The Witch Hunt of Judgement

My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry. James 1:9 NIV

I recently finished Beth Moore’s memoire, All My Knotted-Up Life. It stirred me in ways that she probably didn’t intend, but it moved me to speak out. I listened to it, and suggest you read it instead. Have a highlighter close by.

What moved me was how those who claim to love Jesus Christ – Who commands us to love one another – can so quickly take up pitchforks, erect stakes, and lay sticks for a bonfire to burn one of their own, in public, mind you. All because of politics. All because one had a mind of her own. One who had been deeply damaged by sexual abuse as a child and in spite of everything dedicated her life to helping others.

I’ll admit. All the years that I saw Beth Moore’s studies and books in Lifeway stores and heard about her huge conferences, I had no idea what she suffered during that time. I figured she had a easy, beautiful, exciting, life. One of study, fame, and travel as she rubbed shoulders with giants of faith.

But that wasn’t the case.

All the while she studied, wrote, spoke, and taught, she was navigating the damage done to her as a child, her husband’s bipolar episodes, and his brush with death that lasted three years. While she served, she also raised her daughters and cared for her husband. In all of this she stayed true to the Southern Baptist rules about a “woman’s place” in ministry.

And then came Donald Trump’s transcript of a conversation with Billy Bush. In the transcript, Trump spoke of an unnamed woman whom he tried to seduce, it didn’t matter to him that she was married, and in the conversation he said, “Grab ’em by the p*ssy. You can do anything.” This triggered Beth’s trauma and her righteous indignation. She had helped countless women who also suffered from sexual abuse. To add insult to injury, “godly” leaders in the church dismissed it with “That’s just locker talk. Boys will be boys.”

I wonder, what if the women who used these excuses found themselves or their daughters being groped, would THEY be so dismissive? Would the “godly” men accept their wives or daughters being groped and joked about? If they did accept this form of abuse by power, they have no right to claim they love like Christ.

But it doesn’t end there. When Beth Moore tweeted her indignation about Trump’s statement, these “godly” leaders and laypersons attacked Ms. Moore’s ministry, relationships, her marriage, and her personally. I remember the backlash and was ashamed to be aligned with people who called themselves Christians. The people who attacked her to her face, through the mail, and on the phone, were vicious. Their insults were unjust and manic.

All of the above to say this, we NEVER KNOW what another person is going through. We may envy someone because it seems they live a charmed life, but in reality, this person may be walking through a fiery hell and yet refuse to let it defeat him or her. Ms. Moore loved people too much and she had to work to support her family while her husband was incapacitated. And the “godly” people emotionally burned her at the stake, they stoned her like Stephen, they did everything but love her.

Remember this, love isn’t an emotion. Those of us who are called to love like Christ, Agapo, need to remember the definition of this kind of love which is to love unconditionally and sacrificially as God Himself loves all persons. I saw none of this in the “godly” men and women who carried verbal pitchforks and blazing torches. What a horrible representation of God’s love was made by those who serve him.

In this shameful time in history I am reminded to make sure my pockets are empty of rocks and to carry the water bucket of mercy in honor of the God I serve.

Significance

The key to realizing a dream is to focus not on success but significance ~ Oprah Winfrey

Have you ever had a moment when the clouds of your thoughts parted and an epiphany ray blazed through? This happened to me when I read this quote by Oprah Winfrey. It is a truth that has laid below the surface of my consciousness for years. A truth that has motivated me without my knowing or understanding. A truth that, had I understood it, would have set me free years ago.

Since the time that my writing went from being a hobbyist to a serious writer, my focus was on success. I attended writer’s conferences and listen to keynote speakers who had made it to the top. I wanted that for myself. I sought credibility through publication, being on a list somewhere, making a lot of money, winning major contests, anything to get my name out there.

I’ve been published, so there is that. However, my last royalty check breakdown showed that I made eleven cents a book which sold for $24.99. Not gonna get rich like that. And when I search my name on Amazon, it is almost like, Linda Apple? The artist? To which I shout at my computer screen, “NO! Linda Apple the author!”

Yep, I thought my name was unique. It isn’t.

I have wanted to quit writing sooo many times. But I couldn’t. Something drove me on. I love people and my ideas for them flow from somewhere in my being and I enjoy helping them be successful. Plus, it is my goal to have a positive impact on my readers in hopes that their lives will be enriched and better for having read my books. Still, I have sought credibility, name recognition, something that didn’t say, “Linda who?”

And then it finally happened. I realized I’d been the one asking, “Linda, who?” When I read that quote, it dawned on me that I’d been reaching for the wrong thing all these years. Instead of focusing on success, my focus should be on being significant. I’ve realized my dream and been fulfilled when I used my strengths and talents to make this world a better place. This has always been my delight. I didn’t realize it because I’ve reached for other writers’ successes.

To be significant is to have left a positive footprint on humanity, an impact for good, that will last long after having left this earth.

Let’s all search for significance.

Hi Daddy! It Snowed!

My daddy and I LOVED snow. Ever since I was a toddler all the way up to adulthood, Daddy and I played in the snow. When my husband and I moved from my hometown, the excitement—and sometimes envy—didn’t change. Snow in Arkansas is a rarity, so when it snowed at Daddy’s, he’d call to brag. I’d do the same. Snow was one of our common bonds.

January, 2020, Daddy passed away. I feel his absence strongest when it snows. I long to pick up the phone and share our common excitement. So today, after five inches of snow fell overnight, I walked around the lake and let my memories take me back to him. So much so, that I held my phone to my ear and said, “Hi Daddy! It snowed! Warm tears streamed down my cold cheeks. Snow flurries started to fall and I had a good, cathartic, cry.

There is a song that has a line in it that says, “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone…” My dad wasn’t perfect. He had many challenges. But, just as snow makes even the most broken down structure look beautiful, love does the same. I loved him with every fiber of my being. I still do. And I’m glad I took every opportunity to not only tell him, but show him too. And just as important, he did the same for me.

I’ll always have Charles Diehl in my soul, but when it snows, I can also touch him.

Rotting Fruit

There is truth in the saying that history repeats itself, therefore, I suppose the significant crack in humanity we are experiencing today is nothing new. Still, in recent years the increased vitriol negativity and darkness of souls is disheartening and frightening. Especially among those who claim to be God’s channel of love. The spirit of unkindness, suspicion, judgement, anger, and yes, even hatred is darkening some of these souls as well. Social media, opinion radio programs, and so-called network news —which are nothing more than talk shows slanted to a particular political leaning—are dividing our nation, families, friends, and affecting us in the workplace and houses of worship. Those of us who claim to reject worldly things are not immune. Below is a small example, but recently relevant.

I’m giving a very brief sketch of an unnamed person most of us are aware of, but do not know personally. All we know about this person is what we read or hear. I did a little research on this person from verified information. After you read it ask yourself how you feel about this unknown person.

• Began volunteering in soup kitchens in their teens
• Earned a double major bachelor’s degree, one being International Studies
• Has a major platform and uses it to bring awareness and help for people at risk and the marginalized
• Volunteers in a program to help underprivileged teens to better fit in at school
• Donated food to community meals programs
• Campaigns, volunteers, and donates to clean water projects for poverty-stricken countries
• Devoted to spouse and a loving parent

These attributes speak of a solid citizen. And yet, the other day someone said, “I can’t stand _______, can you?” I replied, “I don’t know. I’ve never met _________.” I read comments by people who proclaim the love of God, calling this person manipulative, evil, dishonest, and a gold digger. And when this person tried to tell their story to dispel all the lies written about them, this person is considered disrespectful, even a liar.

I expect this kind of behavior from some, but certainly not from those who proclaim Christ. No one in my acquaintance or network of friends, personally knows … Megan Markle.

Some conservatives might say, “Yes, but…” and proceed to list of what they consider her faults. These same conservatives will defend Melania Trump and excuse her past indiscretions. Some liberals are quick to condemn Mrs. Trump, but will defend the Duchess of Sussex.

This is a very small example of the darkness, the myriad differences in politics, the out-of-control slander that is spewed into our souls daily. Some proclaim hateful things under the guise of humor on our social media. They write things about people that they would never say to their face.

But, what about those of us who claim to be channels of God’s love? Those of us who received Christ’s two commands, His only two. Love God, and love our neighbors.

I know it is tempting to be a part of this unrest. Our emotions are stirred in unhealthy ways. However, before we chime in on this darkness, remember this:

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

These fruits are for us to live, not impose on others. When we allow this fruit to direct us, our part of this world will guided by Christ’s commands.

#Discovery

Moses spent forty years thinking he was somebody; forty years learning he was nobody; and forty years discovering what God can do with a nobody. ~ Dwight L. Moody

Every January 1st, I spend the morning communing with God. During this time I wait for a word to focus on throughout the coming year. Since 2019 the same word has repeatedly come to my mind. TRUTH. So, for the past three years I’ve examined myself including my beliefs, convictions, opinions, and attitudes. It has been a long, arduous, confusing, and often scary process. I have struggled to let go of things I once clutched tight in my soul. I’ve questioned myself, and challenged my beliefs, leaving me feeling raw.

What made this process difficult is that I really didn’t know myself. for the past three years, I’ve gone through a process much like what Dwight L. Moody said. The insecurities I developed early in my life fueled my desperate desire to fit in. My personality makes it easy for me to conform. Therefore, over the years, I made myself into a somebody—only that somebody wasn’t really me. In fact, I didn’t know who the heck I was. I copied and fashioned myself to be like the people who I envied and admired. The only time my true self surfaced was when I helped people. I’ve loved people since childhood. I’ve always had amazing ideas for others and have always been their cheerleader, helping them realize their potential. It is so strange that I couldn’t do that for myself. My core values worked through me without me realizing it. Sometimes, my true self broke through when I wrote, except for the times I was copying someone else’s style or chasing a trend. Even so, I didn’t recognize it.

TRUTH, has been a good and necessary word for me. However, this New Year’s Day I was given a new word—DISCOVERY. For the past three years I’ve plowed the field of my spirit and soul with truth. I’ve removed most of the rocks and roots that have masked my true self. It is time for me to discover who I truly am, to know my path—not someone else’s, no matter how successful they may be. My false somebody mentality is stripped away. I’m a naked soul, about to discover Linda Lowe Apple. I’m curious to discover what God can do with this nobody.

Getting to the Core of Me

Since I began writing, I’ve chased the dream. Maybe I should say dreams. All writers, whether we admit it or not, want to be published, to win notable awards, be on a list, to make enough money from our book sales to quit our jobs and live a lavish lifestyle, to have a huge fan following, to have movies and television series made from our books, and to be in demand.

We read books by the VERY few who can claim the aforementioned dream and think, what I write is just as good as this, even better than this!

I want to know, when is the writer fairy going to fly into my office and tap my head with her dust of success?

Many times, I’ve wanted to quit. But I can’t. I must write my stories, my thoughts, on paper or the screen. If I don’t, my head will explode. My characters will drive me crazy with their demands to be heard. Characters can be such pesky creatures.

During a particularly low time, I heard a podcast that held up a mirror to my soul and made me ask, “What would I do if that fairy did bonk me on the head? How would my life change and would I like the change? Even more, would it satisfy me as I imagined it would?”

This question challenged me to look inside myself. Who am I, really? So many years I’ve defined myself as a daughter, a student, a friend, a wife, mother, and now a writer. But these are things I do. It’s not so much who I am. And unless I know that, then I really cannot be fulfilled, even by success.

I know my core values. I believe I was born with them because I’ve practiced them since I was a small child. I’m compassionate, encouraging, lover of people, kind…most of the time…and I like to help people realize their value. I’m driven to validate them and cheer them on. This is evident in all my writing no matter if it is nonfiction or fiction, in my workshops, and keynotes.

The truth of the matter is, even if I never make the NYT Bestseller list or win a Pulitzer, even if my fan base could fill a mini-van and have a seat left over, even if I only make enough money to get my meal supersized at McDonald’s, if what I write fulfills my core value by helping the  people who read my books or listen’s to my presentations…hey, I win!

I need to keep reminding myself of this. And as I keep this truth in my mind and am faithful to fulfill it, my space will expand. In fact, it already has! I’m being inducted into the Arkansas Writers Hall of Fame for my contribution to other writers. Yes!

No fairy dust needed.

Thoughts From My Front Porch Swing: Choosing My Battles

I love watching birds. I enjoy feeding them and seeing them flit about. What I don’t enjoy is glaring at squirrels emptying the feeders with lightning speed. Darned day rats! I’ve spent a lot—a lot—of money on squirrel proof feeders. But the birds seem to prefer the only one that isn’t squirrel proof. So every day I check out my window, or sit in my swing, watching for those pesky intruders.

Until one day…

While I sat on my swing, toeing it back and forth, sipping tea, it occurred to me. I cannot change and will never change a squirrel’s behavior. It is only an exercise in frustration and futility. So why not move the feeder they prefer to a place away from the others, fill it with cheaper seed, and let them go at it? That way I could also watch their funny antics as well as my lovely birds. So that’s what I did.

Funny thing. The birds now raid the squirrel’s feeder. Payback.

This battle with these fluffy-tailed rodents reminds me of all the Facebook wars I read every morning. And every morning I ask myself why? Why worry about changing another’s opinion? Why get flustered? Offended? Defensive? Angry? My comment isn’t going to change anyone’s mind. It is better to just move on with my thoughts and let them have theirs. Perhaps I’m more sensitive because of the multiple deaths in my family last year. Life is precious. Life is short. As members of humankind, we have many other things on which we can agree. So why not focus there? Every morning we awake is a gift. Why fill it with offense?

My advice? Move the feeder. Just keep scrolling.

Thoughts From My Porch Swing: Love?

Wow. It is March and I’m still processing the election of Joe Biden, the behavior of Trump and his followers, January 6th storming of our nation’s Capitol, and all the fear, anger, even hate on social media outlets. Again, wow.

I lost both my parents in 2020. My dad died from heart trouble due to his COPD. He was 92. My mother died six months to the day later. She had three kinds of cancer—we had no idea. She was 86. My husband’s brother died two months later from Covid 19 complications. He was 62, So, naturally, I’ve been contemplating the mortality of mankind quite often these past few months, which leads to asking myself, How do I want to spend my days and what do I want to look back upon at the end of them?

For the past two years people I’ve known and respected for decades have behaved in a way that, considering their professions of faith, is just the opposite of those professions. Doubt, fear, worry, anger, bitterness, distortion of the truth, and even hate is all over their social media platforms. Where are the fruits of the Spirit? Where is the love? Joy? Peace? Patience? Gentleness? Goodness? Kindness? Faithfulness? Self-control?

To be honest, I cannot judge anyone. During Bill Clinton and President Obama’s elections, I’m ashamed to admit I acted in the same disappointing way.

I’m sorry that it has taken six decades for me to realize my shortcomings. Even though I’ve been a follower of Christ for over forty years, during the past five years I’ve sensed something wasn’t right. Therefore I re-examined his teachings from all angles. I’ve studied the culture during the time he lived on earth. I’ve examined key words and phrases in the Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic. Why? Because it is impossible to understand an ancient middle-eastern mentality with a modern western understanding. What I’ve learned is liberating. I discovered that a lot of the theology taught to me was smeared with man’s fingerprints. However, one teaching was pure, unchanging, and consistent over the centuries and that was the message of love. Agapao. Agape. Love is to esteem, cherish, favor, honor, respect, accept, prize, relish, devotion, to value. In the past I’ve felt that I could not express all, or even one of these elements for certain people. But, really, if I am to follow Christ’s teachings, I really did not have a choice, did I?

Love is the lens I want to look through. I don’t want to be a means for causing fear, spreading dissention, repeating falsehoods, and hate for any reason on any platform. Life is too short to be so angry, resentful, and fearful.

My mother spent her last days in my home. While she could still sit in her wheelchair, I pushed her to the porch every morning and afternoon. Sitting there, silent, with her eyes closed, hovering between two worlds, she always had the sweetest smile on her face. That is because she spent her healthy years focusing on loving others. Yes, she had to work through and overcome difficult situations and people like we all do. But her delight was in loving people and her God. That is what I want for myself every day. To sit on my porch swing and smile because I focused on love, gratitude, and the beauty of God and his creation.

Politics have given rise to many false prophets. I think back to what Christ said in the book of Matthew about how religious people declare, “Did we not prophesy in your name? In your name did we not drive out demons, and perform many miracles?” His answer? “I never knew you.” He is love. When we separate ourselves from his message of love, we are merely clanging symbols drawing attention to ourselves, our prejudices, and wanting our way. Even when we have a justifiable cause, how we go about justice often weakens our effectiveness. Essentially, we either believe God or we don’t. We either do things from love or we don’t. Sadly, we’ve made the name of Jesus into an idol of our red, or our blue allegiances.

From what I see on social media platforms, many hours are filled of people being offended, fearful, frustrated, defensive, angered, and downright mean-spirited. Such a waste of the soul.

Jesus said, “By their fruits you will know them.” Each day I start my examination of spiritual fruit with the woman in the mirror. Why? Because I so often fail and I’m reminded to give grace to those I meet on a daily basis either on the street or the screen.

I want to live in a way that I can sit on my porch swing and smile.

Moments

Yesterday, January 17^th, marked the one-year anniversary of my father’s passing from this life.

It was a somber day of reflecting. I remembered how all human vestiges of his ever being present on this earth was given away or donated. My children took mementos of their PawPaw and it gives them a connection and comfort. These mementos may be passed to their children who remember PawPaw, but as time goes on these cufflinks, newspaper articles, certificates, will, most likely, lose meaning, lose value, and will disappear. It is sobering to think that the sum of our lives on this earth is so easily disposed. Passed on to strangers, handed down to family. Swept from sight. Gone. No footprint on life.

But Daddy did leave a footprint. It is on my heart and the hearts of my children. My love Christmas is largely because of him. What a delight and comfort it is to this very day when I indulge in my memories of Christmases past. Mid-December we put up our artificial silver tree in the living room of our house on 1428 Neptune Street in Mexico, Missouri. We decorated it with red balls and then perfectly positioned a “color-wheel” next to it. Next, we’d bundle up, walk to the street and admired how it looked through our picture window. We finished the evening out with drinking eggnog and singing carols along with Bing Crosby.  

Another tradition I loved was visiting the town square to admire the store windows. Santa Clauses rang bells on every street corner. Dad and I tried to decide which fellow was the real Santa. These moments formed me into a Christmas traditions lover, and they have also formed the same love in some of my children, which in turn has formed in some of my grandchildren. No doubt, this love of tradition will also be passed down throughout the generations, thanks to Dad.

He reveled in family gatherings. Especially if there was good music to sing along with and to dance. He told stories of his childhood that both inspired and gave way to full-on guffaws. We barbequed in the summer, ate watermelon under black walnut trees, and enjoyed peanuts in RC cola while riding down dusty back-country roads of Vilonia Arkansas.

Moments. Simple things. Things of life. Treasures.

Not to say all moments were good. Dad was human and he suffered crushing failures that broke him over time. Failures that came from a huge corporation that opposed him. He, along with his brother, invented a device that proved to save significant money on natural gas bills. The aggressive measures taken by the gas Goliath against the Fuel Save Corporation, even made the newspapers. I guess you could say they were one of the first “green” inventors, quickly silenced by big money.

The other enterprises my father embarked on failed because dramatic drop in beef prices and because of a political embargo on soybeans. Both of these situations cost him everything. Still, he soldiered on. Even as life grew more disappointing, he focused on celebrating family and sweet life-experiences.

This should be our focus: Laughter, love, exploring nature, music, appreciating beauty, reaching out to each other, indulging in conversation both light and deeply intimate. These are gifts that will live in the memories of those we love and will be shared with those they love in the future.

These are the treasures we must seek and hide in our hearts.

RIP Daddy. Thank you for giving me such rich treasure. I miss you.

Late Bloomer?

To Everything There Is A Season…

My backyard is a forest of beautiful trees. But at the edge stood one that I thought was dead and I didn’t like how it marred the view, so I planned on cutting it down. That is until the other morning when I looked out my window and was surprised by what I saw. Long after the other trees had leafed out and their spring green leaves had deepened to a mature verdant, this little tree’s buds began to swell and open. In a few days I noticed how this late bloomer stood out from its fellows. Its bright young leaves were distinct against the dark green canopy.

This image reminds me of my inward struggle when I first began to write. I got a late start and felt I was too late to be considered a serious or professional author. My prose felt ugly amidst the beautiful writings of my fellows. Even so, I didn’t give up. Over time, clarity came and defined in me my place in the writing world. I feel sure that one day, I will be like this little tree and stand out among my peers.

What are your goals? Your hopes and dreams? Do you feel like a late bloomer? Well, good. That means that one day, if you don’t give up, you will stand out and be noticed!