Lord Make Me Just a Drop of Oil: Not the Whole Can

By Twila Christner

Surely God has a sense of humor or why would He have made us with the ability to laugh? Why, too, has He made it so that a little laughter eases a lot of tension? No, it may not change the situation. But it can refresh and give a new perspective. The daily grind of life can get pretty rough at times and we find ourselves needing a drop of oil in our machinery. "A Drop of Oil" is meant to lighten another's load and provide encouragement thru humor to sooth the friction that comes from the daily grind. Seeing humor in some of these events that I clearly didn't plan, has proven to be just that drop of oil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Mar 27, 2012
• ISBN: 9781449740788

Twila Christner

Twila and Bill (her husband of 35 years) make their home in New Philadelphia, Ohio. They have one son and one daughter, both married. Their two small grandchildren keep them young at heart.

Book preview

Lord Make Me

Just a Drop of Oil

Not the Whole Can

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TWILA CHRISTNER

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Copyright © 2012 Twila Christner.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

ISBN: 978-1-4497-4078-8 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-4079-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4497-4080-1 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012903630

WestBow Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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WestBow Press rev. date: 3/21/2012

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

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Chapter One

An Impression All Right …

but Not the One I Wanted

Martha

Martha and I hadn’t seen each other in twenty-five years. She remembered me as the goofball in school who made others laugh during class. I remembered her as a perfect girl, but one who had a low threshold for laughter. I would entertain those around me with various objects hidden just below the table, where the teacher couldn’t see. Hey, I was bored. It really wasn’t that funny. They must have been bored also. And for some reason—which I will leave to your imagination—my friends were always getting into trouble for laughing. They never reported me as the culprit, though. Perhaps they were too ashamed to admit that what they had laughed at was so trivial.

After twenty-five years, a person should forget things, right? Martha didn’t. She called to tell me she and her husband were coming to see us. She recalled the two little plastic dogs I’d carried in my pencil case and the antics they would perform. My youthful pranks still lived on in her memory! But as I prepared for this visit, I was determined to show her that I had grown up, had children, and become a very mature person.

During our time together, we visited a nearby area that had a lot of Amish shops. One stop was at an older home that had been made into a fabric and novelty store. My daughter, Heather, and Martha went on ahead of me and were in the downstairs part when I came in. Because the Amish do not use electricity, the stairs were pretty dark. It didn’t help any that there was a very dark, heavy set of curtains at the bottom that were designed to keep some of the heat downstairs. In this darkness, I did not see the yellow tape on one of the steps, marking it as shallower than the rest. I missed that step and went flying through the air. There was no railing, and as I flailed in every direction to grab hold of something, the drapes were my only salvation. But they only served as a rope to swing me right out into the room like a monkey. As if that weren’t enough, I landed on a table piled with bolts of fabric. On impact, the bolts flew off the table, and I sat there, stunned. Worse yet, Martha and Heather were right there, facing my direction, and saw the whole thing.

Now, my daughter has grown up with my antics and is often embarrassed by these things. She often says, Hey, that’s my mom. She does things like that! Martha, on the other hand, was immediately out of control with laughter and found the quickest way out of the store.

Heather helped me gather up the bolts of fabric and put them back. As for the curtains, there was little I could do to remedy that. Although the rod had not broken, it was in a sharp V shape with the curtains cowering in the middle.

We made a small purchase from the young Amish clerk, who couldn’t seem to take her enlarged eyes off of me. When Heather and I got back to the van, we found Martha still sobbing with laughter. Our men, who had been waiting in the van, implored us to give them a speedy explanation as to what had happened. I lamely said, Well, I fell, and Martha thinks it’s funny. This remark sent Martha into more gales of laughter. My husband said that Martha had come out and crossed the street weeping so hard that she could hardly walk or talk.

As they tried to pump her for information, asking, Where’s Twila and Heather? she only sobbed more and couldn’t answer. Seeing her crying so hard, they began to worry that we had come to some serious harm.

Only as they started to get out of the van did my husband think to ask, Are they all right?

She managed to squeak out, They’re okay, and went on sobbing.

It wasn’t until sometime later I got the vision of how that had to look in Martha’s and the Amish girl’s eyes. Everything is peaceful and quiet. Suddenly, this woman—a size eighteen isn’t really that small—comes swinging in on a curtain and lands on a table of fabric bolts. Yes, had that been someone else, I’d have been laughing too. So much for proving I was no longer that high school class clown! This made those antics seem dull. Being an artist, I drew up a cartoon of the act and sent it to Martha some months later. She has kept it in her Bible all these years and told me anytime she needs a lift, she takes it out, looks at it, and weeps with laughter all over again. At my expense, I guess she gets a drop of oil now and then that keeps her machinery running smoothly.

Have you ever had times when just a little laughter has helped to lighten your load? One such time occurred when our daughter was in college. She had come home one weekend totally devastated. Some unfortunate circumstances had arisen, and a few people she had trusted had proven not to be true friends. She lay across my bed that evening, telling me all about it. I reached over, took a book off the nightstand, and said, Heather, Lois loaned me this book, saying it might help at times like this. She says it’s really funny!

Heather responded, Nothing, and I mean nothing, could make me laugh tonight.

I said, Oh well, I’ll read some of it anyway, and I commenced reading aloud. I don’t remember the title or the author, but that dear lady had some of the funniest things happen to her. She had taken the trouble to put them into print, and now we were relating to some of them. I read on, and we were soon slapping the bed and laughing until the tears ran.

No, the book didn’t change the situation any. It didn’t fix any problems, but it did help to lift our spirits. At the time, I said, Perhaps that’s why so many unusual things have happened to me. I can tell them to others, and as they laugh at my experiences, it will be a drop of oil in their emotional machinery.

All right, Lord, I accept who You have made me to be. Maybe that unusual, embarrassing episode will help someone under a load. Possibly, some dear lady can find a little humor in those events I clearly didn’t plan. I do accept