THE 10 MINUTE ENCOURAGER
by
Elizabeth Baker

But let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes’ and your ‘No,’ ‘No.’ For whatever is more than these is from the evil one.
Matthew 5:37

BABY STEPS

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Brittany regretted saying them. She wanted to reach out into the air, pull them back and stuff them away somewhere in the dark never to be seen again. But, she couldn’t.

“I left shortly before midnight,” that was all she had said. Then she smiled and let the words carry her reputation on a rising wave. The others seemed duly impressed with her dedication to the job. What did it matter that the time was actually closer to eight-fifteen?

The friendly talk and teasing continued to swirl around her while Brittany crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table as she evaluated her lunch companions. Six coworkers—four men and two women—were celebrating the end of a joint project. This wasn’t a threatening situation, so why did she feel compelled to lie? None of the others would have been concerned about her stretching the truth. If she had stopped the conversation, confessed her deception and offered accurate information, they would have thought her silly. Or weird.

But inside, she didn’t feel silly. She felt guilty.

Although, it had taken almost forty years, Brittney knew the price a web of small lies, exaggerations and fibs extracted. They quickly wove themselves into a glass wall sealing the liar alone in an isolated world. She had spent years hiding behind such walls and she couldn’t bear the thought of paying that price again. Yet, somehow this bright, congenial company had pulled the thread of deceit from her once more.

Thinking back, she wasn’t sure when her youthful habit of lying had started. She just woke up one day and it was a part of her. Like the color of her eyes or the mole on her left knee, the habit was never sought or planned. It just was. Then eighteen years ago, the walls were shattered as Wanda, thirty years her senior, floated into her life and spread her sheltering, spiritual wing over her troubled soul.

The turning point had come when Wanda dropped by, as she occasionally did, for a glass of afternoon tea. Only that time, she had not called in advance.

“I’m so sorry the house is such a mess,” Brittany apologized with a nervous laugh as the two women stepped inside the door. “The baby was up half the night and I awoke with such a headache.” The truth was that five-year-old Joey had drifted into his parent’s bed around three and mom carried him back to his own room then answered his plea for a drink of water. As for the headache, there was no sign of it until Brittany opened the door to find unexpected company.

“Perhaps I should come back at a later time,” Wanda offered backing toward the door. “I was just in the neighborhood. Next time, I’ll be sure and call first.”

“No, no, calling is never necessary,” she lied again in a voice that sounded too sweet and dripped with fake cheerfulness. “I’m actually feeling better and would welcome the opportunity to sit and visit a while.”

This second statement was only a half lie. It was hard to feel better when you hadn’t felt bad to start, but she really didn’t want to miss the opportunity to spend time with Wanda. She had been drawn to the older woman since the day she came to speak for the young mother’s group at church and was honored that she occasionally stopped by her home. Yet, as they turned to face a room filled with Joey’s toys, a stack of unfolded towels, cast off clothing and dishes left from last night’s snacks, she blushed.

Wanda’s casual acceptance of the chaos surprised her. The older woman settled comfortably in the middle of the mess and—without asking—began to fold the towels heaped on the sofa. After that, meetings between the two women became more frequent and Wanda seemed to look for occasions when they could be alone for a few moments of serious conversation. It might be lunch out or moments snatched when they were both scheduled to work the church nursery or time in each other’s homes, but most weeks, one way or another, Wanda touched her life and each time Brittney left her presence wanting to be more like this confident woman of faith and grace.
It was about a year later when one Sunday morning they were alone in the nursery and Brittney worked up the courage to ask a question that had been burning inside her for months. “Wanda, you often challenge me to believe that all things are possible with God, but have you personally ever faced a habit you doubted even God could conquer?”

Without hesitation she answered, “Of course! My lying tongue!”

Brittany didn’t quite know how to handle that answer. They had talked about spiritual maturity and the need for honest communication, but they had never directly discussed her personal habit and she was shocked to think that Wanda might have struggled with the same thing. The shock and confusion must have registered on her face because her friend began to laugh.

“Eve isn’t the only woman who ever wanted to hide. Lots of folks spend time grabbing fig leaves so they won’t be exposed and, all too often, the leaf we choose is the same one Eve tried: we lie.”

Brittany’s eyes widened. She couldn’t imagine this giant of the faith telling petty lies. Or, big ones either.
Wanda settled in a rocker holding a fussy baby to her shoulder and crooning softly, then as the baby settled, she continued. I guess I have my husband to thank for teaching me to live more honestly and he wasn’t even a Christian at the time.” She smiled at the memory. “Luke just frowned one day and asked why I always exaggerated everything.”

The baby began to whimper again and Wanda dropped the subject long enough to pat the little fellow’s back. At last she went on, “I don’t think I was even aware of how deeply I had drifted into the habit of understating and overstating and outright lying most every time I opened my mouth, but I spent remainder of that day listening to my own voice, then fell on my face and asked God to change me.”

“And God did?”

“Not without a lot of tears! I thought I would die that first week. It was like I couldn’t talk at all anymore. I had followed the old fashion method when raising my kids and sometimes washed their mouth out with soap, but I began to think that there was no soap on earth that could straighten out my crooked tongue.”

“How long did it take for things to change?”

Wanda did not answer right away. She seemed puzzled. “I don’t rightly know. I just remember that at first I would become aware of the lie sometime after I said it. Then, came a time when I would hear the lie AS I was say saying it, but the words came out my mouth before I could change them. After that, the words would be inside me pushing to get out, but I had enough control to choose to say things in a totally honest way . . . at least most of the time.
“When I failed—and I did fail—I would confess and begin again.

“It was like I was taking baby steps, one after another. I fell down and I got up. I prayed and I obeyed. Then, before I realized it, I was failing less and succeeding more often.”

Brittany separated two toddlers who were reaching for the same ball then returned to a rocker beside her friend. “So, you never are tempted anymore to stretch the truth?”

“I didn’t say that. But, I can honestly say it is very seldom. And as I became more honest, I was surprised by another benefit. When I stopped twisting the truth to make me look better, I found a new humility growing in its place. I was less judgmental. Other people, and life in general took on a more positive glow.”

It had been fourteen years since that morning in the nursery with Wanda. She looked around at the professionals surrounding her. For years she had been without the half-truths and small deceptions she once used daily to use to protect herself. Why had she lied now?

You’re afraid. The words came boldly to her mind.

Yes, that was true. After many years of being a stay-at-home-mom she had entered the workforce. The project the team had just completed had been her first and she dreaded the possibility of looking like a novice. She was too old for that.

Too old? The voice seemed to say. She could feel the inner laughter. As long as you are on earth, you’ll never be too old for baby steps!

Be Encouraged:
Are there habits of character you long to change? Small steps taken consistently and giving yourself grace when you stumble can reap big rewards if you don’t give up!

*****

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