Episode #10: The Weekly Mercies of Pam Ellis

 

“Pam! I was hoping I would catch you!” Joan came up to me at church. “I love your skirt.”

I smiled as the skirt fluttered around me, just as I had wanted it to. There were a couple of weird puckers, but I wasn’t a master seamstress.

“We need to get together sometime soon.”

Even though talking with Joan had been helpful, I felt a hesitation. While my last meeting with Joan had gone well, I worried that the next one might not, or maybe the one after that.

“Busy week?”

I blinked and mentally shook myself. She had kindly assumed my long pause had been mentally reviewing a packed calendar. “What day would be good for you?”

She pulled out a small pocket calendar. “How is your Tuesday?”

I thought about my work schedule. “I’m working until 2 at Booked to a Tea.”

A grin filled Joan’s face. “You work there? I have been meaning to go and check it out.”

I smiled back. Where I worked was a magical place I loved to share with others. “Would you like to come on Tuesday at two as I get off? We could grab cups of tea and enjoy the atmosphere of the place together."

She nodded. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”

 

“Why do you think you burst out in anger?”

I stared down at my cup. I had told myself I hadn’t wanted to share the incident from the week before with Joan, but I had anyway, and now her thoughtful question had me thinking. I glanced around the bookshop, busier than usual, and then back at my mug of clove and spice tea.

“I guess I haven’t dealt with the hurts from last year well. Or maybe I just I’m not spending enough time with God.” I glanced up at Joan, feeling like a kid looking to see if they had the answer right because I honestly wasn’t sure why my anger had risen so fast with my brother.

Joan stared back at me. “Do you think maybe it’s because you are afraid of not being in control?”

I pressed my lips together and stared back into my tea. I knew I couldn’t control my parents' marriage, so that wasn’t it. Was it? Then the truth slammed into me like a huge wave, and I felt pulled under a current of emotion. I covered my face with my hands.

“Pam?” A gentle hand came around my shoulder.

“I’ve lost so much last year. I lost my best friend. I had to see dreams die.” I was not ready to tell her all about my care for Evan with nothing more than his kindness to base my feeling of loss on. “And I’ve seen my family drifting apart. I just… I don’t think I can take another loss. God can’t take my parent's marriage from me. I couldn’t survive it.”

I was shocked by my own words. Who tells God He can’t do something? I looked up at Joan. “You’re right, I’m afraid of more loss of not being in control.”

“Because you’re not sure you can trust God’s goodness.” She said matter of factly. “Do you journal?”

I blinked rapidly. “What?” Why were we changing subjects?

Joan smiled. “I have found that keeping a journal has helped me see God’s loving-kindness in my own life. It’s easy to be stuck in thinking of past hurts and hardships, but in reading what God has done in my life over the course of a year, or a decade, I see easier the pattern of his goodness that I lose in the day-to-day.”

I nodded slowly. My mercies notebook might help. But maybe a journal might help even more. Also, I needed to remember I wasn’t in control no matter what.

“Pam?”

I glanced up at Jared standing there with his daughter Hosanna on his hip.

“I’m sorry to ask because I know you clocked out, but could you help out for a few minutes?”

I glanced up and in the short time I had been spilling my guts, the store had filled with customers. Lacie was cheerfully checking people out and the tea counter had a line of people waiting.

I glanced at Joan.

She waved me off. “You go help. I’ll wait.”

I moved behind the tea counter and filled orders. After half an hour, the rush died down and I found Joan still sitting in a cozy corner in the back of the store.

“This is for you.” She held out a journal covered with pressed flowers. “See if keeping a record of what God is doing each day helps you see His goodness over the course of a year.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

 

It had been a long time since I had faithfully kept a journal. I placed the notebook with its one entry next to my bed, planning on wrapping up each day by jotting down a few thoughts in it.

I grabbed my Mercies notebook, thought for a moment and wrote:

Words that lance the festering lies in me, bring pain, but also healing. Words of truth that are from God’s people. This is God’s great mercy to me this week.