Remember those moments? That first bite of a luscious dill pickle that dripped juice down your chin and pulled your lips to a full face pucker.
When I was young, corner grocery stores always had a pickle barrel where a dime would buy an afternoon’s worth of sour delight. And every foodie, cook, or grandma knows pickle juice is a tasty addition to many recipes, and the spicy brine can be reused as a preservative.
But as we grow older, even though we don’t suck the juice from those pickled cucumbers, we still have pickle juice moments. Moments that give our lives flavor, humble us, or teach us lessons of strength that linger long after the zing and snap of the moment has passed.
Years ago the Lord allowed one of those p.j. moments in my life. A horrifying and humbling one, but one that served and preserved me.
I worked as secretary to one of the senior partners in a prestigious law firm in Florida. Years before the dictating machine. Years where shorthand was the venue for transcribing one’s thoughts onto the page.
My boss decided to vacation, leaving his work with the CEO of the firm—the Senator. And my worst nightmare became my reality. Up to that moment I’d never even spoken to the man. He was an icon—a genius who scared me witless.
Our switchboard operator (you’ll have to look up the word, takes too many words to describe here, but you’ve seen them in ancient 
movies) would notify me when Senator was on the way down the hallway and I’d dash for the ladies’ bathroom to hide. And I managed to avoid him for three days of that week. Whew!
But one afternoon my friend had taken a break when his entourage arrived.
Senator strode past my cubicle, never stopping or slowing his stride. He instructed, “Miss Nickels, bring your pad.” Terror assaulted my heart and by the time I reached his door (corner office with a view) tears cascaded free-fall down my cheeks. And before I had taken two steps inside he was half through dictating the first paragraph of a letter—before I sat down.
He never slowed down, never looked up, just kept dictating.
Tears made messy puddles on my shorthand notebook and I knew I would be roasted and fired when this moment was over. Minutes, hours later. I don’t know, I heard, “That will be all. Bring them for my signature before 5 o’clock.”
Sobs strangled in my throat. 5 o’clock which day? Which year? Running in the ladies room wasn’t an option. I stood and prayed my legs would carry me to the door before crumbling in pieces.
Senator’s secretary and another senior partner’s secretary stood just outside the door like EMT’s and rescued this scaredy-cat mess of a secretary. These wonderful ladies had recorded every word he dictated and assured me they had experienced a similar event in their younger years and there would be no roasting ceremony today.
They mopped my tears and Senator’s secretary smiled and hugged me again. “My very first week working for the Senator, he called me into the conference room to record a news conference When I walked in that room there were more dignitaries and cameras than my brain could comprehend. I froze. Another older, wiser secretary did for me what we’ve done for you today. Then she shared a trick for surviving future shocks-and-awes.”
The ladies chuckled and Senator’s secretary continued, “If you’re ever in this situation again, just picture these icons of pomp and dignity in their underwear, smoking cigars.”
We laughed, my tears and fears vanished, and I thought of the scripture that instructs, “The older women shall teach the younger women…” I know the rest of this passage has a very different application, but these older women rescued me and taught me a valuable lesson that preserved and carried me through many pickle puckering events in the following years.
However, the Senator’s secretary retired a few months later and a friend of the family took her place. A beautiful butterfly of a lady, totally opposite from his wise and proper secretary of many years.
Late one morning, Senator sent this secretary to Stand ‘N Snack for an early working lunch. She returned with the lunch and spread it before him as he continued his telephone conversation.
Now Stand ‘N Snack made the most wonderful kosher dill pickles, wrapped them in tissue, and packed three of them with each lunch order.
Lorraine pulled the pickles from the bag, unaware the juice from the pickles had dissolved a hole in their tissue wrapper. As she ripped 
the package of dripping pickles from the bag, leverage sent these pickled weapons flying from their wrapper, across the desk, splattering against the middle of this shocked congressman’s forehead, bouncing to his nose, sliding down his tie, and landing on a stack of legal papers, while pickle juice dripped from his nose, drizzled down his chin, and puddled on his tie.
She grabbed napkins, trying to sop up the damage and blot him dry, but the Senator’s always-all- together decorum crumbled. He changed from statesman to little boy whose hands still held the phone, but his big eyes appealed why’d ya do that to me?
No, he didn’t fire her. But his austere attitude vanished after this p.j. moment. And bouncing pickles and dripping juice replaced cigars and underwear in the secretarial pool.
So what did I learn from these p.j. moments? Had I spent as much time sitting before the Lord, pouring out my fear and asking for His strength, as I did stressing and hiding, I wouldn’t have been gushing fear and could have accomplished what I was paid to achieve. God never gives you a job He doesn’t equip you to accomplish—if you trust and obey Him.
I am learning the moment fear attacks to drop and pray. God tells us hundreds of times in the Word “fear not—fear not.” Yet what is the first thing we do? Collapse into anxiety and fear at the first glimmer of change.
Have you ever had a pickle juice moment or been an EMT for a younger employee at work? At home? At school? What p.j. lessons can you share? And how did God add flavor to your life or teach you in that p.j. moment?
“Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!” (Psalm 46:10 NKJV).
“Be anxious for nothing but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God and the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7 NKJV).
Illustrations are by my good friend and edit partner, Katie Meyer. Check out Katie’s work on Tumblr at Legend of Zouzam.
MOVING THE ANCIENT BOUNDARIES 