Despair to Deodorant to Dignity

Dignity twisted my face into a phony smile—a little con- torted, a lot deceptive. I was completely out of deodorant and had no choice but to borrow my husband’s.

The bright red container read FresH Sporr. Oh, great, I thought sarcastically. J always wanted to smell like a jock. Truth was, using my husband’s deodor- ant was the last straw.

We were in a financial crisis due to job loss. We had just purchased gas with five dollars and fifty cents in rolled pennies (the nickels, dimes, and quarters were long gone), our phone had been disconnected, we were almost out of food, and now— NOW(!)—I had to use men’s deodorant! “Lord,” I complained aloud, “I am not happy. This is not the abundant life I was expecting.”

My sarcasm was out of control and then evolved into desperation. “Please, Lord, You promised to ‘make a way where there seems to be no way.’ This would be a good time to make things happen—I am at my wit’s end!” My tantrum evaporated into an exhausted hush.

In the marked silence I heard a familiar, quiet voice entreating me to trust and not be afraid. The presence of the Lord calmed me, His reassuring whisper comforted 195 196 FOR THE LOVE OF GOD me. He reminded me that “all things work together for my good” and, in my spirit, I heard him speak of the eternal purposes He was weaving into my nightmare. I rested for a few moments in His peace.

“Honey, are you ready?” my husband called. “Be right there.” We drove the two miles to our local food bank— the one we had supported for years—the same one that had invited my husband to serve on their board _ of directors. Can you imagine?

Talk about a lesson in humility! We both took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The entrance to the food bank was a physical door, but it was also a spiritual door, the beginning of a huge lesson, a God moment.

The director greeted us with a hug. She seemed a little taken aback that we had come in as clients, but her graciousness blanketed the awkwardness.

My eyes brimmed with tears as we filled out the paper work. I could not believe the intensity of the battle that raged between my emotions and my faith. Help me Lord. Help me to be thankful.

Does that sound too simple? I have learned that thankfulness really is a key to coming through a crisis of this magnitude. A desire to be thankful kept me con- nected to my God. My thankful heart testified to my tormented mind that there was, and is, and always will be, a God who loves me—a God in whom I can place my hope.

We left that day with bologna and cheese, hot dogs, beans, and a new appreciation for people who have been stripped of their dignity and pride. Challenges know no boundaries. Despair can target anyone, any- time. And God’s love?

His love upholds, preserves, and restores. We felt encouraged as we drove away, not only with much-needed groceries, but also with a twenty-five dollar voucher for gas!

Later, as I unloaded the groceries, I saw something blue in the bottom of a bag—one lone stick of women’s deodorant. Was God listening, or what? We continued to pray and believe that things were going to turn around. And we were determined to find God’s light in the midst of this darkness.

The follow- ing week my husband was offered a full-time job with benefits. We began to move forward toward restora- tion, and we continue to look back on our lesson in thankfulness. And what about eternal purposes? I realized that as much as our bodies need food to survive, our spirits need dignity.

Using men’s deodor- ant was devastating for this girlie-girl. 1 am now mak- ing plans to start a basket ministry that will provide a touch of dignity for the struggling women who find themselves asking for mercy at the local food bank. 198 FOR THE LOVE OF GOD The baskets will be filled with items such as women’s deodorant, shampoo and conditioner, hairspray, nail polish, lip gloss, etc. I plan to ask local hairdressers if they can offer coupons for free haircuts.

I realize that to provide hundreds of baskets each month on my own will be impossible, but I can supply several. The food bank director can then determine which women need more than just their stomachs ministered to.

Better yet, perhaps other churches and their members will catch the same vision. Despair to deodorant to dignity .. . the way to a thankful heart.