Episode #28: The Weekly Mercies of Pam Ellis

 

I finished putting the last touch on the July display. Ismiled at the new prints and stickers with Jane Austen quotes we had from Pace, as well as the beautiful editions of Jane Austen’s work. This took up abouthalf of the front part of the welcoming display. The other half was Louise MayAlcott's books.

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 itfrom here.”

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

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

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

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

Again, I nodded and looked toward the window. Would I everknow what it was like to carry a child within me? Would I ever know what it waslike 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 Joanabout it someday. But I already had something I wanted to discuss with her atour meeting.

 

Joan smiled as I told her about my birthday and all the funI 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 worrybecause the other shoe is about to drop. I thought things were getting betterwith Jessie, and then our friendship ended. I was feeling hopeful, and my dadmoved out. No, after a very nice week, I’m just wondering when the next badthing will happen.”

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

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 itdepends on the year.”

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

Ah, now I understand. “So, what you’re saying is that badtimes 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 moreimportant. What do you think those might be?”

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

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

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

“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 thisworld we would have trouble. It’s a promise that you might not see embroideredon pillows, or painted on wooden signs, but it is beautiful when paired withwhat 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 ofcomfort.

“Life will be heard. Prepare for the storms by making sureyour heart is ready, like a ship on the sea. Those storms will be heard, but youwon’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 thatwould 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 calledto write advice and words into people’s lives by getting into the trenches withthem. 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’slives.”

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

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

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

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

This week’s mercy: Theknowledge that God is going to use my broken pieces to comfort someone elsesomeday.