"Wise Wife's Bridge to a Place of Discomfort"
By Heber Taylor
The Galveston County Daily News
Published December 21, 2008
A preacher was telling a story about his wife. The Preacher's Wife, maybe feeling her life was shrinking a bit, began to pray that something wonderful would happen, to give her the sense that life, even in middle age, is something that can grow again.
She was praying that she'd be open to something new when she noticed the man on the street, selling newspapers.
Although she was an online reader, she bought a paper. She bought one every day, without fail.
She learned he was a veteran when she brought him coffee on a cold morning. She learned the Old Veteran made $20 or $30 a day selling papers. The money supplemented a disability check.
Some days, she brought him breakfast.
The Preacher's Wife was building a bridge. She was going somewhere outside the place she was comfortable to make contact with another person who looked as if he could use some help.
The Preacher's Wife finally asked her husband if she could invite the Old Veteran home for Thanksgiving dinner.
The Preacher acknowledged he had made a face. It's the face you see on TV when a pundit thinks he's been asked a question that suggests an uncomfortable idea.
The Preacher's Wife did a wonderful thing at this point. She did nothing. She waited on her husband.
Although the Preacher didn't say this, I think the Preacher's Wife had faith. She had faith she had married a good man. She had faith that he would, with time, grow into this new, uncomfortable idea.
It took him a year, but he did. He said, plainly and with no words to soften the harshness of his judgment, that he thought the reason he had been so uncomfortable was that he was selfish.
The Old Veteran came to dinner. Maybe it was uncomfortable. The Old Veteran was in his best clothes when he came to the fine house to eat. It's easy to imagine him feeling intimidated. It's hard to imagine him being comfortable.
All new places in life are uncomfortable. But, as you get used to them, these new places can be exciting, even invigorating. Sometimes, they're rewarding.
So the Preacher's Wife helped her husband build a bridge to a spot outside the place where he was comfortable.
The Preacher told the story as a man who was thankful. It was as if he had been freed from something constraining.
It was a good story about Thanksgiving. But it seemed like a Christmas story, too. It seemed like a good one for a community whose folks need to build a lot of bridges and go into a lot of uncomfortable places if they are going to help each other recover from a storm.
Copyright 2008 - The Galveston County Daily News
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<<===My friend Heber Taylor is editor of The Galveston County Daily News. And he has been my personal editor for my columns and books for fifteen years, maybe longer.
His wife, Dr. Dale Taylor (affectionately known as "The Wise Woman") is a professor of English. -- Bill Cherry
BILL CHERRY REALTORS
DALLAS
Our 44th Year Selling America!
Merry Christmas, Bill,
I like Herber's story.
But, what caught my eye was the nice things you had to say about your friend. We never look so good as when we stand in the reflection of our friends.
Going out of our way to say nice things about nice people says alot about the writer! All good.
Bill
Big Bill --
Heber Taylor is one of the Lord's very special people. He's one of the main reason's I miss Galveston.
About once a month he and I would meet at 8 AM for coffee and scones at cute restaurant near the medical school. It's called the Mosquito Grill.
We'd start telling old Galveston stories and laughing, and then we'd notice almost everyone within ear shot were not longer having conversations at their tables but listening in on our stories. How'd we know? Well, it was pretty evident since they were laughing when we laughed.
And then the owners got all bent out of shape when Patty and I moved to Dallas because Heber and I were no longer there to entertain....I guess customers wanted a return visit. All so funny. But anyway, I just wanted you to know how and why I think so much of Heber.
Thanks for your thoughts...and thanks, too, for YOUR friendship! Merry Christmas!