Marbles and Jokers is one of our favorite games.  Dave and I were introduced to it a few years ago and immediately became fans.  Since that time, most of the couples whom we taught to play have ordered the game for themselves and for their adult children.

Months ago, we had two couples over for dinner and taught them the game.  The following morning, one pair ordered the game for themselves.  We play marathon M&J every chance we can.

Today, while talking to my friend, Lael, a fellow M&J player, I shared with her that wonderful things seem to happen over dinner and that game.  She asked how many people had bought the game because of us.  I said about 30.  But then she asked me a question that made me realize the opportunity I was missing.

“Can you imagine sharing Jesus with 30 people over the course of the last few years?”  Granted, most of the people who have played this game with us are Christians, but some aren’t, and even though they know where we stand, why haven’t I been as determined to tell them about Heaven as I have been about teaching them a competitive game? Too, could Marbles and Jokers be the tool I use to do so?  Why do I make witnessing so difficult?

Finding the way to Christ is simple, and the “Romans Road”—seven scriptures in the Book of Romans—is a great path to get there.

3:10—There is no righteous person.

3:23—Everyone sins and comes short of the glory of God.

5:12—Sin (and death) entered the world through Adam’s sin; that death was passed to all of us.

6:23—Sin leads to death, but God gives the gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ.

5:8—God covered our sins by his son, Jesus’, death.

10:13— Whoever calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.

10:9-10 (NLT) “If you openly declare that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”

And yes, I understand that, unless the Holy Spirit inspires me, I would not share those seven scriptures with a non-believer I had invited over to play a game (not even if they were winning and I wanted them to go home).

There are simpler ways to witness. Our example, for…well, example.  This school year, I have had many opportunities to pray for faculty and students.  Sometimes, it is as simple as hearing their problems and asking how I can pray for them.  Other times, I drop them a note to tell them what a blessing they are to me or simply to encourage them, reminding them that God hears our prayers.

I have had deep conversations with students who were wounded by their parents, reminding them that we all are sinners and that God grieves when He sees parental figures abusing their children.  I have apologized to an entire class when I showed anger instead of doling out fair consequences, telling them that as a Christian, I failed to show mercy.

Lael’s question made me realize that I was missing an incredible opportunity.  After all, losing a game is nothing compared to losing our eternal lives.

Have you ever been called to “love the unlovely”?  You know, like Jesus did.  I recently realized how hard that really is…not because I can’t love the unlovely but because sometimes they don’t love me.  People I know have been disappointed in me, and my Christian character has been ridiculed.  Compared to how I felt when a dear friend said that I didn’t mask my double-chin well when I delivered my Tedx Talk or how another addressed my unflattering outfit or when someone shared that I overdid my makeup at my book signing, and I bet you know which hurt worse.

Yep, when my Christian character was maligned.

I want desperately to please God.  I do.  I want people to see in me a joy, a peace, a freedom, so infectious that they ask my secret.  That doesn’t always happen.

Today was the exception.  A sweet, young waitress told me that I make a difference in her life, that every time she waits on me, she feels that she has someone in her corner.  Her grandparents and father are deceased, and her mother is an addict.  She, a divorcee, has young children and struggles being a good mother, but, she said, she believes that I care.  She is right.  From the first time she waited on me, I knew there was something in her I admired.

She is lovely, personable, hard-working and determined to give her children a better life.  She asked if we could exchange phone numbers.  Of course we could, and we did.  She explained that she wants to leave her present job and move into something more fulfilling, something that would provide better for her kids.  I assured her that I would try and make that happen.

Then she said something I did not expect.  “I am pregnant.”  She spoke about how amazing the father is, how he treats her well, but how she knows things now are more complicated in her hunt for a new job.  I couldn’t help but think, “Would Jesus call this complicated?”  Absolutely not.  He loved everyone, even those who think they disappoint. No story reflected that better than when Jesus met the Samaritan woman at the well.

According to John 4:1-42, she, the lowest of the low, an unmarried female of a race despised by Jews, meets Jesus on his way to Galilee.  His disciples are in town buying food when Jesus asks this woman, coming to draw water from the well, for a drink. In that era, women drew water in groups in the morning, but this outcast drew water alone midday.

The Samaritan woman questions how this man can ask her, a woman, for a drink.  Jesus’ responses confound her as he explains that he offers “living water,” the kind that leads to eternal life, to everyone. The dialogue continues until Jesus switches gears and reveals that she has been married five times and is not married to her current affair.  Still, he offers her a chance. She then gets it: she who has disappointed for as long as she can remember is talking to the Messiah.  And he’s not disappointed.

When this woman believed, she immediately ran off to tell others. Her words made an impact. As Scripture tells us, “Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony.”

Loving the unlovely is Jesus’ way.  My job is to love those who don’t love me, those who judge me or criticize me, to see them as Jesus does, so they can know him too.

Along the way, I hope I don’t disappoint.

Thirty years ago, I was not frazzled easily. Perhaps because I had survived the ordeal of raising three A.D.D. sons without any criminal repercussions. Perhaps because I had learned to relax as a teacher and enjoy my students, or perhaps because I was finally figuring out the difference between religion and a relationship with Christ. What I deal with now is nothing compared to those challenges, so I have no idea why at this age I get frazzled so easily. Still, the list of things that frustrate me is endless. For example:

• Delayed Amazon deliveries
• A slow internet speed
• Passwords and QR codes
• Fast-food restaurants that use kiosks
• Pinterest ideas that appear impossible to mess up…until I try them
• Stop lights that stay red when no one is coming from the opposite direction

The list above includes modern inventions that are intended to make our lives easier, yet when they fail to do so, I become frustrated instead of being thankful for the times they do work. Why is that? In Luke 17:11-17, we read of 10 outcast lepers who were healed by Jesus. Lepers were no small deal (like my list above). They were considered permanently unclean, so they could not worship in the temple. They could not hang with their families and were cut off from society. They would gladly have changed places with me, complaining about such trivial things as my list above. Jesus curing them was no minor miracle.

Still, only one leper thanked him, and in no insignificant way. That leper fell at Jesus’ feet and loudly praised him for this miracle. Jesus questioned why the other nine just went on their merry way while only this one stayed behind to show gratitude. “Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? Has no one returned to give praise to God except this foreigner?” Questions asked in Luke 17:17,18. Being thankful was important to Jesus.

Typically, I love thanking people and look for ways to do so. Still, I need to do a better job of thanking God. Take this morning, for example. I had countless reasons for which to be grateful: life itself; opportunities to pray; a phone call from one of our children; a car that started; great friends; inspirational, Christian Instagram posts; Kleenex (allergies); and short lines at the post office. The list was endless, but only now, while writing this, am I thanking God.

In the Bible, the word “thanks” or “Thanksgiving” appears over 100 times, and no season reminds me of the need to show gratitude more than Easter. Without the Resurrection, we would be hopeless. The Bible would be just another history book, Christianity would be pointless, and none of us would have a chance to spend eternity with Jesus.

The next time I’m frustrated because my internet is weak or my Pinterest macaroons look more like a blackened pizza crust or I spend 15 minutes pushing the wrong buttons, trying to order an Egg McMuffin, I need to remember what’s truly important. Actually, I need to remember Who is the most important…and maybe fall at His feet when I do.

That’s what Easter is all about.

“The amount of good things in your life depends on your ability to notice them.” Anonymous

In the theater classes I teach, we are working on a new Improvisational Acting activity. The students line up across the front of the room, and starting with Student #1, he/she starts a sentence with “Fortunately.” “Fortunately, I passed Calculus.” “Fortunately, I just bought my first car.” “Fortunately, I’m not grounded this week.” Whatever comes to mind.

Then the next student starts a sentence with “Unfortunately” and must choose a sentence that counters whatever Student #1 has said. “Unfortunately, passing that one test did not bring my grade to passing.” “Unfortunately, the engine caught fire the first day I drove it.” “Unfortunately, I’m only ungrounded to babysit my little brother and sister.”

Student #3 must add to the story, this time with a “Fortunately.” On it goes until we go through the line a couple of times.

There are two reasons I chose this activity: (1) It teaches students Improvisational skills like keeping dialogue going and thinking on their feet, and (2) They are forced to consider both sides, especially the positive one (which seems more difficult for them).

This started when I began noticing far too much negative thinking as my students answered a Roll Call question. Last Tuesday was a perfect example. “What is the best thing about living in America?” was the question (a far different one from the usual, “What’s your favorite dessert?”). Most students couldn’t think of anything, and those who did, answered with, “Well, it certainly isn’t the government” or “Maybe chocolate?” or “Absolutely nothing.”

I took a few seconds to respond. “Nothing? I’m confused. You are sitting in a desk, getting an education paid for by other people. Did any of you sleep in a cardboard box in an alleyway last night? None of you are starving, and if you are, you know where to find snacks in my desk drawer. Clearly, you all have clothes on. You girls will be allowed to drive and get a job, choose your own husband and speak your mind. You all can protest peacefully if you want something changed, and you say, “Absolutely nothing?”

No one responded.

Since Covid, there has been an increasing sense of hopelessness and negativity. Even my students who attend a weekly church group exhibit a pessimism I did not see when I taught 13 years ago. I have to remind them to say “thank you” when I hand them a pencil or a brownie, and if I don’t, I wait for one of them to thank me and then announce to the whole class, “Thank you, “Roni,” for saying thank you.

In the Old Testament, we read that Jeremiah, the “weeping prophet,” watched as his nation, Israel, deteriorated. They were captured, the city of Jerusalem was destroyed, and he felt hopeless. Sometimes, I feel like weeping over the state of our country, and especially the mess we are handing off to our children and grandchildren. I remind myself that God has a plan. In spite of our sinful nature, He offers us a way out. And do we deserve it?

Absolutely not. If there is anything we need to notice, that truth alone should negate our pessimism.

Scripture tells me not to be angry. But I am. It’s spring break, Dave and I spent two days driving to Nevada (the state) to visit our grandkids and great grandkids, and I have spent much of my day, trying to contact Walmart here in Henderson, Nevada, to ask what time tomorrow I am to bring my vehicle in to have my tires checked. Twelve calls with no response. For the first five or six, I was fine. But now? I am upset.

This morning, I pulled up to the Automotive area at Walmart. Three bays were empty, and four employees were standing/sitting, doing nothing. A female employee turned me over to a male employee who announced that it was his time for a break. “Not until you service this woman,” she responded. Although pleasant, the young man was not happy. He checked my tires and said that nothing was wrong, but when I told him that one tire continues to go flat, he said that I would need to set up an appointment.

“What about now?” I asked (since there were no other vehicles being serviced). He said that they were full (i.e., it was time for his break) but set up an appointment tomorrow. He would send me the time via text. Which he did not do.

Twelve calls later (“Dial two for the automotive department”) to find out what time I am supposed to show up, my frustration is increasing. No one answers the phone, and when I call Walmart’s customer service representative, she tells me that there is nothing she can do except forward my call to the auto service area…the same area I have called twelve (now 13) times. I tell her that and she gives me a choice: “Either I forward your call, or I hang up.”

Each call to the automotive department is answered by a robot who says that they are “experiencing unusually high volumes of calls at this moment.” This does not happen in Fort Scott. There, someone answers the phone. I am used to Fort Scott. Am I asking too much?

As much as I hate to admit it, I need an attitude check. I find it much easier to say “If only…” “If only Walmart could get its act together.” “If only that customer service agent wasn’t so abrasive and actually showed a little compassion” (you know, what I did not show her).

For all I know, she was trying to keep food on her table for her five kids after her husband left her for another woman. Maybe she was working two jobs to help pay the medical bills for her ailing father. Possibly she had been yelled at by ten other customers, trying to contact the automotive department. Did I show her compassion? Tell her that I would pray for her? Even ask if she was okay?

We all know the answer to that. Actually, had I told her that I was a Christian, she probably would have started laughing. I demonstrated none of the qualities (fruits of the spirit) we are told to exhibit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Galations 5:22-23 NIV).

Yesterday evening, I received the text with the time of my appointment. By then, I had decided to go elsewhere for my service and tried to text back to cancel. A large “X” appeared on my screen. Under it were these words: “Sorry…We’re having technical issues, but we’ll be back in a flash. Try again.”

This time, I had to laugh. Clearly an improvement. I think that Jesus would be proud.

A foolproof way to find out if you are a true, authentic friend is if you are thrilled when others have success.  No matter what happens to you.  No matter if they got the promotion you wanted, they got the book deal you prayed for, they were healed and you were not, they have perfect kids and yours spend more time in detention than in the classroom. No matter what!

This, of course, works both ways.  You will know if your friends are authentic if they celebrate your accomplishments when they themselves are struggling.  I have some friends who meet that description, but I wonder if I don’t have “a little” work to do in this area.

In Genesis 4, we read that Adam and Eve had two sons, Cain and Abel.  Now Abel kept flocks, and Cain worked the soil.  In the course of time Cain brought some of the fruits of the soil as an offering to the Lord.  And Abel also brought an offering—fat portions from some of the firstborn of his flock. The Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering, but on Cain and his offering he did not look with favor. So Cain was very angry, and his face was downcast. 

Many of my Christian author friends admit they struggle with envy when they cannot manage to carve out time to write their second or third book, yet their fellow authors post about their 40^th book going to print or how a respected publishing company has offered them a huge endorsement. We (yes, I fall into that category) understand Cain’s frustration.

Frustrations over God’s generosity towards others aren’t a new concept. In fact, the idea that we are entitled to God’s blessings coupled with our irritation over God’s generosity to others is at the heart of the first recorded murder in Scripture. Big brother Cain is one unhappy camper when little bro Abel got the “atta boy” from God and he didn’t.

God does not comfort Cain.  He lets him know that if he does what’s right, he also will experience God’s favor.  Cain has a choice.  He can accept God’s sovereignty—even though he might not agree with it—or he can allow his jealousy and pride to rob him of what little peace he has.  We all know which he chose, ultimately ending with him murdering Abel.

Granted, no one I know—including me—has ever murdered because another author’s book received more accolades.  God does not suffer from limited generosity.  He blesses as He sees fit, meaning He blesses me in different ways than He does my friends.  Who am I to think that I deserve a blessing He has not given me?  God is limitless in His ability to love, show grace and mercy, and bless.  I should do likewise.

So, if you find yourself disappointed when others are the benefactors of something that you had hoped for, maybe even prayed for, God understands your feelings.  Nevertheless, like Cain, we have a choice to trust in God’s decisions to bless others (and be happy for them), or we can allow sin to take root and be consumed with a bitter heart.

I know which kind of friend I want to be.

Within a split second, I could have become a statistic when I came close to being run over by a speeding car. Dave and I were biking on a two-lane street, and the only reason I wasn’t turned into road-kill was that the female driver swerved into the far lane.  The only reason she wasn’t killed was that no one was in that lane.

It was my fault.  I pulled out of a side street, and instead of making a sharp right turn to stay on the edge of the road, I pedaled out too far in the direction of the car.  You know, the car with the driver with the right-of-way. The driver who fortunately was not texting or applying lipstick or smacking her kids in the back seat. The driver who was alert and paying attention.  Unlike me.

Dave was supportive.

“What in the world were you thinking?”

“Obviously I wasn’t.”

“Why didn’t you use your brakes?”

“Because I panicked.”

“Obviously.”

Sometimes, being alert is hard.  I’ve left my credit card, my favorite jacket, and even my kids when I failed to take care of what was important. But there is a day coming when staying alert will determine where we spend eternity, which, in my case, could have come from not paying attention while riding my bike.

In 2 Timothy 3:1-5 (NIV) we are warned.  “But mark this: There will be terrible times in the last days. People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God— having a form of godliness but denying its power. Have nothing to do with such people.”

Noah’s neighbors certainly were not alert when God warned that the flood was coming.  Only eight people believed and were saved. Lot warned his family that the city was about to be destroyed, but they did not listen.  Starting in Genesis, all the way through Revelation, we are bombarded with stories of individuals with their heads in the figurative sand.  Perhaps that description is fitting for us as well.

Hebrews 2:1 does not mince words. “Therefore, we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.” Jesus voiced the same priority: “Pay careful attention to how you listen” (Luke 8:18). Careful listening (staying alert) is the first step to faithful living.  It’s the difference between listening to a Bible app while also posting family pics on our Facebook account and giving God undivided attention to what He says.

Matthew 24 reminds us that being alert is critical. He warns his followers to remain steadfast and not be led astray by false teachings or distractions from the world. The command to “be ready” is not merely about anticipating His return but also about living a life that reflects His teachings and values—loving others, seeking justice, and maintaining a personal relationship with God.

“So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.” Jesus emphasized that His return—for us—will be sudden and unexpected. This calls for believers to cultivate a lifestyle of preparedness.

You know, exactly what I did not do on that bike ride.

When Montana, my granddaughter, called to say that she and her fiancé, Ian, had set their wedding date, I was excited to put it on my calendar.  “February 3, 2026,” she announced.  Surely my calendar was wrong…or Montana was mistaken.

“Mo, that’s a Tuesday.”

“I know,” she declared, excitedly.

“Is this a destination wedding?” I questioned.

“No, Grandma, we’re getting married in Fort Scott…at my parent’s house.”

“Well then, where will the reception be?” I pressed.  Mo had it all figured out.  “It will be an outdoor wedding, and the reception will be inside their house.”  This was not my business to question.  Still, I questioned. “Mo, do you know what Kansas weather is like in February, not to mention, Tuesdays are in the middle of the week?”

“I know.”

“Then why did you choose that day?”

“Because God gave me that date.”

There was only one thing I could say: “Well, then, February 3 it is.”  As I later found out, that date, years before, had been one in which Mo made a heart-change to follow the Lord and trust that His ways are far higher than ours could ever be.  The wedding was a testimony to that.

Mo and Ian chose several “unusual” things for their big day (like a Ding-Dong wedding cake and a stadium hot-dog bar), not the least of which was to have actual church pews for the guests.  I mean, it’s not like church pews are available at Walmart, and no church that I know of would be amenable to loaning theirs out for an outdoor wedding.  Especially a February wedding.  But that’s where God did what only God can do.

As it turned out, someone had donated dozens of antique, wooden church pews to the nuns who live in Fort Scott.  The pews were in a semi-truck, waiting for volunteers to sand and stain them.  And that’s where Mo’s family and friends offered to help.  Weeks of work went into preparing the pews for the wedding ceremony, definitely a blessing to Mo and Ian, but God had plans much grander than the February 3 event.

The week before the wedding, the snow, wind and freezing temperatures caused schools and businesses to close. If this weather continued, how would we survive an outdoor wedding?  I envisioned wedding photos with icicles hanging from our nose hairs and updo’s ruined by earmuffs.  How could antique, wooden church pews endure freezing rain?

And then came Tuesday.  Bright, sunny skies.  Temperature in the mid-40’s.  No wind.

But the bigger blessing came after the wedding when volunteers from the Catholic Church delivered the slightly-used pews to the nuns who now would have beautiful, refinished pews for a lifetime.  It should come as no surprise that the One who orchestrates things like temperatures can turn a blessing for an hour into a blessing for a lifetime.  What a God we serve!

“For better or worse…”  The beaming bride and groom mimic the pastor’s words, vowing that no matter what happens, they are in this marriage thing until they drop. But what happens when, to their surprise, the spouse turns out not to be the kind, gentle, admiring soul he/she pretends to be?  What happens when that person is a narcissist?

Mayo Clinic defines the disease well: “a mental condition in which people have an inflated sense of their own importance, a deep need for excessive attention and admiration, troubled relationships, and a lack of empathy for others. But behind this mask of extreme confidence lies a fragile self-esteem that’s vulnerable to the slightest criticism.”

Sounds like the “worse” part of the marital contract to me.

Mayo continues. “People with a narcissistic personality disorder may be generally unhappy and disappointed when they’re not given the special favors they believe they deserve.” Most narcissists wear one personality in public, another in private.

They are jealous, master manipulators.  The “love-bombing” they demonstrated when dating looks nothing like the actual mental illness they now demonstrate.

The Zoom Bible study I am in is reading Dr. Henry Cloud’s book, Why I Believe.  The renowned psychologist writes about a flight he was on in which he sat next to a young woman who asked what he did for a living.  When he told her, she shared the saga of her umpteenth breakup with her boyfriend, saying that his anger issues came between them as he repeatedly controlled/manipulated her when she behaved in a way he disapproved.

She explained.  “I can calm him down by agreeing with him, but I can’t always just give in.  I feel like I am losing myself.  So, we break up and then I go back.”  Cloud then replied, “There is an old saying: ‘If you rescue an angry man, you will only have to do it again.’”  She asked where he heard that quote.  “The Bible,” he answered.  “Proverbs 19:19. You should read it sometime.  There is good stuff in there.”

“I never knew that was in the Bible!” she said.

Cloud replied, “Yeah,” I know, I didn’t either, until I started to really read it.”  The author addresses narcissism in his book and shares that he finds the most effective psychology rooted in Scripture.  “Boundaries and limits to destructive behavior are taught throughout the Bible, and regaining control for oneself is a chief tenet.”

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to this topic, narcissism, and I wonder if we all don’t have a little of this disease in us. We sort of like things to go our way, don’t we?  At least I do, like when instead of marriage being a walk in the park, it’s more like a 100-mile marathon in 100-degree weather in the hills of Arkansas. Instead of looking at our disagreement from Dave’s perspective, my vision is blinded by my wants, my desires.

I am grateful that for almost 53 years, we have weathered those marathons and have learned to work to seek good in each other.  For Dave, that’s easy.  (Riiiight!)

So, what’s a victim to do?  Pray.  A lot.  Especially before they take those vows.

Several months ago, I wrote about my friend who was having a double mastectomy. Her surgery was complicated because she had zero body fat needed to reconstruct her breasts. When I told Dave, his response did not surprise me. “Did you tell her that you—I mean we—could donate some of ours?” After sharing that with my friend, we both cracked up (she more than I).

My friend is now home from the hospital. We spoke yesterday. The evening before, it hit her: part of her womanhood was permanently gone. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she teared up but then felt a nudge to turn on her television. There was Nick Vujicic, the evangelist born with no legs or arms, speaking about how God had used his disability to give people encouragement. She knew that God had offered her that nudging so she would refuse to feel sorry for herself.

The pity pot can be such a cushy place to stay, can’t it? When life is all about me, it can become my frequent resting spot. But what would life look like if I chose, instead, to find my comfort in Jesus’ loving arms? I would no longer dwell on how my troubles seem to outweigh God’s ability to make things better and would focus on Romans 8:28 which reminds us that all things work together for good “for those that love the Lord” and are called according to His purpose.

“For those that love the Lord.” What does that kind of love entail?

The Bible gives us a great example of Joseph who, though experiencing serious injustices, loved the Lord and refused to live with a victim mentality. Genesis 37:12-28 tells us that his jealous brothers threw him into a pit and then sold him to Egyptian slave traders who sold him to Potiphar, Pharoah’s captain of the guard.

Potiphar favored Joseph and put him in charge of his household…until, that is, Potiphar’s wife falsely accused Joseph of assaulting her and he was thrown in prison. Once released (over a decade later), Pharoah put Joseph in charge of the whole land of Egypt. From the pit to the palace.

You see, Joseph never suffered from self-pity. He always trusted that God would make something good out of something bad, and he was right. God wants to do the same for us. We never should get comfortable on the pity pot, an oppressive trap of the enemy. Matthew 5:14-16 tells us why. You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.

Staying on the pity pot will keep us immobile. Joyless. Stuck on our wants. Unable to forgive and move on. Bitter. Selfish. And in a very, very dark place. If we want our light seen by others, we, like Joseph, must decide where it can shine best.

Loose Lips Sink Ships

Let’s face it.  We love to be heard, to have others want to listen to what we have to share.  The spotlight on us, all ears attentive.  And even though we have been entrusted with a “secret” that no one else knows, even though we have been told not to share, we can’t help it.  Well, we can…but we don’t.  After all, we have the spotlight.  We can be heard.

There are a few places in Scripture where an individual is told to keep silent but doesn’t.  Not a big deal…except of course, it is.  This morning, while reading in the gospel of Mark, I read that a leper begged Jesus to heal him.  Jesus, “moved with compassion,” cleansed the outcast.  In 1:43, Jesus “strictly” warns the leper not to tell anyone.  He is to go to the priest and follow the protocol for a healed leper.  And. Not. Talk.

I get why the healed man couldn’t keep his mouth shut.  I mean, it’s not like people aren’t going to see the difference.  One day, you’re covered in sores.  The next, you’ve just been given the $7000 HD Diamond and Ruby Peel facial.  (Think baby’s skin.)  When people ask, the leper can’t pretend that he doesn’t notice that he no longer has sores covering his body.  He has to be ecstatic, for he has been given a new life.

Did Jesus really expect him to lie about the miraculous healing and act like he had no idea how his body had changed?  Couldn’t he just tell his BFF or his family?  And trust them to keep his secret?

Uh, nope.  This quote proves it: “If you want to keep a secret, tell no one.”  Get that?  Not even your pinky-promise friend because your gut is churning to share something that nobody else knows.

Have you ever noticed how all attention turns towards you when you start a conversation with this: “You wouldn’t believe what I just heard!”  Does anyone speak to your sin and respond with, “If this is something negative about someone, I don’t want to hear it,” or “Is this something we need to know?” or “Are you positive that what you are sharing is the truth and needs to be told?”  Probably not.  More than likely, all ears turn your direction, eager to hear the juicy gossip you are ever-so-willing to divulge.                                                                                                                                                                Why are we so eager to share?  According to Behavioral Scientist Jessica Salerno’s research in “Morality, Punishment, and Revealing Other People’s Secrets,” …people keep their own immoral secrets to avoid being punished but are motivated to reveal others’ secrets to punish them for immoral acts.” Hypocrisy at its finest!

Scripture refers to our tongues as “a restless evil.”  Get that?  Our tongues are sins on steroids! John Gotti once said this: “Don’t ever say anything you don’t want played back to you someday.”  Smart advice.

“Loose lips sink ships” is a slogan coined in World War II by the War Advertising Council and was part of a larger propaganda campaign warning that careless talk might be overheard by enemy spies and could undermine the war effort. The imagery stirred guilt by implying that openly discussing sensitive matters could have disastrous consequences.

The next time we consider loosing our lips to share some information with which we have been entrusted not to share, perhaps the psalmist’s prayer should be our own: “Set a guard over my mouth, Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips” (Psalm 141:3).

Have you ever looked at your manger scene, placed prominently for everyone who enters your home, and wondered why your life seems like a mess compared to the peace presented by the creche?  Mary, prayerfully kneeling before her newborn baby.  Joseph standing nearby, pondering how God would use this infant to accomplish His purposes.  Shepherds, dirty and overlooked, who were invited by angels into a scene they could not understand.  Magi, men who (we pretend) were there after this God-birth happened. And baby Jesus himself, tucked into the straw of a dirty manger.

Luke 2 tells us that after the birth of Jesus, a host of angels appeared to the straggly shepherds and told them to travel to Bethlehem.  At first terrified, the shepherds soon put away their fears and hurried to view this newborn. Estimates are they traveled between two and six miles, all at night. After their encounter with the Messiah, they “spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child.”  All who heard the shepherds’ report were “amazed” by this report (not amazed like we are when our daughter makes cheerleader or when the stock market takes an up-turn).  The Greed word used here for “amazed” is “thaumazo”; it means stopped in their tracks.

There they were, looking at God in human form, the One who was the answer to all the scriptures they had learned.  One minute, caring for helpless, stupid sheep, and the next…looking at perfection.  Heaven had come to the hillside in the middle of the night, proving that God’s presence isn’t limited to Holy places or to Holy people.  God had not chosen kings or Levitical priests or religious Pharisees to announce His coming in human form.  He chose a group of men who had no credentials.  No surprises there.  After all, He delights in using ordinary people for extraordinary purposes.

What does surprise me is what the shepherds did after this miraculous encounter.  Unlike many of us, they did not go on a speaking circuit or write a book or sit at the gate to their city, signing autographs.  Scripture says that they returned to their sheep.  They went back to herding and protecting animals that follow each other off cliffs.  They returned with gladdened, worshipful hearts and tongues filled with praise to do what they knew how to do.

I frequently meet people who want to have the celebratory experience of speaking to huge crowds of people, when instead, God wants them to be used right where they are, no matter how mundane their job status or where they live. All can learn from this story.  From humble beginnings to divine callings, shepherds are integral figures in this biblical narrative, serving as symbols of faith, humility, and divine favor.  We need to do likewise.

No matter where we work or live, we all have the opportunity to follow the lead of the shepherds: to obey, to follow, to worship and to share.  As Christmas approaches, let us all be mindful of our call to do the same.