Some would say our dog Jack is spoiled. After all, he eats and drinks out of crystal bowls. At least that’s what it looks like. The truth is far different.

Years ago, Nate was running an errand to Ace Hardware to copy a key. When he returned, he came in all excited, calling for me. “I bought you something!” he said, with a big smile.

Handing me a heavy brown bag, he said, “You’re gonna love these.”

I couldn’t imagine what might come from Ace that I would love, but inside, wrapped in multiple plastic bags, were four glass bowls, each one big enough for a massive fruit arrangement. I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

It was one of those moments when I knew I should share his enthusiasm, but running through my head were all the negatives: Four identical bowls? Giant ones? Where would I store them? How could I use so many? What about the many bowls I already had?

Nate saw my confusion and said, “Glass bowls! I know how much you love glass!”

Still fishing for the right words, I said, “Mmmm.”

He nodded and continued. “And you wouldn’t believe the price! Only two bucks each! If they’d had any more, I’d have bought ’em all!”

Grateful to receive four bowls instead of 24, I finally found something to say. “Thanks so much!”

The bowls ended up stored in a stack on the dining room floor, since the cupboards were already full. Seeing them always reminded Nate of his bargain purchase, prompting him to tell dinner guests how he came to such a fabulous find. Gradually I gained appreciation for the bowls and especially for Nate’s kindness in thinking of me.

When we moved to the cottage with the four bowls, we were squeezing two houses worth of stuff into one and had a bowl-crisis for sure. I asked every visitor, “Want a pressed glass bowl?” For nearly a year there were no takers, but eventually one bowl went to a new home. Eventually Jack got two of the bowls, which left one for people-food-use.

Whenever I fill Jack’s bowls, I’m reminded of Nate. And on the heels of that, I’m thankful I didn’t voice my negative thoughts when he presented the bowls on that day long ago. The fact that I held back had nothing to do with me and everything to do with God’s answer to a long-standing request.

I’ve often asked the Lord to stop me from saying wrong things. He’s done it again and again, sealing my lips in the nick of time. The day Nate gave me the bowls, it was God who kept me from blurting out something that would have hurt Nate’s feelings. Now, each time I see Jack’s “crystal”, I’m thankful, not necessarily for the bowls but that I didn’t say the wrong thing. Had I voiced my thoughts that day, every time I fed the dog, I’d feel awful.

Proverbs 17:28 says, “Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent.” So when I’m thinking like a fool as I was on bowl-gift-day, silence was God’s direct answer to my prayer.

And that’s crystal clear.

“Set a guard over my mouth, O Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips.” (Psalm 141:3)

A friend recently said, “I’ve been reading the blog and gosh, I never realized what a saint Nate was.”

I’m sure he was also thinking, “He wasn’t really, was he?”

If Nate had truly been a saint, we’d all have known it without having to ask. So why does he come across that way in the blog posts? I suppose it’s because I’ve chosen to share only the good things.

Interestingly, that’s easy now. It’s satisfying. In the months since he died, I’ve missed him more than I ever thought I would and have come to appreciate the good stuff anew.

Psychology experts tell us if we’re going to criticize someone, we should first speak out four praises. Thinking I was already doing that, one day years ago I decided to keep track. Sadly, I was woefully deficient in the praise category.

One thing I learned as I kept my tally was that I could improve at praising, if I practiced. I also discovered something else. When I thought nice things about Nate such as, “He looks good in that shirt,” I often failed to speak them out. If I asked God to prompt me to turn those thoughts into words, he would, but of course I had to remember to ask him.

I did learn one foolproof way to go from my spotty performance to 100% success in dwelling on Nate’s positives: hearing the words “terminal cancer.” Just knowing he would soon die was powerful motivation to change my ways. Now, looking back to the time when Nate was healthy and with me daily, I see it was pride that kept me from succeeding at this when I still could have, and it’s pitiful.

I wonder how marriages would change if wives and husbands agreed to make only uplifting or complimentary statements to one another for a week or even a month in an effort to establish new patterns. This would mean swallowing every word of criticism, all desire to change someone. It would mean continually ignoring the bad and highlighting the good… as I’m finding it so rewarding to do these days.

God knew this wouldn’t come naturally and would be hard for us, but that didn’t stop him from urging us to reach for it. When he addresses those in partnership (husbands and wives, soldiers and leaders, brothers and sisters, church members, parents and children, business partners), he urges us to be positive with our words. As a matter of fact, he elevates this to best-possible-activity level, telling us it actually brings him glory when we do it.

After nearly 11 months without Nate, my inner wish is that I could go back and try again. I know beyond all doubt I could do a much better job now, maybe even be 100%. Maybe even

.… saintly.

“May God, who gives… patience and encouragement, help you live in complete harmony with each other, as is fitting for followers of Christ Jesus. Accept each other just as Christ has accepted you, so that God will be given glory.” (Romans 15:5,7)

Nate once gave me a Rolex watch worth $5000. When I later lost it, I felt awful. Twenty-five years ago, the only people who were given gold watches had earned them by working forty years at the same institution. Retirement and the watch came together. I hadn’t done a thing to deserve such a fine gift. As always, Nate had been generous to his wife but not to himself, buying the watch he wished he had, for me. His own watch came from Walmart.

When I tried to think of some way to show my remorse over losing the watch, my only idea was to buy a Rolex for him. But I didn’t work outside our home and had no paycheck. The weekly allowance he gave me worked well to manage our household, but the dollars were all spoken-for. The only answer was to save a little here and there until I had enough.

It took me several years, but the day finally came when I counted $2500 in my plump envelope of bills. I drove to Peacocks Jewelry Store feeling like a Depression-era child finally able to buy her dream bicycle.

As the salesman spread out the few Rolex designs my money would buy, I chose the one that most resembled his cheaper watch, but of course this one would be a real Rolex. Before I left the store, I asked if they could engrave something on the back:

“I’ll love you till the end of time. Your Meg, Christmas, 1985.”

Although men are often difficult to buy for, I couldn’t wait for Christmas morning. When it finally came, my gift was the hit I’d hoped it would be. Nate was dumbfounded when he saw the Rolex box, then delighted all over again to find I hadn’t just used my empty box for something else but had put the real thing inside. When he turned over the watch and saw the message, he was grateful for my expression of timeless love.

God also testifies of his deep love for us with an engraving. He’s carved us on his palms. In an effort to impress us with the depth of his loving bond, he compares a nursing mother and her baby to his relationship with us and asks, “Can a mom forget her nursing child?”

I nursed all my babies. When I’d go out for an evening, leaving the baby at home, my body would continue to produce milk just as if the baby was consuming it. Sometimes so much milk accumulated that when I got home, I’d pick up my sleeping infant and coax him or her to have an unscheduled meal, just to relieve the pressure. For this reason, no nursing mother can forget her baby.

The Lord says he feels that way toward us, saying even in the unlikely case a nursing mother should forget, he never will. To prove it, he engraved us on his palms.

Nate’s watch has been set aside now. I still love him but only from afar. The good news about God’s engraved promise is that his love doesn’t have a stopping point. He won’t ever abandon us, become disinterested or forget about us.

Not ever.

“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.” (Isaiah 49:15-16)