THE 10 MINUTE ENCOURAGER
by
Elizabeth Baker

Then [David] chose for himself five smooth stones from the brook, and put them in a shepherd’s bag. [and said to the giant] “I come to you in the name of the LORD of hosts, . . .for the battle is the LORD’s”

I Samuel 17:40-46 (abridged)

Five Smooth Stones

Nannette pulled deeper into the covers. The sun was already high, but the idea of putting on clothes and washing her face seemed too much to be endured.

Nineteen. That’s how old she was. Others kept telling her these were the best years of her life. If that were true, the future looked frightening indeed. All her friends were gone to college or on expensive vacations. The job she had worked for over a year fired her last month. They said they were “downsizing.” Her rattle-trap car had finally given up the ghost. Worst of all, the guy she thought she loved had left her saying he needed room to “find himself” –a phrase that made no more sense than “downsizing.”

With her mother and father both at work the house was silent. She could lie in bed until noon and no one would know. Rolling to her stomach, she hid her face in the pillow wanting nothing more than to retreat into the dark nothingness of sleep. If she were fortunate, she would not even dream.

It was no use. She turned over again and threw the cover off to her waist. Opening first one eye and then the other she squinted as daylight assaulted her senses. How had adult life gone so wrong, so quickly?

As the mental fog began to clear, she realized she was thirsty and reached for the water on the bedside table. But instead of the glass, her hand brushed two envelopes knocking them to the floor. With a lethargic glance she looked at them scattered across blue carpet and felt guilty. She probably ought to finish reading grandma’s letter but didn’t want to. She paused, weighing the effort of reading against the value of a clean conscious.

When the small package arrived two days earlier, Nan was expecting her grandmother to continue the lectures that her parents had been delivering with gusto. Yet, when the package was opened, she was surprised to find nothing but two small envelopes. The first contained a card and the second a one-page, typed letter.

The card was pretty enough but when she opened it there was nothing inside except her grandmother’s signature, a smiley face, and five small pieces of gravel attached to the card with cellophane tape. With her curiosity growing, Nan opened the second envelope.

“These rocks—if properly used—can change your life,” the letter began without preamble. “I am sure you remember the story of David and how he conquered the giant with only five smooth stones, but it wasn’t until I faced my own giant and the Lord showed me four special things about those stones that I could draw personal hope from his experience. God used five stones a day to pull me out of deepest pit I have ever known and I am confident these rocks can be equally effective against your giant, too.”

Instantly, Nan felt resentment. Bible-talk, again. She tossed the two envelopes on the night stand and that was where they stayed until thirst and sleepiness put them on the floor.

Now, she surveyed them reluctantly as one might observe an unpleasant obligation that couldn’t be avoided. Retrieving the card, she ran her finger over the rocks. What in the world was her senile grandmother thinking about? Then, stretching out over the floor, she grabbed the second envelope with the tips of her fingers, opened it and for a second time began to read.

“When I was in my early 30s, I was so discouraged that it seemed life was hardly worth the effort of breathing. Friends would tell me to look on the bright side and be grateful for what I had. Family argued that I should just get over it. But what they said only added to my discouragement. I COULD NOT do as they advised. There simply wasn’t enough energy to try anymore. That was when I discovered the secret of the stones.”

Nan briefly remembered her mother mentioning that grandma once struggled with depression, and as she read Granny’s words they so acutely described her own life she was genuinely impressed. “If you want to kill the giants in your life,” Grandmother wrote, “You should find five stones each day that have the same qualities as those David picked up and then hold them as tightly as your strength will allow.”

“The first quality of David’s stones was that they were pleasant. The Bible specifically states that the rocks were smooth. They would have been cool from the water and pleasing to the touch. Each day, find those things that are pleasant. These are your stones. The only stipulation is that they must be pleasing you, personally. It doesn’t matter what the thing does or does not means to others.

“A second aspect of David’s stones were that they occurred naturally. David didn’t put them in the stream; they got there all by themselves. You don’t make stones happen. And, above all, never beat yourself up because of what others say should be pleasant. If it feels good to you, great! If not, forget it. No ‘shoulds’ or ‘oughts’ allowed.

“The Bible also says that David’s stones were small. This is the third quality of the “rocks” you will be looking for. Giants are big, but the things that bring them down are often the smallest of all. Tiny, pleasant things that constantly surround you, like smell and touch, are so common their enjoyable qualities are easily overlooked. But, when you are facing a giant, small stones are invaluable. Don’t let them pass you by.

“The last thing necessary for turning rocks into weapons is that you must be willing to pick them up. That sounds simple enough, but it can be the most difficult thing about giant killing. When you are in a pit, allowing your heart to embrace tiny, pleasant things seems almost insulting. But, if you can, emotionally embrace the pleasing thing and hold it for a moment.”

Nan gave out a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a giggle. Granny. She was such a . . . well, such a creative thinker. Five stones. The very idea. She turned and stretched between the sheets letting the letter fall on the quilt.

The letter was still there thirty minutes later when she again woke with sunlight in her eyes. Her first gloomy thought was how her parents were pushing her to get a job. Her second was her loneliness. But her third sensation overpowered both the others. She was hungry. She threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed resting her feet on the warm carpet.

The carpet was nubby, but soft as she rubbed her feet back and forth across it. The massaging motion felt good. Remembering the letter, she wondered if such a small sensation could count as a stone. Perhaps. She held on to the sensation for a moment, before the dark, brooding feelings returned and she had to drag herself into the kitchen.

It was late in the afternoon before she again thought of the silly concept of finding stones. She had managed to dress—something that occurred only about every other day—and was sitting in front of the television staring with unseeing eyes. She hated the idea of silence, but knew her mother would scold if she came home and found her vegging in front of the set, so she pressed “off” and just as she predicted, the dark feelings grew more intense in the quiet. Nan had almost decided she would rather face her mother’s wrath when the jangling of the telephone broke the spell.

It was Deidra, an on-again off-again friend from high school asking if she still had an address for Margaret. Deidra could chatter with a fence post, so the lively conversation lasted longer than expected and when she hung up the darkness wasn’t quite so intense. Nannette wondered if a long-winded acquaintance could also be a stone. If so, that was stone number two for today. The idea of picking up stones was beginning to take root.

By the time her mother came through the door, Nan was sitting in the kitchen swirling ice cubes around in a glass of Coke. Her mother eyed her suspiciously. At least her daughter was dressed, and for the first time in weeks the TV was not blaring.

“Today go okay?” her mom questioned resisting the temptation to ask if she had filled out the job application for El Chico’s restaurant.

“Yeah, a little better,” Nannette replied. “I read that letter from Granny. She’s cool.”

That was the total conversation between them, yet as her mom went about preparations for dinner Nan felt a hint of peace. Her mother hadn’t mentioned a word about the job. Maybe stones could be the absence of things as well as their presence. If so, this was stone number three.

Inside, a small emotion stirred. She didn’t give it a name, but if she had, it might have been a pebble called, “hope.”

Be Encouraged: Small moments of gratitude can become weapons that bring down the largest giants in the land.

*****

For information about Elizabeth's books and to read other stories visit her at: www.elizabethbakerbooks.com