Cindy K. Sproles is an author and a speaker, whose dream is to do nothing more than craft words that speak from the heart. God's plan seems to be for her to write and teach the craft. With God’s guidance, Cindy is expanding her horizons. We'll see how He uses her.
Cindy is a mountain gal. Proud of her heritage, she was born and raised in the Appalachian Mountains where life is simple, words have a deep southern drawl, and colloquialisms like, "well slap my knee and call me corn pone" seem to take precedence over proper speech. Apple Butter, coal mining, the river, pink sunrises, and golden sunsets help you settle into a porch swing and relax. Family, the love of God, and strong morals are embedded into her life in the mountains. Teaching writers, spinning fiction tales about life in the mountains, history, and down-home ideas find their way into all she does. “I love to write devotions, to seek after the deeper side of Christ, and to share the lessons He teaches me from life in the hills of East Tennessee. I am a writer. A speaker. A lover of God's Word and friend to all.” This is Cindy Sproles. Welcome home to the mountains.
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Sometimes, you just have to shrug your shoulders and say, “Go figure.” I have no explanation for what has come to pass.
It’s funny how people are. Our greatest intentions can be misunderstood. I suppose that’s why being in continued prayer is important. Every day, I am learning more and more to ask the question, “What would Jesus Do?” Sometimes, I got no clue.
This week, a friend from high school, actually elementary school, sent me a scathing email. I can count the times on one hand in the 47 years we have been out of high school that I have even spoken to her. Inseparable in elementary school turned into nothing in common in high school. We ran in different circles, and I, being the chicken I was, chose not to participate in many of the side activities my childhood friends trampled through. I faded into the background while they became the sought-after kids. Fearless in many ways, but treading paths that, once the glory was gone, left many of them reeling.
I went my way. I made new friends and made my share of mistakes – some of them very harsh, but I could look back on my worst of days and say, “Wow, at least I didn’t do…” Wasn’t that cocky of me? God, in that moment, corrected me and reminded me that though I’d not done some of the things my high school friends had, I was, nonetheless, guilty. And He was right. And so…I learned.
There was little truth in the email this friend sent. Like I said, I’ve probably seen this friend five or six times in 47 years. The incident that was brought to light was a luncheon I held for some of these gals. There was no ill feelings. No underlying ulterior motive, nothing more than trying to rekindle old ties in a new season. Yet, here I find myself some six or seven years later, being raked over the coals.
I can’t say that I understood it. Rather, after speaking to another friend who’d attended, I felt better to know that the things I was accused of were not present. I took this friend’s wisdom to heart. “I’ve learned that the best way to address things like this is with truth. Address it in truth and then let it go.”
What wisdom. Instead of returning an equally scathing email and defending the day, I offered an apology if I’d unintentionally misled or hurt her. Then I, in one line, clarified the truth. As I read the reply, I asked myself, what would Jesus do? How many times had He faced opposition about things that weren’t true or that were blown out of proportion? My guess is that Jesus lost count. Still, at every turn, He replied with truth and in love.
People are funny creatures. We’re the only species in the world that, in our own misgivings, seek to find ways to blame others. It’s never our own undoing, and even more so, we flip a scripture up to justify the means to our end. We carry every hurt to the grave, and even when we say we’ve forgiven the offender, we get in that one last jab that makes us feel good but grieves the Holy Spirit.
And…what would Jesus do? I imagine He’d cry. Perhaps He’d wonder if His efforts, His methods, and His sacrifice were enough. At the least, I think He’d shake His head and shrug.
My biggest apology came on my knees when I asked the Father for forgiveness. If I had indeed hurt this age-old friend, then I laid before Him all I remembered and asked that if I remembered wrong, would
He still find forgiveness? What more can I do?
As I grow older, I’ve done my best to put the childhood silliness behind me. I know I am far from perfect. Actually, I’m way closer to imperfect, and it seems the harder I scratch to get away from that, the further I fall.
You are dear to me. You know who I am even if we’ve never met face to face. You see through my writing, through my personal trials, the imperfect person that I am. But hopefully, you also see the one who stands with her arms stretched upward, asking for the Father to pick me up and hold me. I can’t say that vulnerability says much, but transparency, I think, does.
Today, take time to look openly at your relationships. Understand that none of us can do everything right, but all of us have a direct line to forgiveness. If someone has hurt you in the past, address it in truth and love, forgive, and let it go. Then I think you’ve earned your bracelet – WWJD!
Photo 1 courtesy of www.picaby.com and Clker-Free-Vector-Images / Photo 2 courtesy of www.pickaby.com and CCXpistiavos / Photo 3 no ownership was listed