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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Deep and Wide or Sick and Tired?

12/18/2023 5:40:00 PM BY Cindy Sproles

I was recently reminded when our minister, during his sermon, sang a quick verse from Deep and Wide. You remember that song from Sunday School, don’t you? I loved it as a child, and when my kids were small, seeing who could out-scream the other while singing the song led to my current need for hearing aids. The point is, it was such a fun little song. A sweet memory.

The song has tumbled around in my head ever since. I’ve had this sinus infection/crud for almost two months, so, I’ve changed the words from Deep and Wide to Sick and Tired. You know:


 Sick and tired. Sick and tired. I’ve blown my nose until it bleeds.                                                                                               Sick and tired. Sick and tired. I’m sick and tired of this cold.

Apparently, I’m not the only one who’s fought this battle of Kleenex and over-the-counter meds, either.  Seems tons of folks are singing my revised version of Deep and Wide. Still, I keep on dragging through the day, doing what needs to be done, hacking and blowing, and occasionally dropping onto the couch for a Rip Van Winkle time.

In fact, when the Prince finally came down with the crud, I moved into the guest room, vowing not to return to my own bed until I could go a few hours without hacking or blowing my nose – and right here at Christmas.

That brings me to my point. Despite the crud, I have much to be joyful about. For example, God’s provision. The Prince’s meds are $900 a month. Quite a sum on a small retirement pension, but while we were incarcerated at the UT MED CENTER when he had that life saving surgery this summer, we met up with a sweet gal named Tabitha. Now, Tabitha came to us through UT Med so I can say our incarnation was not all bad. She took hold of Tim’s meds and said, “I’ll get these for you at no cost for the remainder of 2023.” And low and behold, SHE DID.  So, as we sat staring at the oncoming of 2024, we wondered, if this blessing was a one shot wonder.

We began to pray, Lord, provide. And what happens, but a text from Tabitha, then a phone call, and then an acceptance letter from the pharmaceutical company approving the Prince for 2024. No cost. Well, that made me cry.

Then, we got a letter from UT that said, oh, by the way, the insurance didn’t pay this final $1200. I nearly hit the floor. I sent a note to a couple of my true prayer warriors, and they began to pray. We prayed. Friday, I picked up the phone to call UT and see if we could make payments on that $1200. Here’s how the conversation went:

“Can you give me that account number again?” (computer keyboard typing sounds)

“I’m sorry, Ms. Sproles. May I put you on hold for a minute?” (never a good sign when they want to put you on hold, but I said yes.) In the meantime, I thought I’d throw up. Would they come back and say the $1200 was a mistake…it was really $12,000? Our minds always go to the worst first.

But in a few minutes, the gal came back and said, “I can’t explain this, Ms. Sproles. Did you contact the insurance company?”

“No, I just called you.”

“Well, we didn’t either. But apparently, the insurance company reopened your claim this week (notice she said, THIS WEEK), and there is a note that says, “Insurance should have paid.” They cut a check, and your amount is paid in full. It beats me.”

I burst into tears. “It doesn’t beat me,” I sobbed into the phone, “We’ve just had a THREE KINGS MOMENT. We’ve been praying that God would provide because we didn’t have that kind of cash. God has provided. God has provided.”

The girl was quiet, and then I heard her sniff. “Merry Christmas, Ms. Sproles.”

“Merry Christmas, indeed,” I said.

Twice this past week God provided.

I’ve been rewatching the first two seasons of “The Chosen,” and despite those who advocate against Dallas Jenkins in this production, I cannot personally deny how soul-touching it is for me. I watched the episode about Nathaniel. Of course, they take creative license, but their creativity is not so “out of the park” that it couldn’t have happened. And in this scene, Nathaniel fails in his dream job. The one job he’d long to do since he was a child – and he failed. He sits under a fig tree and calls out to God, “I did this for you! Do not turn your face from me at my time of need. Do you see me?”

I must admit, this scene resonated with me this past week as I cried out to God to provide. Please do not turn your face from me. Do you see me?”

In the next few minutes of this episode, Nathaniel meets Jesus and Jesus says to him, “When you were under the fig tree, I did not turn my face from you.” Nathaniel is stunned with disbelief. Jesus goes on to tell him, “I saw you, Nathaniel. I saw you.”

To say that I turned my head into my pillow and sobbed is an understatement because, at that moment, God spoke to me. “Cindy, I did not turn my face from you. I saw you.” He did hear and see me, and in His loving kindness, God provided for us.

We take so much for granted. Our worlds consist of making provisions for ourselves, and we miss the moments when the car battery didn’t turn over on the first try but did after the third. We overlook the meals we enjoyed at home with family because we couldn’t go to a restaurant or the tender, unexpected card we got in the mail when our hearts were sad. The moment we find the keys we misplaced in just the nick of time. We miss so much, and even when we do, God does not turn His face from us.

I am so far from being what He calls me to be and I’m learning that in every breath, He sees me. In every failure, He sees me. Every success, He sees me and smiles. God sees me.

Despite my ongoing cold, I’ve decided not to change the words to Sick and Tired. Instead, I will sing to the top of my lungs (my children taught me well):

Deep and wide. Deep and wide. There’s a fountain flowing deep and wide.                                                        Deep and wide. Deep and wide. There’s a fountain flowing deep and wide.

Photo 1 - Image by 12138562O from Pixabay; Photo 2 – Image by WOKANDAPIX from Pixabay; Photo 3 – Image by David Gonzalez from Pixabay; Photo 4 – The Chosen Logo, Angel Studios



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