"What He ordains for us each moment is what is most holy, best, and most divine for us." Jean-Pierre de Caussade

Sunday, January 7, 2024

Don’t Mess With My Baby Brothers

A number of years ago I was in a dressing room in Belk when a phone rang in the stall beside me. The woman answered and, not meaning to eavesdrop, I couldn’t help but hear one side of the conversation. I really wasn’t interested … that is until I heard her mention my brothers’ names. Then I was full on with both ears attuned. I listened while this woman went on and on about them and their dental practice. And why SHE would not go to them. It was all I could do to remain silent. But, boy, did I listen. She finally hung up, gathered her things and walked out … as I peeked under the door to see her shoes.  I must admit I was pretty livid. You don’t mess with my people; especially my “baby” twin brothers. But I decided not to pursue her and to let it be.

Until … I got ready to make my purchase and headed to customer service to check out. And guess who was standing there? The lady with the recognizable shoes. There was a lot of debating going on inside my head. Do I remain quiet? Do I say anything? If I do say something, what should it be? As it happened, I had plenty of time to think because she was ordering something to be shipped to her which meant I got her name, her address and her telephone number. Wasn’t that fortuitous?


So as we stood there waiting, she turned around and said “Hello” in the nicest voice. I kindly returned the greeting and added, “I’m Nancy McLendon, the Sheltons’ sister. The dentists, remember?” She smiled so largely and nodded her head as she said, “Yes, the Sheltons.” I just smiled back at her without saying another word knowing it was going to take a second. And then I watched the transformation happen. Her smile began to droop, her eyes began to widen and her lips parted to form an, “Oh, my.” 


When I was sure it had settled on her, without raising my voice or pointing my finger, I simply said, “I just want you to know you will not find two better men in a hundred mile radius. Not only do they both have immense integrity, they are excellent dentists, they care about their patients, and are not out to “take” you. You can trust them.”


To say this woman was horrified at this recent turn of events would be an understatement. She knew she had been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar in front of the boys’ big sister. When she could gather herself, she responded, “I am so embarrassed. And my husband would be mortified if he knew about this. He is a pastor and they are his dentists.” I slowly nodded and said, “I’ll make a deal with you. I won’t tell anybody,” [remember I had her name, address and phone number in my pocket — and she knew it], “but you have to promise me that you will never talk ugly about them again. AND I want you to go call your friend right now and tell her about our conversation.” 


There are many applications that I could make about this encounter, but I’m going to leave it with this one:


Now as he [Saul] was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute Me?” He said, “Who are You, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting” (Acts 9:3-5 NRSV).


Translation: “When you mess with one of Mine, you mess with Me.” Just like any older brother, or sister, would do.


Take heart, dear reader. Have you got somebody messing with you? Jesus is your older Brother. He is your Defender. Your Protector. Your Bulwark. Your Savior. He is the One who fights for you. But beware: it goes the other way, too. Even pastor’s wives are not immune.


Now whether this woman went and did what I suggested, I’ll never know. But I am confident of this: she will never forget about that moment standing at the cash register in Belk. In fact, I’m not so sure she didn’t even see a bright light flash around her.


[Side note: when I was young, maybe about six years old, a neighborhood bully called me “Fat.” My older brother came to my defense. He looked at my persecutor and boldly proclaimed, “She’s not fat. She’s Chubby!” What love.]

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