Stories & Such Archives - Frank Ball

Explosive Moment

Frank Ball — Sun, 15 Nov 2020 06:00:41 +0000

Is the power of a story found in its explosive moment, or might it be somewhere else?

Fireworks are fun.

Back when I was nine, fireworks were legal in town. I separated two dozen firecrackers with their short fuses and filled my cup, ready to light one at a time and throw them into the air. This would be a thrill like none other.

I knew to be careful.

I cradled the cup in my left hand, with the foot-long smoldering stick, called a “punk,” secure between my fingers. As soon as the punk ignited the fuse, I had less than a second to pitch the firecracker and keep it from exploding in my hand. That had happened before, and it hurt. With my right thumb and forefinger, I picked up the next firecracker, lit the fuse, and threw it into the air. A flash of light and a loud pop, and I was ready for the next explosive moment.

This was fun.

One after another, I watched the light flashes and heard the loud pops. As I picked up the fifth firecracker, I tried to manipulate the punk in my hand to touch the fuse.

Boom!

All I could see was blackness, as if I had been thrown into a deep, dark cave. A high-pitched sound was ringing in my ears. For a moment, I was blind and couldn’t hear.

When my sight returned, I stared into the empty cup. All my firecrackers had exploded at once. How close had I come to being permanently deaf and blind? I learned my lesson. Never again would I come close to doing anything like that.

If someone had told me this story, I wouldn’t have had to experience it myself.

Some people think the power of a story is in the explosive moment, but that’s not true. Actually, my story is found in the stupidity of my actions that led to the near-tragedy.

The same principle applies when we share our explosive moments that reveal our need for God. The story isn’t the explosion. That’s just the climax, when the flash of light and the pop ends the story. The power of any story is in the struggle that led to the lesson that will forever change our lives.

Each time you tell your stories, your victory is strengthened and others will learn from your experience and be changed without being hurt by the explosive moment.

What we have seen and heard is too important to keep quiet. — Acts 4:20, The Discussion Bible

The post Explosive Moment appeared first on Frank Ball.

Timmy’s Time Out

Frank Ball — Wed, 15 Jul 2020 05:00:41 +0000

Stories excite people because of what went wrong, not what went right. If we’re willing to expose our faults and failures, our experiences will draw interest and help others avoid the same plight.

Timmy slipped out of the house through his bedroom window. He said to his dog, Shep, tagging along, “Mom said I have to stay in my room. Don’t you go back and tell her I’m gone.”

He grabbed his fishing pole and tackle box and followed the path through the woodlands to the mountain stream. “We’ll be back before dark,” he said. “Mom said this was ‘time out,’ so here we are, spending a wonderful time out.” He pitched the lure across the rapids into the deeper water. “Don’t you agree, Shep?”

“Woof!” the dog barked.

The sudden pull on his line almost jerked the pole out of his hand. Shep’s bark wasn’t in response to Timmy. He had seen the fish leaping out of the water.

“Wow! This one’s a whopper. Wait’ll I show Dad.”

After fifteen minutes playing the line, careful to let the fish run, then reel in the slack, he brought the prize catch to shore—the biggest rainbow trout he had ever seen. “I bet this one’s a record for around here.”

Then he realized he had a problem. After releasing the trout into the stream, he slowly walked home, his head hanging low. He climbed back through the window and stopped at the dresser, staring at the mirror. “I’m sorry,” he said, partly to himself but mostly to God. “I’d like to tell my story, because it has a really great ending. But if I do, I’ll have to admit my sin.”

After admitting our sins and receiving forgiveness, our stories of what went wrong will show the value of following the Lord and striving to do what is right.

Praise be to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, merciful and comforting. He comforts us during hard times so we may comfort others in similar situations, sharing the hope we had in Christ that brought us through. — 2 Corinthians 1:3–4, The Discussion Bible

The post Timmy’s Time Out appeared first on Frank Ball.

Christmas Treasure

Frank Ball — Sun, 15 Dec 2019 06:00:41 +0000

On Christmas Eve, Johnny found the latest edition of the Montgomery Ward catalog, which was thick and heavy enough to use as a door stop. He passed the black-and-white newsprint pages and found the glossy color pictures of toys that he knew were too expensive. But he could still dream.

He dreaded going back to school after the holidays. His friends would talk about all the neat stuff they got. What would Johnny say? “I got a red tractor with a front-end loader to build roads in my sandbox.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, was it? He did have the picture, right there in the catalog.

Early the next morning, he poured the goodies from his homemade stocking into a shoe box. He ignored the apple, banana, and orange and searched through the hard candies, which he only got for Christmas. Mother said candy was bad for his teeth, but he knew the real reason. Candy was too expensive for any other occasion.

He rummaged through the shoe box, looking for a small toy, a puzzle, or a simple game. He found the ball and jacks and stuffed them into his pocket. The sack of marbles was more than he had hoped for. When he opened the wrapped presents, he knew to say thank you for new socks, underwear, and plaid shirt. The pair of hand-me-down jeans meant he wouldn’t have to wear the ones with knee patches to school.

The last gift even had a ribbon and bow. Last Christmas, he got a King James Bible with his name stamped in gold. He had proudly carried it to church, but he never read the words. Would this be another Bible that he wouldn’t read?

As he tore away the wrapping, he found a thick comic book with all the Bible stories. He read it so much that he wore the cover off. That was his greatest Christmas treasure—to know Jesus, who came to Earth, died for his sins, and gave him life.

Wherever your treasure is, there your heart will be also. — Matthew 6:21

The post Christmas Treasure appeared first on Frank Ball.

Walking a Tightrope

Frank Ball — Thu, 01 Aug 2019 05:00:41 +0000

Daredevils take risks that can be fatal, but playing safe all the time is a boring way to live. If we discover the best path to walk, we can get there without the fear of falling.

Daredevils don’t take dares.

They give them instead, by going first, daring others to follow. Curiosity and seeking pleasure took me close to a tragic fall. I broke a toe turning flips off a diving board. Snow skiing, I broke my shoulder. Other than that, the only thing I broke was my pride.

An umbrella worked for Mary Poppins.

As a young teenager, I jumped off the roof to see if an umbrella would work like a parachute. Don’t laugh. It didn’t work for me work for me like it did for Mary Poppins. My umbrella collapsed upward and left me speeding to the ground like a rock. I didn’t bounce, but I rolled, dusted myself off, and knew I wouldn’t try that again.

I’ve never walked a tightrope.

I did walk the top edge of a twelve-foot-long 2 x 10 that supported a homemade swing. One end was attached to the house, the other to a tree. As I approached the middle, the board began to sway. I lost my balance and took a flying leap eight feet to the ground.

Tightrope walkers have shoes with soft soles that let their feet wrap around the rope. I was wearing street shoes, not even tennis shoes. I had easily walked the edge of a 2 x 4 when rested on the ground. The big problem with the 2 x 10 was being so far above the ground.

To conquer my fear of falling, I stepped out again.

This time, I held my arms out straight to help my balance—like I’d seen tightrope walkers in the circus do. When the middle began to sway, I relaxed and didn’t overcompensate. All I had to do was take one more step. Then another and another. When I reached the other side, I knew I could do it again. And I did.

If we have God with us as we take each step, we don’t have to worry about losing our balance. He won’t let our feet slip.

The steps of righteous people are directed by the Lord, and they love to walk with him. They may stumble, but they won’t fall flat, because God will help them up. — Psalm 37:23–24

The post Walking a Tightrope appeared first on Frank Ball.

The Lost Key

Frank Ball — Wed, 15 May 2019 05:00:41 +0000

When searching, do I know what I’m looking for? If so, where do I look? Will I recognize it when I see it? I could be looking for diamonds and throw away a dirty, misshapen million-dollar rock.

The interior of the three-year-old custom van still smelled new. After completing the purchase, I got a single, loose key.

On the way out to dinner that evening, I handed my son the key so he could drive. “Don’t lose this,” I said. “It’s the only one I have.”

After eating, we enjoyed the luxury ride home. Since our other cars needed driveway access from the garage, my son parked on the grass. He was already headed toward the house when I yelled, “Hey, I need that key.”

He pitched it to me.

In the dark, I barely glimpsed the key. I felt it hit my hand but couldn’t see where it fell. I ran my fingers through every blade of grass near where I was standing. Not there. I searched again. Still not there. We pulled the cars out of the garage and turned the headlights onto the area. I widened my search to the point of absurdity. Apparently it had vanished into thin air. “It has to be here,” I said. “But either I’m blind, or it isn’t here.”

Late that night, I emptied everything from my right pocket. I seldom kept anything in my left pocket, but I felt a coin there. How did that happen? How had the key gotten there? Defying what had to be less than one-in-a-trillion odds, it must have bounced off my hand and into my pocket. Unbelievable.

If only I had known to check my pockets, I wouldn’t have lost hours searching in all the wrong places. But who would’ve believed it was possible? That’s the problem with blindness: we don’t always know what we can’t see.

In my searching, I must always have the Lord’s help. Otherwise, I could spend the rest of my life searching but never finding.

“If you were blind,” Jesus said, “you would be blameless. But because you say you can see, you remain blind.” — John 9:41

The post The Lost Key appeared first on Frank Ball.

Uncle Charlie

Frank Ball — Mon, 15 Apr 2019 05:00:41 +0000

When Susie was a toddler, she didn’t understand relationships and kept calling her grandfather, “Unkly Chili.” Ever since, no matter what the relationship was, people always called him Uncle Charlie.

When he turned ninety, Susie brought a birthday cake arranged in three tiers, each with thirty candles. She came with her husband, two sons, and three of her grandchildren. Not everyone from the family was there, but when they sat for dinner, every seat in the house was filled—from the dining room to the tray tables in the den to the coffee table in the living room. The Uncle Charlie stories brought laughter, even though they’d heard them many times—like when he called the police about his stolen car because he forgot he had parked on the street.

After three attempts at blowing out the candles, while the smoke still lingered in the air, Charlie said, “You know, this Christmas, I’ll be leaving.”

“Really?” Susie said. “You just came back from a cruise. Where are you going this time?”

“Where I’ve been planning to go for most of my life. I’ll see all the friends and family I haven’t seen in so long.” He paused, obviously choked with emotion. “I get to see my very best friend. I’m going to Heaven.”

That was Uncle Charlie, a bit too religious. His crazy ideas about God’s sovereignty and perfect plan didn’t always fit with reality. But he was always fun to be around. Everybody looked at him and chuckled, knowing he couldn’t be serious.

Christmas day began with breakfast, a family tradition. William, his sole surviving son, didn’t like eggs, but he ate them that morning, along with the bacon, French toast, and fruit salad. The great-grandkids wasted no time cleaning their plates, because the gift exchange came next—another family tradition. Everybody brought one gift of something they made or bought at a garage sale. It had to be something they would really want for themselves. Each opened present could be exchanged three times. In the end, everyone had a treasured memory.

“Where’s your gift?” Susie asked Uncle Charlie.

“My gift,” he said, “is to have everyone together this one last time.” He leaned back in his recliner and closed his eyes.

The visiting stopped. Susie thought she heard chimes. William felt the ground quake. Trae felt it too, and heard thunder. Janet heard singing in the distance. Everyone looked to see what was happening outside. When they looked back, Uncle Charlie was gone.

The recliner was empty.

Enoch had a daily walk with God, and then he disappeared from Earth to be with God all the time. — Genesis 5:24

The post Uncle Charlie appeared first on Frank Ball.

Never Walk Alone

Frank Ball — Fri, 01 Feb 2019 06:00:41 +0000

Few people have what they would call a “best” friend, someone who understands them completely and appreciates their value. Those who have such a friend may still risk being “unfriended.” When we’re feeling alone, what can we do?

Our choice of friends is limited.

To have friends, we need to be friendly. The Bible tells us that in Proverbs 18:24. Problem is, whether anyone becomes our friend depends on them, not us. It’s their choice after we choose to reach out to them.

Daddy was my best friend.

He wasn’t bothered by my interruptions, but was always eager to make time for me. In fact, he often included me in whatever he was doing. I was only four years old when I helped him nail new wood shingles on the backyard shed.

Helping him was its own reward.

All I did was sit on the roof, pull a shingle from the bundle, and hand it to him. Since he was happy to have me with him, contributing to his work, my feeling of self-worth soared. “You were a tremendous help,” he said, hugging me. Then came an unexpected surprise. He paid me two whole dollars, which in those days would buy 80 huge chocolate bars.

I never refused a chance to go somewhere with my father.

In the winter of 1950, I had just turned five years old when Daddy asked if I wanted to go with him to look for garnets in the hills outside Manhattan, Kansas. I saw plenty of rocks but no sparkling gems, so I wandered off to crouch in a nearby ravine and imagine Indians on the warpath, coming over the hill. I took careful aim with my pointed finger. “Pow! Pow!” Two Indians fell from their horses.

I needed to find shelter from the bitter cold.

My hands and feet were freezing. Our car was the only place to get out of the wind. When I slipped onto the seat on the driver’s side, I noticed the gas gauge. Empty! Feeling very much alone, without any hope of getting home, I cried so hard I could barely catch my breath.

Daddy’s arm around my shoulder warmed my heart.

I didn’t feel the cold air when the car door opened, and I barely heard him ask what was wrong. I pointed to the gas gauge and blubbered something about having no way to get home. Assuring me that everything would be okay, he turned the key in the ignition. With tear-filled blurry vision, I watched the indicator needle move up to show that we had a half-full tank.

Having my father with me made everything okay.

Over 25 years ago, Daddy left me to be with the Lord. I’ve lost many other friends, who had better things to do with their time. I’ve been unfriended, neglected, and betrayed. But I never have to feel alone, because my heavenly Father is the best friend I could ever have.

Be strong and courageous. You don’t have to fear anything or anyone if your Lord God is with you. You never have to be alone, because he will never abandon you. Just don’t you ever forsake him. — Deuteronomy 31:6

The post Never Walk Alone appeared first on Frank Ball.

A Good Investment

Frank Ball — Tue, 15 Jan 2019 06:00:41 +0000

High-risk investments are made with the hope for a greater return. If we forgive an offense, what will we get in return? Maybe nothing. Or maybe the life we save will be our own.

In the Old Days, online stores didn’t exist.

From the day Jess opened his country store, he earned huge profits because of the convenience. Farmers no longer had to take their buckboards thirty miles to get supplies.

Credit cards weren’t available.

Whenever someone didn’t have the cash, Jess wrote the owed amount in his canvas-bound book, knowing he would be paid when crops were sold. At the end of the harvest, bank deposits would be at their peak.

What if there was no harvest?

One spring, the clouds brought no rain, and all the ponds dried up. In the blistering summer heat, farmers pumped water from the few working wells, enough to keep the livestock alive but not enough for planting. At the end of the season, the whole countryside owed Jess a lot of money.

No one had money to pay debts.

Jess had to close the store, now as bankrupt as the farmers who had no crops. What could he do? He forgave everyone’s debts and ran for congress.

He won by a landslide.

Offenses are like debts, because the injured person is owed payment.

If I am offended and think I am owed at least an apology, what would happen if I chose to forgive instead? My debtors might appreciate my gift and speak well of me. They might even elect me to public office.

But if not, I’ve still done well by making it possible for God to forgive the wrongs I have done.

Jesus said, “If you forgive others for the wrongs they have done, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you refuse to forgive them, he will not forgive you. – Matthew 6:14–15

The post A Good Investment appeared first on Frank Ball.

White Lies

Frank Ball — Thu, 06 Dec 2018 06:00:41 +0000

People only tell lies when they think it’s to their advantage. We offer social courtesies because saying what we really think might get us unfriended. Doctors will sometimes slant their prognosis toward what the patient wants to hear. Those who don’t want to take the blame might lie about their involvement.

When does the white lie turn black?

A conference director was looking for a keynote speaker.

For his big event, he needed someone who could address an important topic with a good mix of humor. So he arranged to meet his candidate for breakfast.

This speaker could captivate an audience.

With her perfectly timed humor and truth, she would make the crowd laugh and think at the same time.

Offstage, she used a different talent.

She was quick to make excuses for her lack of organization and planning. Whenever she was late or missed an appointment, she drew from her large bag of plausible reasons. The beauty of her skill was in making her excuses ring true. In a display of frustration, she might complain about her wait for a long train, the unusually heavy traffic, or having to finish an important phone call.

The director sat at the breakfast table, waiting.

Where was she? After another fifteen minutes, he picked up his cell phone to find out. “Are you waiting on another train?” He tried to conceal his frustration by sounding like he was making a joke.

Silence. “Uh . . . I thought our appointment was tomorrow.”

“That’s okay,” he said, somewhat relieved. “We can meet here in the morning.”

“Oh, I can’t,” she said. “I have another appointment.”

The speaker had been caught in her lie.

If she really thought their meeting was tomorrow, she wouldn’t have scheduled a conflicting appointment. That ended the conversation. She didn’t get the booking.

A white lie turns black as soon as someone suspects we’ve not told the truth. But if we tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, we can live with the most honest person we’ve ever known: ourselves.

If bitterness or jealousy rises in your hearts, don’t be deceived. A competitive spirit based on greed, self-justification, and boasting will miss the truth. — James 3:14

The post White Lies appeared first on Frank Ball.

Nowhere to Hide

Frank Ball — Thu, 29 Nov 2018 06:00:41 +0000

Children naturally learn to play hide-and-seek. When they hide too well and can’t be found, the fun is lost. They want to be found. Why do adults want to hide but can’t?

Being the pastor’s son meant I had to behave.

On the front hardwood pew by myself, I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t draw pictures during the boring sermon. All I could do is sit there quietly. What would happen if I squirmed and made the slightest noise?

I had to be careful.

I didn’t want another come-to-meet-Jesus meeting after church. Back home in the basement, I would feel the sting of Daddy’s belt and scream. I never understood why tears were in Daddy’s eyes.

Fun came right after church.

I had already folded two church bulletins like an engineer who knew the best method to build paper airplanes. Immediately after the last song, I tried not to run. I grabbed my buddy and calmly walked down the aisle.

Grinning as if I had already won the contest, I handed one glider to my friend. “Let’s see who the best pilot is!”

My plane sailed like never before, rising high above the steps, and crashing into a lady coming out the door. Oh, no!

I wanted to hide, but it was too late.

Where could I go? People had already seen me and might tell Daddy. Now was a good time to pray.

Some people live in fear that someone will open their closet door and find the skeleton hidden there. They wish their painful past would go away, but the worrisome memories keep bringing it back.

When we want to hide but can’t, only one solution exists: Pray. Admit who we once were, accept forgiveness, and take our spanking if necessary. After that, we can forget the past because now, with God’s help, we’re becoming a new, better person.

If we say we haven’t sinned, we have deceived ourselves by embracing a lie that is far from the truth. If we confess our wrongdoing, he is sure to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. — 1 John 1:8–9

The post Nowhere to Hide appeared first on Frank Ball.