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Summer Awnings by Patty Fitts

4/30/2020

Grace Under Pressure John C. Fitts
   A few years ago my wife and I had been attending a church for about six months and we decided to transfer our membership. After attending the new member’s class we were ready to join. A chaplain colleague and his wife attended the same church and they agreed to be our sponsors and stand up with us on that Sunday.
   After the service he suggested that we go out for breakfast and, after some debate about who would pay, he made it clear that it was his treat. So off we went to a popular restaurant a short distance away, and after a brief wait, were escorted to a large round booth in the back. We settled in, studied the menu, and unanimously opted for the scrumptious breakfast entrees. Then we began discussing what was going on in our lives and with our families.
   We were getting hungrier by the minute and a little impatient when we spied the waiter coming toward us with a rather large tray balanced on one hand and his portable tray table in the other. I am always amazed at how the wait staff handles large orders in a busy restaurant. They either have big trays or plates lined up and down their arm. I was happy my dishes were on a tray.
   As he was maneuvering the table with his left hand to get it in position for accepting the large tray, his body slightly twisted. When he did this, his right hand tilted forward just a bit. He tried to correct the tilt but that is nearly impossible with such a heavy load. Suddenly everything appeared to move in slow motion. I saw the tray tip in my direction. Then it hit. All four breakfast orders came sliding off the tray and into my chest and lap. Keep in mind we are talking about eggs, grits, pancakes, waffles, and all that goes with them. My blue blazer was folded on the seat beside me but it did not escape the onslaught of food. I could only sit and accept my fate.
   I looked up and very calmly said, “Like I told you, Danny, breakfast is on me!” It seemed that everyone around breathed a little sigh of relief as they laughed nervously.

Rose Cottage by Patty Fitts

4/24/2020

The Postman Never Rings Twice by John C. Fitts

The problem we faced was money. Having no job, I had been dependent on a monthly medical disability check from my job in California. We had everything ready for the trip to Birmingham, but needed the check for gas and food for the trip. We prayed that the check would arrive in the mail that day and were waiting expectantly for the mailman to make his delivery.
At about 10:30 that morning we heard the mailman walk up the steps of the house and lift the lid to the mailbox, and then close it. As he made his way toward the next house, we cautiously checked the mail. We hopefully went through each piece carefully, but no check. We were disappointed, but said to each other that we would just have to put off the trip.
Then the doorbell rang. When I went to the door, the mailman was standing there. He said that when he got to the neighbors house, he realized that he had missed a letter for us. He said that this kind of thing rarely happens, but he wanted us to have it right away. There was the envelope that held the check. We praised the Lord and made ready for the trip to Birmingham.
We had been stunned by this event. It had never happened before or since, not to us. It is as if the Lord wanted to see if we were willing to give up the trip and still trust him, without grumbling or complaining. It was this trip that turned out to be the next phase in our journey. Birmingham became the birthplace of our daughter, Jennifer, who was born four months later. Birmingham also became the place of ministry for me for the next nine years. Birmingham also became the rich soil in which our family roots took hold and helped shape our lives for years to come.
All because the postman rang twice.

Palm Springs Morning by Patty Fitts

12/3/2019

The Triple-Filter Test
Author Unknown
In ancient Greece, Socrates was reputed to hold knowledge in high esteem. One day an acquaintance met the great philosopher and said, "Do you know what I just heard about your friend?"
"Hold on a minute," Socrates replied. "Before you talk to me about my friend, it might be good idea to take a moment and filter what you’re going to say. That’s why I call it the triple filter test. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"

"Well, no," the man said, "actually I just heard about it and…"

"All right," said Socrates. "So you don’t really know if it’s true or not. Now, let’s try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my friend something good?"

"Umm, no, on the contrary…"

"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about my friend, but you’re not certain it’s true. You may still pass the test though, because there’s one filter left--the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my friend going to be useful to me?"

"No, not really."

"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither true, nor good, nor even useful, why tell it to me at all?"

Distant Farmhouse by Patty Fitts

6/14/2019

Mud Sitting
Source Unknown
A farmer was out plowing his field one spring morning. The spring thaw had just occurred and there were many muddy valleys in the field. Through one particularly wet place his tractor became stuck in the mud. The harder he tried, the deeper he became stuck. Finally, he walked over to his neighbor's to ask for help. The neighbor came over and looked at the situation. He shook his head, and then said, "It doesn't look good, but I tell you what. I'll give it a try pulling you out. But if we don't get it out, I'll come sit in the mud with ya!"

Grace Drops .... Kindle book on Amazon by John Fitts

2/7/2019

An amazing collection of 52 stories by John Fitts and each one adorned with a different painting by Patty Fitts. At your fingertips, one for every week of the year, or just for looking through for just the right story. This is a collection from over 15 years of work. Enjoy sharing with others. Go to this link and it will take you to the page to make it your own.
Please copy and paste the following link into your URL browser: www.amazon.com/Grace-Drops-John-Fitts-ebook/dp/B01JDDPIEC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1549549403&sr=8-1&keywords=John%27s+Grace+Drops

Roadside Hollyhocks by Patty Fitts

2/7/2019

The Power of Prayer
Author Unknown

A voyaging ship was wrecked during a storm at sea and only two of the men on it were able to swim to a small, desert-like island. The two survivors, not knowing what else to do, agreed that they had no other recourse but to pray to God. However, to find out whose prayer was more powerful, they agreed to divide the territory between them and stay on opposite sides of the island.
The first thing they prayed for was food. The next morning, the first man saw a fruit-bearing tree on his side of the land, and he was able to eat its fruit. The other man's parcel of land remained barren.
After a week, the first man was lonely and he decided to pray for a wife. The next day, another ship was wrecked, and the only survivor was a woman who swam to his side of the land. On the other side of the island, there was nothing.
Soon the first man prayed for a house, clothes, and more food. The next day, all of these were given to him. However, the second man still had nothing.
Finally, the first man prayed for a ship, so that he and his wife could leave the island In the morning, he found a ship docked on his side of the island. The first man boarded the ship with his wife and decided to leave the second man on the island. He considered the other man unworthy to receive God's blessings, since none of his prayers had been answered.
As the ship was about to leave, the first man heard a Voice from heaven booming, "Why are you leaving your companion on the island?"
"My blessings are mine alone, since I was the one who prayed for them," the first man answered. "His prayers were all unanswered and so he does not deserve anything!"
"You are mistaken!" the Voice rebuked him. "He had only one prayer, which was answered. If not for that, you would not have received any of My blessings."
"Tell me," the first man asked the Voice, "What did he pray for that I should owe him anything?"
"He prayed that all your prayers be answered."

Distant Lighthouse by Patty Fitts

9/25/2018

Everyone Has a Story
by Amy Luxford (and John Fitts)

Amy Luxford, a friend and loyal Grace Drops reader, wrote and said that my Grace Drop this past week, “Silent Treatment,” brought to mind a recent story that happened to her. She found, as I have, that everyone has a story to tell, if they can just find someone to listen. She wrote:
   Coincidentally, your message is very similar to my recent experience at the gym. Over the last week, I have noticed a young man coming in a wheelchair. I watch his courageous struggle to transition from his chair to mount the ergonomically designed equipment for non-handicapped individuals. I find myself watching, trying not to stare, in amazement. He humbles me and make my problems seem trivial.
As a Nurse and a Mother, my mind has created multiple scenarios of what placed him in the "chair." The well-groomed young man always seems happy, yet does not engage with the other gym-rats; or maybe the others chose not to engage with him? Like your message, people avoid contact because they don’t know what to say due to feelings of inadequacy and helplessness.
So yesterday, as his motorized chair passed quietly by my workout station, I said, “What’s your story?” He gently smiled and soon Zack and I exchanged a delightful conversation, not just about his degenerative neurological condition, but about life, my job, etc.
As I reflect on your message this morning, “they possess the need of all people and one that I can give, and that is my presence,” I realize, I also need the presence of people like Zack, to remind me of the greatest gifts that God continues to bless me with.

Bayview Shadows by Patty Fitts

5/6/2018

Dangerous Duty

One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed little Patrick standing in the foyer of the church staring up at a large plaque. It was covered with names with small American flags mounted on either side of it. The seven year old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the pastor walked up, stood beside the little boy, and said quietly, “Good  morning Patrick."
   "Good morning Pastor," he replied, still focused on the plaque. "Pastor, what is this?" he asked.
   The pastor said, "Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service."
   Soberly, they just stood together, staring at the large plaque. Finally, little Patrick's voice, barely audible and trembling with fear, asked, "Which service, the 8:30 or the 10:45?"

   This wasn’t so funny during my years of being a pastor. But with new perspective, I thought I would share it with you.

Victoria Drive by Patty Fitts

1/21/2018

Priorities
Origin Unknown

A philosophy professor stood before his class with some items on the table in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly he picked up a very large empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks, about 2" in diameter.

He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks.

He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else.

He then asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "Yes."

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The rocks are the important things - your family, your partner, your
health, your children - things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter - like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else. The small stuff."

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the rocks. The same goes for your life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out dancing. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal. Take care of the rocks first - the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

Snowy Crest by Patty Fitts

12/20/2017

The Secret Santa
By Maryellen Sullivan

   This story occurred when my husband had been transferred from Massachusetts to Florida. We had already had several transfers, and I didn’t want to move again, especially since all my family is in Mass., and I had a job that I loved. We moved away from a small town that was truly a “Currier and Ives” setting at Christmas, from the town Christmas tree decorating to the candlelight processional from town center to the white steepled church. Florida was NOT a Christmasy setting as far as I was concerned!
   About a month before the first Christmas that I had to spend in Florida, a large box with a postmark that I didn’t recognize arrived at my house. Inside was a beautiful balsam Christmas wreath that smelled of all the Christmas’s I’d ever known. No card, no identification to let me know where it came from. It remained a mystery. The next week, a second box arrived with mulling spices for cider, hot chocolate and a note from Secret Santa. A different strange postmark was on this box, still of a town where I didn’t know anyone.
   Week three brought a “Christmas Traditions in New England” book from a third different town.
   Week four brought a candle and “snowman making kit”.
   It took a full year for me to finally discover that my friends at the job I left in Massachusetts got together to make sure I had a New England Christmas. They drove all over the state to mail the box from areas that I wouldn’t recognize, and each one I asked about it innocently denied any knowledge of the “plot” until they all decided to send me a note together. That Christmas left a “warm fuzzy” feeling for weeks, and even now makes me feel so loved and blessed when I speak of it almost 14 years later!
   Thanks for helping me relive the warm fuzzy! Maryellen