Tag Archives: pandemic

Teach Us to Pray

20 Sunday Dec 2020

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My Grandma and Grandpa Bunton were tenant tobacco farmers and lived in an old farm house in rural northeast Guilford County, NC. When they moved into it in the early 1940’s, it was already 100 years old. It wasn’t much, I don’t suppose, but it was the place where I felt the most safe in the whole world.

My parents split up when I was just a toddler, and my daddy and I moved in with Grandma, Grandpa and my Aunt Bet who had never moved out. We might have been poor by other people’s standards, but I didn’t know it — and I wouldn’t have cared if I did.

The foundation for my life was laid in those formative years when we lived with my Grandma Bunton, before my daddy remarried and we moved out. Although she had already raised 11 children, she didn’t seem to mind taking me on as well. And I wasn’t the only one. I have many cousins who would tell a story similar to mine about how Grandma Bunton was instrumental in raising them.

She’d say, “Drag up that stool and he’p me do the deeshes. I’ll warsh and you raynch.” (Translation for you non-Southerners: I was too small to reach the sink. She would wash the dishes and I would rinse them). She would try to call me by name, but it usually came out, “John, Bet, Alvin . . . ” and she’d finally get around to “Dee.” There were just too many of us to keep up with!

Although she never once complained, Grandma Bunton lead a hard life. She lived in that house for over 30 years before she got indoor plumbing and didn’t have to go to the well to draw water or go to the outhouse. She didn’t buy clothes or food from the store — she made it all. She never learned to drive and never had a car.

Some of her children followed her in faith in God, but some took the long way home. More than one of them called the house needing to be bailed out of jail, yet never once did she turn any of her wayward ones away. Each was loved and welcomed as much as the next, no matter what they’d done. She buried her husband, 5 children and several grandchildren, one of whom was murdered, before she died at 92. When I think about losing one of my children or grandchildren, I realize I can’t imagine the heartache she lived through.

She took me to church every Sunday, but that isn’t what influenced me the most. It was what I saw her do at home. She truly lived out her faith. Every year she read her Bible through — from Genesis to Revelation. Then she’d get on her knees by the bed and pray softly under her breath, not stopping until she had called all our names in prayer and thanked the Lord for her many blessings.

This is either my birthday or hers — we were both born in January. I had to be about two years old. She is teaching me to thank God for the food before we had cake — she is teaching me to pray. I wanted to be like her, so if she was a woman of prayer, that’s what I was going to be, too!

She didn’t just teach me to say the blessing at meals. She taught me to pray about everything, in every circumstance. Because of her, there has never been a time in my life that I haven’t had this most important tool of faith.

If you didn’t have someone like Grandma Bunton to teach you to pray, don’t you worry! It’s NEVER too late to learn to take all your cares to God. We can all learn straight from Jesus, just like the Disciples did.

The Disciples knew where Jesus gained His strength, what kept Him close to His Father. They knew He was a man of prayer because they watched Him pray. Just like I did with Grandma Bunton, they knew if they wanted to be like Him, they had to do what He did. Luke records in chapter 11:1,

One day Jesus was praying in a certain place. When He finished, one of His disciples said to Him, ‘Lord, teach us to pray . . . ‘

If you don’t know how to pray, if you don’t have a grandmother like I had, if you don’t have a mentor in the faith, please know you can still learn to pray. The Spirit of God will lead you, teach you, help you, strengthen you and guide you.

We’re all struggling right now. Every one of us. We are nearly a year into a pandemic that has cost lives, destroyed livelihoods, separated family and friends, and been the detriment of physical and mental health. We can’t fix it, but we can pray. We can ask God for help. We can ask Him for strength, guidance, endurance, direction and faith to see us through this nightmare. I know where to go because I learned it from my grandmother. If you don’t know what to do, I invite you to trust God with me. He will never leave us nor forsake us.

There is power in group prayer, so will you join me in taking my concerns to Jesus like my Grandma Bunton taught me?

Precious Lord Jesus, here we are, dealing with a virus that is bigger than us. We don’t know what the answer is, but we know You do. Whether that answer is to come through the medical community or through any other means, we pray You will lead us to an end of this pandemic. All eyes are on You.

While we are socially distanced, divided and afraid, help us to be kinder than ever, more loving, more thoughtful, more like You. May the world see the Followers of Christ as the Love of God in the flesh.

We thank you, Lord, for the great cloud of witnesses who have been giants in the faith, who have taught us to trust You, and we ask You to enable us to lead the next generation to do the same.

Lord, teach us to pray. May all who come behind us find us faithful.

In Your mighty Name and for Your glory, amen.

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Through the Peephole

13 Wednesday May 2020

Posted by in Strength for the Journey

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When I was married to my first husband and the kids were very small, we lived in a sweet little house that I loved near Seymour Johnson Air Force Base in Goldsboro, NC. The front door was solid and I couldn’t see who was there when someone came over. So I asked him to install a peephole.

He was so proud of his handiwork. It was perfectly centered. No splinters around it. No scratches on the paint. There was only one problem . . . I couldn’t see out of it.

I’m 5’3″ and he was 6’3″. The peephole was an entire foot above my line of vision. He had made the peephole where he could see clearly who was on the porch if he was standing flatfooted. There was no reason to fuss about it. It would have looked stupid to have two peepholes in the door. So for the rest of the time we lived there, I pulled up a chair to stand on when the doorbell rang.

There was no malice in what he’d done. He wasn’t trying to inconvenience me. He was simply doing what most all of us do from time to time — he was looking at the world through his own eyes.

We all have our own peepholes. We have a tendency to be egocentric, and unless we make a concerted effort to think about how things look from another’s point of view, we’re destined to think all views are the same.

We’re in the middle of a pandemic, in case you haven’t noticed. People are dying. Our entire economy is shut down. One phrase I keep reading (and quite honestly it’s getting old) is, “We’re all in this together!” 

Not exactly. Someone else said it much better, I think,

We’re all in the same storm, but we’re not all in the same boat.

Some of us have had COVID-19 and have recovered. Some of us have died. Some have lost loved ones and couldn’t even have a proper funeral. Some have enjoyed the time home and are glad to have had the downtime. Some have felt desperately lost and inadequate trying to teach their children who are upset that school is canceled. Some are stuck with an abusive spouse or parents. Some have lost jobs, their small business or their retirement plan. Some have lost their senior year — no prom, sports, and no graduation. Some are on the front lines, caring for the sick and risking their lives, and some are safe in quarantine. It’s been a vacation for some and a nightmare for others.

Even though we’re not all having the same experience, we can still be good humans. We can do our best to see things from others’ perspectives. We can fight the urge to compare our INSIDES to their OUTSIDES.

It might be tempting to judge a young mom for bringing her children into the grocery story instead of keeping them safe at home, when the truth is she’s a single mom with no one to help her, and she can’t very well leave them in the car.

It might be tempting to judge someone who fights to keep the family business open because it’s safer to stay closed, when the truth is they’re trying to put food on the table and not go bankrupt.

It might be tempting to say you are young and healthy and would be fine if you caught the virus, when the truth is, you might unknowingly give it to someone who is immunocompromised or the healthcare worker caring for them.

I don’t pretend to have the answers. I don’t know when this mess will be over or what life will look like when COVID-19 is a dot in our rearview mirror. (If it’s never going to be, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know!)

So here’s my suggestion. Instead of thinking about what we CAN’T do, let’s think about what we CAN do.

We can be kind to everyone, even if they’re not kind to us. We can stop and think for just a second how things might be for someone else that is different from what we’re experiencing.

We can keep scrolling when someone makes a post online that makes you think they might not be socially distancing like you think they should be, or if they are doing anything else you don’t like. No one EVER changed anyone’s mind about ANYTHING by starting an argument or shaming anyone on social media.

We can patronize local businesses. The big guys are going to survive. When this is over, Walmart, Target, McDonald’s and Taco Bell will still be there. How about getting takeout from the local eatery and help some folks keep their houses? Guaranteed it’s healthier than fast food anyway!

We can check in on an elderly neighbor. See if you can bring them groceries and leave it on their step. Talk to them through the door. I bet they’re lonely and would love a little human interaction!

We can send cards to those in nursing homes or homebound and brighten their day since they can’t have visitors or see their families.

We can call or text someone who lives alone, is a frontline worker — healthcare or first responder, or anyone especially struggling right now. Ask how they are, let them know you care.

We can choose NOT to politicize this pandemic. For the love of all that is holy, PLEASE don’t use it to promote and/or disparage the elected official you love or love to hate. It is OKAY for someone to disagree with you.

Jesus told us in Luke 6:35-36,

Help and give without expecting a return. You’ll never—I promise—regret it. Live out this God-created identity the way our Father lives toward us, generously and graciously, even when we’re at our worst. Our Father is kind; you be kind.

We’re all scared. Even if we don’t show it. We’re uncertain about the future. Most of us are tired of being on lockdown. We’re lonely. Many of us are ready to get out of the house and get back to our lives — we just don’t know what that will look like. We can’t fix it and we can’t control it.

But we can do our best to try to see things from another’s perspective.

Grab a chair and look out someone else’s peephole. They’ll be glad you did. And so will you.