Episode #28: The Weekly Mercies of Pam Ellis

I fingered the beautiful new edition of Garland for Girls. I smiled, thinking of the vintage copy I had pulled out to read.

“Thank you for all your extra help,” Jared said. “I got it from here.”

I nodded, dusting off my hands. “You know I enjoy setting up the display. And Lacie leaves such good instructions, I know I can please her.”

Jared nodded. “My wife is suffering in this heat. Summer is apparently a horrible time to be majorly pregnant.”

I nodded like I had a clue. “I’m guessing since both of you are from further north, the summer heat in Texas is especially brutal.”

Jared shrugged. “I don’t think either of us minded. Texas has been a good decision for us. I miss the Christmas tree farm I used to work for. We miss being close to family, but the church and all the opportunities God provided for us here have been amazing. I think the heat is just harder to deal with when you're pregnant.”

Again, I nodded and looked toward the window. Would I ever know what it was like to carry a child within me? Would I ever know what it was like to be married?

I let out a long breath. I hadn’t thought much about Evan, but his face and his kindness came to me. I swallowed. Maybe I should tell Joan about it someday. But I already had something I wanted to discuss with her at our meeting.

 

Joan smiled as I told her about my birthday and all the fun I had. “It sounds wonderful.”

“It was.” I swallowed and took the plunge. “Joan, I’m struggling. I keep feeling like every time things are going well, that is the time to worry because the other shoe is about to drop. I thought things were getting better with Jessie, and then our friendship ended. I was feeling hopeful, and my dad moved out. No, after a very nice week, I’m just wondering when the next bad thing will happen.”

Joan nodded and leaned back in her chair. She took a sip of her iced tea and steadied me for a moment. “How often do we have storms in this area?”

I cocked my head. “Ummm… depends on the season.”

“Okay, how do we have them in December?”

I thought back over my life. “I don’t know. I guess it depends on the year.”

Joan smiled.  “So, you can’t always predict storms, but you can always know one is bound to pop up given enough time.”

Ah, now I understand. “So, what you’re saying is that bad times are investable.” How depressing.

“Indeed, they are, as long as we live in this broken world. However, we have to temper that knowledge with truths that are even more important. What do you think those might be?”

Well, this was irritatingly easy. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, for each day has enough trouble of its own.”

She laughed. “Oh, Pam, that truth is good news, not something nasty to be swallowed.”

I couldn’t help but laugh with her. “But it’s hard not to worry.”

“And worry makes life hard to bear. Choose your hard, Pam.”

Well, didn’t that cut right to the heart of things?

Joan reached across the table. “Jesus said that in this world we would have trouble. It’s a promise that you might not see embroidered on pillows, or painted on wooden signs, but it is beautiful when paired with what He said after.”

“But take heart, I have overcome the world,” I said. Somehow, saying the words actually did feel good and brought some measure of comfort.

“Life will be heard. Prepare for the storms by making sure your heart is ready, like a ship on the sea. Those storms will be heard, but you won’t be along,e and you can hold to the truth that is greater than the storm.”

I took a long sip of tea, knowing this was a lesson that would be harder to put into practice than it would be to listen to it. “Joan, you should write a book about your wisdom.”

She laughed. “No, I don’t have the skill to do that. Besides, I haven’t been called to write out advice on paper; I’ve been called to write advice and words into people’s lives by getting into the trenches with them. Anyone can write a book to tell people what they should or shouldn’t do, but we need more people willing to live life in community and write on people’s lives.”

Tears stung my eyes. “That’s what I want to do, Joan. I feel so broken right now and like nothing will ever be right. I want to take all this pain and help someone else with it someday.”

Joan reached out her hand. “He comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God. You are going to help others in the future, Pam. You’re going to be able to comfort people in similar situations and point them to Jesus.”

Tears flowed. The thought of being the strong one, the one with hope to offer instead of the one clinging to someone else for comfort sounded amazing, and yet, it also sounded so far from where I was.

When I left my meeting with Joan, I went to the store and bought a citrus candle. It was a simple thing from my joy list, but I enjoyed picking out the candle. I lit it and pulled out my mercy’s notebook,

This week’s mercy: The knowledge that God is going to use my broken pieces to comfort someone else someday.