Don’t Expect Appreciation

Don’t Expect Appreciation

When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. Isaiah 43:2-3

When Carolyn entered medical school, her uncle grumbled that women are more suited to nursing because they were created to be helpers and not leaders. Instead of arguing, Carolyn prayed and studied the Scriptures, looking for examples of strong, godly women. Today, she has a busy inner-city medical practice and is grateful she ran her long-ago decision through the Bible’s filter.

Understanding that we can’t expect appreciation, even from those closest to us, can save us disappointment. I remember the summer I learned that lesson. My husband, Don, and I drove to Kentucky to take my grandparents, Papa and Mama Farley, and Aunt Adah to visit relatives. An eight-hour drive lay ahead, so my grandmother positioned a large lunch basket next to her on the front seat. On top she placed a bunch of bananas, then settled her cane against her thigh, ready for the trip.

Back then, Interstate 75 hadn’t been completed, and numerous detours forced us over winding back roads. Topping one hill, we discovered that a rock slide had covered the asphalt. Don got out of the car after hastily throwing the gear of the still-running vehicle toward Park. Then, as he climbed onto the rocks to survey the situation, the car stalled and began to roll backward.

I was in the backseat between Aunt Adah and Papa, but it was up to me to reach the brake. Breathing a prayer for help, I threw myself over the seat, knocking the lunch to the floor as I lunged toward the brake. When I got the car stopped, it was several feet off the pavement. Beyond was a five-hundred-foot drop and no guardrail.

With the car braked, I looked at Mama Farley. Surely she had some praise for my quick action, which had saved us from severe injury if not death.

But she was busy picking up the lunch. “You smashed the bananas,” was her only comment.

So much for my need to have my efforts recognized. But Mama hadn’t seen the danger and therefore couldn’t appreciate my action. Right then, I determined to worry less about appreciation and more about important goals. —SANDRA

Lord, whether I am following your calling for my career or rescuing others from injury, may my goal be to please you. May I shut out the criticism of those who don’t understand as I wait to hear your appreciative statement: “Well done, my child.”

If the world seems cold to you, kindle fires to warm it.

—LUCY LARCOM (1824–1893), AMERICAN POET