Dear friend,
I hope you enjoy this gift box. It comes with my love to you. I am sick and very weak now, so do not write well. I have three granddaughters and seven grandsons and I love them all. My prayer is that they will all come to know Jesus as their Saviour. I believe they have accepted Him, but not all are living for Him. I pray you will accept Him too. I am your new Grandma – I'm 85 years old.
With my love,Honour Muddle
All kinds of people have impacted me through the years. Some are preachers. Some are writers. Others are relatives. And one was a faithful wife and mother with a simple philosophy: When you see a need, meet it.
Ten years ago, when I was staring down the barrel of a job I felt vastly under-qualified for – as editor of Servant magazine – one of the first things I did was ask about 20 retired people to pray for me. Mrs. Muddle was one who said yes. When I met her from time to time in the grocery store or on the street she would remind me that she was praying for me. And a few times she said, “I pray for you every day.”
A few weeks after her beloved husband passed away, she reminded me, “I pray for you every day.”
When her health was failing and she knew her time was short, Mrs. Muddle was praying for me.
One night she called our pastor. Pastor John had been sick for a few days. In fact, a flu bug had laid him out so flat that he could barely enjoy Monday Night Football. “How are you doing?” Mrs. Muddle asked him.
“I'm okay,” he responded, recounting a few of his aches and pains, but trying not to give her an organ recital.
“I just wanted to see how you were feeling so I would know how to pray,” she said. They talked for 15 minutes before John found out that she was calling him from a hospital bed.
I can't read Philippians 2:3,4 without thinking of Mrs. Muddle's example: “Don't be selfish; don't live to make a good impression on others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourself. Don't think only about your own interests, but be interested in others, too, and what they are doing.”
I asked Mrs. Muddle once what helped her during tough times. “Oh,” she said simply, “life is too short to live it for yourself.”
That's the way she lived.
That's the way she died.
Helping people like me run the race.
I'll never look at a jar of sweet pickles without thinking of that one word: Others.
