The Destiny of One

March Wrap-Up

2:27 PM

Episode #14: The Weekly Mercies of Pam Ellis

4:00 AM

“I don’t think Molly has stopped chattering about her time with you.”

I smiled as I took a sip of my lavender vanilla tea. “I’m so glad. I enjoyed having her.”

Jared set the box of tea down behind the counter. “She's growing up so fast. I want to be the best uncle-father I can be to her. But as we are in the double-digits now, I’m less and less sure I can be what I need to be to her.”

I swallowed, thinking of how both my parents were distant these days as they struggled to rebuild their marriage. I swallowed. “I’m sure you being there for her will mean more to her than she will ever know.”

He sighed. “I just remember how excited she was when Lacie and I got married. How full of gladness she was. She loved Pollyanna and always played the glad game. Now, mostly I hear about how she wishes her own parents were alive and how annoying it is to have a baby sister around. Heaven help us when our next little one arrives.”

I pressed my lips together and I unloaded the boxes of tea onto the shelf for display, enjoying the cozy feeling of being in the shop as the spring rain poured down. “Can I suggest you find something fun to do with her? I was recently reminded by my siblings that it’s important to have fun together during times of turbulence and change. I bet Molly would benefit from the two of you doing something fun.”

“That’s an idea. Any suggestions on what we do?”

I turned toward him as I finished putting the cherry blossom tea next to the raspberry rose tea. “Well, I’m going to do one of those online painting tutorials this evening. I think my siblings have decided to join me. It should be fun.”

“Molly does like creative things. I should try that. Send me the link?”

I nodded. I just hoped this worked for him and for me.

While I had envisioned that my siblings and I would have a good time with lots of laughter, I hadn’t anticipated my siblings laughing so much at the instructor.

To be fair, the instructor was fond of adjectives and chose some pretty fun ones to describe the river, trees, and tiny log cabin we were painting.

“A jolly log?” Asa said, laughing. He hadn’t painted a thing on his canvas. “I have the sudden urge to go reread the Chronicles of Narnia. Jolly good.”

Now he had me wanting to read them, but not because of the word jolly. But later today, I would pick up my favorite, the Horse and His Boy, and reread it.

“A luscious river,” Ben teased, striking a pose. “My what a luscious river. It puts me in mind of a dinner I had once.”

I couldn’t help laughing with them. But while they were funny, I couldn’t help but be irritated. This was not the painting party I had envisioned. I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to be irritated. I wanted to allow my siblings to have fun, even if it wasn’t how I wanted them to have fun.

I wanted to be humble and set myself aside like Jesus. Which was getting harder as my brothers now turned their humor towards our paintings.

“That doesn’t look like pleasant oceans green, Pam.”

I took a deep breath and tried to figure out how to respond. I caught Ivy’s eyes.

“Guys, Pam wanted to paint. I think…"

“And what is that!” Asa laughed as he pointed to my attempt at a bunny in the corner of the painting.

I took a deep breath and tried to control my words. “Asa, Ben, I know that you think this guy is funny but please don’t make fun of my work. If you don’t want to join us…”

Asa huffed. “Don’t be so uptight.”

Ben looked into my eyes and then at Asa but said nothing.

“Hey!” Meg rarely raised her voice, but she could be loud when she wanted to be. “Guys, you can have fun and not be mean.”

“I wasn’t trying to be mean, it’s just that-”

Ben cleared his throat. “Asa, if the girls find it mean, then I think you should stop even if it wasn’t your intention to be mean.”

I nodded toward Ben. I knew it had cost him. He didn’t like to confront people and he hated being out of sorts with Asa.

Asa huffed and walked out of the room muttering.

“I guess that makes this a girl's evening.” Meg’s voice was falsely cheerful. “Let me back up the video."

I continued to paint, even though my heart wasn’t in it. But I was too stubborn to let Asa know he had made me sad. It would make me feel like he had won.

I could hear the boys talking and laughing. They had probably started another game of Risk or perhaps were watching one of their favorite cartoon shows.

I glanced at Ivy, and she was painting, but not even attempting to follow along.

There was some throat clearing and I turned. Asa stood there, his face red. “Pam, Meg, Ivy… I’m sorry.”

I blinked. I glanced at Ben, but his eyes were on our brother.

“I just…” He sighed. “I like to laugh and sometimes I forget that I need to stop myself to be kind.”

Ivy set her brush in a mason jar of water and gave Asa a hug. “Forgiven.”

I wanted to follow her, but I suddenly realized that I was struggling inside. I was upset that he had ruined my idea of a perfect evening with our siblings.

Ben glanced at me and then at Asa and back again.

I tried to beat some sense into my wayward heart. Keeping short accounts was what I was supposed to do as a Christian, and after all, it wasn’t that big of an issue. I shouldn’t be petty. I shouldn’t be bitter. I needed to…

“Hey, we know you love to laugh. We just didn’t want you to laugh at us.” Meg said. “Grab your brush again.”

I was mentally screaming at myself and yet I stood frozen, staring at my brother. What was I waiting for?

He needs to be more sorry.

And right then and there, I wished I could split myself in two and tackle that part of me.

I’ve been hurt too much. This is the last straw.

Asa stepped toward me. “I’m really sorry, Pam. I was the meanest to you.”

I prayed and took a step forward. “Forgiven.” I hadn’t felt like saying the words. I wasn’t sure I meant them completely and it was emotionally exhausting to say them. However, I felt like I had won a battle.

Asa smiled and returned to his canvas. It was awkward for the next few minutes as we all worked on our paintings and tried to not be awkward, making it even more so.

Then the artist on screen made a comparison of what we were painting to something a little off-color. I looked up at my siblings horrified. I had skimmed through to make sure there wasn’t something like that and I missed it.

“Well, I guess we can all agree that was weird,” Ben said into our horrified silence.

We all laughed. We turned off the sound and made up our own ridiculous commentary of what he was saying.

This week's Mercies:

My siblings

Choosing to laugh

God’s power to help me overcome the ugly sin inside of me.

The Horse and His Boy has a special place in my heart. God used it to capture my heart during a dark time in my life.

The Weekly Mercies of Pam Ellis

Episode #13: The Weekly Mercies of Pam Ellis

4:00 AM

Host a tea party.

It sounded so simple when I was making a list. I was good at lists. In fact, I had three different, very good lists around me. But I sat, staring at my screen with my invite list, frozen.

I couldn’t do this. Yes, it was on my list to host a tea party with a few friends, but actually doing it…

You're so needy.

I’m sorry. We can’t be friends anymore.

I covered my ears, but since the words came from inside my own head, that didn’t stop them. How could I try to reach out to people when things had gone so badly before?

I took a deep breath. Who could I go to for some better counsel than what my own warring heart and mind offered?

Joan.

I texted her asking if I could ask her a question and then I continued on my grocery list, even though planning the party was making my anxiety rise.

My phone rang. It was Joan.

“Hi Joan.”

“Hi Pam, what’s going on?”

How did I explain why something so simple was causing me so much stress? Maybe just say it as plainly as that. “You know I told you about the list I made at the beginning of the year?”

“Oh yes,” Joan said. “I thought it was a wonderful idea to get back to things you loved.”

I sighed. “Well, this week, I was going to have a tea party. I used to have them often and I loved it. But…I’m stressed out just thinking about it. I mean, after losing my friend last year, it seems like it’s impossible to do something this social. I’ve been sitting here, panicking too much to send out the email invites. How do I get over this and just do it?”

“Who says you have to?”

I sank into my chair. “What?”

“Who says you have to do this now? If it is that stressful, it doesn’t seem like that would make it a joyful experience. Yes, sometimes you have to push yourself to do things when you don’t want to but other times you need to give yourself some time to heal.”

My breath caught and tears spilled over. I felt silly for how much relief those words brought me. I sniffed. “So you don’t think I need to worry about this now?”

Joan was quiet for a moment and then spoke. “Pam, are you still in God’s word?”

I looked over at my open bible. I had caught up on my reading plan. “Yes.”

“Are you still in church?”

I laughed because Joan and I made a point of saying hello to each other every Sunday. “Yes.”

“Are you staying in fellowship with other believers? By that I mean are there people in your life that you are sharing with about what is going on in your heart and who encourage your walk with Jesus?”

Joan. My siblings. Crystal. I had some very good friends who pointed my gaze upward. “I do.”

“Then Pam, if there are some social things that are causing you to panic, maybe it shows there is an area in your heart that needs some time to heal. As long as you are pursuing healing from The Healer, I don’t think you need to worry about completing something off your checklist.”

I let out a long breath. “Okay.”

“Pam?

“Yes?”

“You're doing well.”

Again the tears sprung to my eyes. “Every time I think I’m doing well, I see the long way I have to go.”

She chuckled. “That's the Christian life. Here I am in my seventies and I know I still have a long way to go. May I make a suggestion?”

“Of course?”

“Perhaps see if one person will share tea with you and then come up with some ideas of things that might help you heal. I don’t know if you know this, but I had a baby that was stillborn.”

I sucked in a breath. “What?”

“It had been a rocky year to begin with. I had a few people say some very hurtful things about the reason my baby died. I never wanted to go to church or the grocery store again. So I sat down and I made a list. I let myself skip church for two weeks. For about two months, I slipped in during the first song and left during the final prayer. I avoided some people for a month until I could talk to them in a godly way. I do think giving yourself time to heal before hosting a party is okay.”

I let out a long breath. “Thank you, Joan. I needed that.”

“You are welcome, my dear.”

“And I’m sorry about your baby. Did you name them?”

“We named him Samuel. Because even though we never got to see him take his first breath, we knew he was a gift from God all the same.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. I wanted a faith like Joan's, one that saw the blessings amid the worst life had to offer. “That’s beautiful. Thank you, Joan.”

After saying goodbye, I grabbed a cup of English breakfast tea with a splash of half-and-half and settled down at my desk again. I shoved aside the lists for the tea party and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. I would make a plan - a timeline to give myself permission not to do something, like Joan had done.

I took a sip of tea, but before I put anything down on my plan for giving myself space to rest, I pulled out my mercies notebook to make note of the mercies.

God, who is a healer

Wise words from Joan

The space to rest and heal

The Weekly Mercies of Pam Ellis

Episode #12: The Weekly Mercies of Pam Ellis

4:00 AM

My plans were made. I had already slipped my letter onto Ivy’s desk, getting it done early in the week. I had finished my work week. Now, I would bake some of those spice cookies I love and read the next book from my childhood stash: The Boxcar Children.

Or at least I thought my plans were well laid.

“Pam! You're making cookies!” Asa shouted, entering the kitchen.

Asa was as loud and boisterous as Ben was quiet and sweet. He was the sibling who could get most on my nerves. However, if I ever needed someone to be enthusiastic about something, he was the one.

“Perfect! We’re having a movie party. We'll love you and your cookies joining us.”

I stared at him. My plans did not include a movie party or my siblings decimating my cookies when I had hoped to have them for a week of evening enjoyment.

Meg entered the kitchen. “The boys convinced us to try that action movie they’ve been raving about. We should have a lot of fun.”

And there was very little they could have said the make the movie party less appealing, but that was one of them. Offer me a cheesy TV show or a period drama, and I was all in even if I had plans. But one of the boy's action movies…

Not everything is about you.

Perhaps this was an obvious truth that many of my fellow Christians have mastered, but my selfishness was insistent and pervasive. I didn’t want to interrupt my plans but my siblings wanted me. It was far more important to do some fun things that were meaningful to them than for me to lounge in my room and indulge myself.

“How was the movie then?” Lacie rubbed at her back, her baby bump small but visible.

I laughed. “It was… just like I suspected it would be. I didn’t love it, but the time with my siblings was worth it."

Lacie nodded, sadness clouding her eyes. “Time with siblings is something I doubt you will ever regret.”

My heart squeezed. No doubt she was thinking of her own sister who had died in a car accident while estranged from her family. I thought over the evening with my siblings. I did enjoy the time with them. I needed to do more with them. Not only had I withdrawn because of the pain of the last year, but I think I had become less likely to do things I didn’t love. I should do more things for my siblings I wasn’t excited about for myself.

“Aunt Lacie?”

We turned from the bookshelf we were restocking to see Molly holding the hand of Hosanna.

“Yes, Molly?”

“Hosanna isn’t sitting still while I’m trying to read.”

I smothered laughter.

Lacie smiled. “Well, she’s still a little young to sit still.”

Molly sighed. “I can’t wait until she is bigger.” She turned back to her book, leaving the little girl to her mother.

Lacie shook her head. “Poor Molly. She’s having a rough time of it.”

I glanced toward the retreating girl. “Oh? She seems fine.”

She chewed on her lip for a moment before settling Hosanna on her hip and continuing to put the books on the shelf. “Anna has taken to calling me Mama and Jared Daddy. Molly says she’s okay with it, but I know it’s hard. She remembers her parents, but those memories are fading. I think she’s caught between being glad we are here for her and Anna and feeling like she is losing her connection to her past.”

I looked toward the children’s corner where Molly and Anna sat reading. “Anna doesn’t remember her parents, does she?”

Lacie shook her head. “No. It doesn’t seem to bother her. What has been bothering her lately is Molly trying to make her remember. Molly will talk about the mission or something someone did and Anna isn't bothered that she can't remember.”

I put a stack of books onto the shelves. “Maybe Molly can come and spend some time with me at the bookshop? Just her and me? Maybe she needs some attention that isn’t divided between the younger children.”

“That might be just what she needs.” Lacie let Hosanna down. “I’ll see if I can arrange a day for Jared to watch Anna and Hosanna and make sure Molly has a whole day where she is with you or me. After all, she is entering a trying age.”

Hosanna grew fussy and Lacie, with a look my way, grabbed her daughter and took her off to the back where she had a playpen set up.

I continued on the new display of books. We were preparing for the Easter season. We had a selection of Easter devotionals, non-fiction, and fiction all ready to go. I looked at the display. I decided I would get a copy of Incomparable, the devotional by Nancy Wolgemuth. It seemed like a good one. I would start it while I ate the last two spice cookies I had hidden.

I finished the display and moved toward the tea counter. We needed to set out our spring teas. I smiled and dropped a bag of wildberry tea into my mug. I would of course have to try out all the new teas that we had in stock.

I looked around at the shop and just wanted to wrap up this whole moment and put it in my mercy notebook. With plans I looked forward to the next week, teas I was excited to try, and a new devotional, the feeling that wrapped around my heart felt a lot like hope. That feeling is what I would put in my Mercies notebook.

Incomparable: 50 Days with Jesus by Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth is a powerful devotional that I loved last year. You can get it directly from Revive Our Hearts or from Amazon

My somewhat normal life

March Life Update

4:00 AM

Kate's Case Files

Kate's Truth Cover revleal and preorder starts!

5:35 PM

The Weekly Mercies of Pam Ellis

Episode #11: The Weekly Mercies of Pam Ellis

4:00 AM

I had never understood the term waking up on the wrong side of the bed, but I understood the feeling all too well. Monday had been a wonderful day. After bounding out of bed, I had gone eagerly to work, enjoyed watching a goofy movie with my siblings in the evening, and had fallen asleep after my bible reading with a smile on my face.

And then my alarm had gone off.

There was nothing about the day that started me off on the wrong foot (another ridiculous saying) but somehow, I still felt like I was behind and grumpy about it. One of the passages I read in my mixed plan spoke of gratitude, which made me glare at my mercies notebook. It wasn’t that I hated the notebook, I just hated it this morning.

Just like I was irritated with how the black tea tasted.

Just like I was frustrated when I had to get up and show a customer where a book was on the shelf.

Just like I felt like shouting at the customer who came out of our bathroom to tell me there was a little mess that needed my attention. Forget that it was just water, I wanted to run after the lady and tell her she should have the decency to clean up after herself.

I lectured myself sternly as I wiped up the water in the bathroom. Nothing was wrong. Life wasn’t bad. All the things that were irritating me today weren’t actually a big deal. However, my emotions stubbornly refused to budge. For some reason, even though I knew in my head all was well, my heart refused to get the message.

And all of a sudden, I smiled. I remembered how often this feeling had been with me in my childhood. I had struggled frequently with a bad attitude and my parents had often been at a loss as to how to deal with it.

They hadn’t helped me. I know that is a horrible thing to say about your parents. Mine had been exceptionally good parents, but somehow, they had thought pointing out that I had a bad attitude that needed to change would help me.

It hadn’t.

I stopped in the middle of the store as I stood with the cleaning supplies. So why did I think it would help now? Just acknowledging and telling myself over and over again that I had a bad attitude and needed to change things wouldn’t help me.

I put the cleaning supplies back into the back room and moved to check on a customer. As soon as they had left, I rested my chin in my palm and thought. What had turned the tide when I was younger? Well, that was easy to remember. I had found the root cause of much of my bad attitude, which was a sense of entitlement and discontent. God worked on my heart. My attitude followed.

I sighed. I didn’t have any idea what was causing my heart to feel so down and out of sorts today unless… I did a mental calculation. Ah! Hormones. Not that they always made me feel this way, but they had on occasion.

What was I going to do about it?

I pulled up a list on my phone since I hadn’t decided what I would do this week just for the joy of it. I settled on a classic girl choice: I would go and buy something. Other than books, I rarely did shopping for myself. Mostly that was because I didn’t love shopping.

However, sometimes you had to do something different, something fun, to remember that life wasn’t just about your to-do list.

After getting a snack and iced tea, I wandered around the craft store for a while. While usually I could load up my cart with things I would love, nothing seemed to jump out at me.

I popped into the next store, which was home goods. I meandered down the aisle and came to paper goods. Pens, notepads, and journals abounded. My eye caught out a wooden box. Well, it wasn’t a box, it was a writing desk. I pulled it out. It reminded me of the one I had when I was young and writing to pen pals. I had loved that little lap desk, but it had been cardboard and had fallen apart after a couple of years of intense use.

I saw the inside had been filled with a beautiful stationary set. How long had it been since I had written a letter? Probably when I was seventeen and the last of my many pen-pals had told me she wouldn’t have time to write anymore.

What if I started writing letters again?

My decision was made. I took the writing desk up to the counter and bought it. I decided I would try to write a letter once a week to someone. I would start with my own family members, and Ben would get the first one.

I still felt bad about my outburst toward him, even though I had apologized and he had forgiven me. I wanted to do something he could hold so he would know I cared.

I looked at my Bible, Mercies notebook, and my bucket list on the floor before me. I was ten weeks into the year and I decided it was time to evaluate what I was doing. Perhaps a day when I had been out of sorts might not the be ideal time to do such a thing, but I didn’t want to keep blindly doing the same thing over and over again if it wasn’t helpful.

Now I understood why Joan had suggested the journal. One would think that ten weeks is hardly enough time to forget emotions, yet as I sat there, trying to figure out if I had made progress, I wasn’t sure.

I flipped open my mercies notebook. Well, if nothing else, it had to be good for me to keep a record of the good things God was doing in my life. What were His mercies today?

~ Remembering God’s work in the past that helped me decide what I needed to do to help with my attitude today.

~ Remembering fun hobbies in the past and bringing them forward to my present.

~ How Jesus has worked in my heart since I was young

~ My new writing desk.