would be doing them a favor.

I pulled up their site, clicked on "customer service" and started my email. I would be polite, but firm. Just state the facts. And convey the error of their ways. My words poured out.

Then that verse above came to mind. And one in the next chapter of James - vs. 9 Do not complain, brethren, against one another.

I chatted with myself for a couple of minutes. Wouldn't it be helpful to let the higher ups know what a terrible experience I had today? I had already realized it wouldn't be right to vent on FB, where readers were neither part of the problem nor part of the solution but couldn't I at least complain to, I mean, share with, the home office? This would be helpful..........I was justified......It's the truth......

Heart check. What did I want as resolution? Did I really want this to help those employees to become better people? Or did I hope, even just a little bit, that somebody would get in hot water for what they did? Did I even hope that I would benefit in some way, a discount or freebie or even just an accolade?

I am not saying there is never a time to report bad service. Or to share an unfortunate experience. I do suggest a heart check first. And a prayer for wisdom. And a longing to err on the side of being TOO UNcritical and UNcomplaining.

I didn't send the email.

And I won't tell you who the company was. :)



Pleasing God



Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God. Hebrews 13:15


Such a simple precept - doing good, sharing what we have. But sometimes we neglect it, don't we? The word for today is to consider what you have in terms of time, skills, material goods, money. Just think about it for a moment. Take inventory, so to speak. Don't let yourself be deceived into thinking you don't have much - if you are reading this, then you obviously have enough time and skill and material goods to share. (You're welcome!) Maybe you have enough time to make a phone call of encouragement. Maybe you have enough skill to bake a cake or sew some window treatments or mow a lawn for someone. Maybe you have enough material goods that you could donate some furniture to The Sparrow's Nest or medicine to Mercy Health Center or money to a mission trip. Maybe you have enough of all three.... Then let's ask God what we can share. How. With whom. Begin with surplus....then move to sacrifice. This please Him.


I'll just say that I think I have enough surplus of material goods that it'll take a while to get to the "sacrifice" level. How about you?



















Standing Up

My dad had the sweetest habit. He was such a gentleman that, even at 86 years of age, he would stand when a woman entered the room. It was positively charming. I remember vividly when a friend of mine dropped by to see me and popped into my folk's apartment to say hello to them. Even though he was sick with cancer, my dad stood up to greet her and remained standing, struggling a bit, until she left.


Not just this once. He would do this every single time. It was absolutely adorable. Melted my heart every time.

Now my dad wasn't a "blue blood". He never went to "finishing school" to learn etiquette. I suppose most all his generation knew how to treat people from watching their elders. And those lessons stuck. He opened doors for women, spoke respectfully to others, and, yes, stood when he was introduced to someone, especially a female.


I was touched by that every single time. What a show of kindness. Of respect. Of affirmation.
It makes the other person feel so valued. What a gift!


One of my most cherished memories is that of coming home, after having left home, if you know what I mean. College days. Marriage. Family of my own. Coming home - where Mama and Daddy lived before they moved in with me. I'd pull into our long driveway and hit the horn a couple of times. I could see my Daddy in his chair by the window, and by the time I'd parked the car, he would have gotten up and come out to my car with his arms open wide. Welcome home. Welcome home. What a feeling of love, expressed in my Dad's simple gesture of getting out of his chair to greet me. To embrace me. To welcome me home. Every time.


I thought about my Daddy the other day at church. We were reading in Acts about Stephen, who was martyred for his faith. As he was dying, he gazed intently into Heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus, standing at the right hand of God (Acts 7:55).


Now, we know from Ephesians 1:19-21 that Jesus's usual position is sitting down -


and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might 20 that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, 21 far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come


But when Stephen was dying, when he was coming home, Jesus stood to greet him. What an expression of love and affirmation and joy. Welcome home!


One day, I'm going to pull into Heaven's golden driveway. And I believe my King Jesus will be standing there, arms open wide, to welcome me home. Now, I don't know if Jesus gets out of His seat for every saint's homecoming - maybe it's just for martyrs like Stephen. To think that the King of Kings would rise as I enter is more than I can imagine. But sitting or standing, it won't matter - I will fall on my face before Him and worship. To see Him face to face. To think that the Creator of the Universe will have been longing for me to come home - I cannot imagine. Oh what a glorious day that will be!


My Daddy has beaten me there. I know he will be there to welcome me. Maybe he'll be seated at a window, just watching for me to come. And I just bet he'll get up to greet me. And after I've been with my sweet Savior, there'll be another pair of arms I'll want to fall into. Another voice I'll want to hear saying Welcome home. Welcome HOME.