The Power of Attitude—Grace in Action

A Breath of Fresh Air

Yesterday in Dallas, we gathered around a hospital bed to support a sister during her surgery (and her husband, during the waiting).

Amid the usual professional, mechanical rhythm of hospital efficiency, an unexpected light burst into the room. In swept Sharon—a bright, engaging, and effervescent nurse—who made a beeline to the husband. With a radiant smile, she proclaimed, “Hello, my name is Sharon, and I am your liaison nurse. That means throughout this entire process, I will answer your questions, contact the doctor and OR staff, and keep you up-to-date so you’re not left worried or wondering about what’s going on!”

Sharon then asked the typical questions—name, date of birth, etc.—but with such exuberance that even routine details felt like a warm conversation. She explained the hospital’s color-coded monitoring system and the expected timeline for the procedure. Before stepping away, she handed over her private cell number, offering, “If you have any questions along the way, don’t hesitate to call me.”

What a breath of fresh air!

In a world often reduced to sterility and routine, Sharon was anything but. Her Southern charm, sprinkled with pet names and warm endearments, set everyone’s heart at ease. She made us feel as though we weren’t facing the unknown alone but alongside a friend who truly cared.

As I observed her, I couldn’t help but smile. Her boundless energy, radiant white smile, quick laughter, and effortless humor turned the day’s heaviness into something lighter. Sharon’s presence calmed anxieties we hadn’t even realized we carried. Though her knowledge reassured us, it was her grace—conveyed through her smile, her lively step, and her heartfelt kindness—that transformed the room.

Later, as we moved to the waiting room, Sharon’s light continued to shine. The room was filled with anxious faces—groups of people sitting in hushed tones, sipping coffee, and stealing glances at the clock. But each time Sharon entered, it was as if a vibrant butterfly flitted among drooping flowers. She moved from person to person, addressing everyone by name, offering updates, and checking on their concerns. Her reassuring touch and words lifted spirits and brought smiles to faces once marked by worry.

Even after she left, her impact lingered. At barely 5’2”, no more than 100 pounds, and appearing to be in her sixties, Sharon was the picture of agility and energy.

We couldn’t help but comment to one of the nurses about how remarkable Sharon was. The nurse leaned in close, a conspiratorial smile on her face, and whispered, “She wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but can you guess her age?”

We didn’t dare.

“Well, what if I told you that three weeks ago, we celebrated Sharon’s 80th birthdayright here?”

We were gobsmacked. It seemed impossible. I chuckled as I glanced at Sharon, trying to process the revelation. How could it be? She was too quick, too fit, too full of energy. Surely, we had misunderstood—but we hadn’t.

As the surgery stretched on and the waiting room gradually emptied, Sharon found herself alone with us—the only ones left in the sprawling space. She sat down at our table and, without prompting, began to talk. She shared how blessed she felt to volunteer through her church, providing food, health clinics, screenings, checkups, blankets, and other assistance to the poorest and most overlooked in downtown Dallas. She spoke warmly and humbly, always pointing to others’ contributions, never casting herself as the hero.

I studied her as she talked—her vibrant yellow wig, thick makeup, earrings the size of baby rattles. Beneath the playful exterior was a profoundly kind, giving, extroverted servant. She was like an angel from heaven itself. Gratitude welled up in my heart. In this cold and competitive world, God had planted butterflies like Sharon.

But Sharon wasn’t naive. She was acutely aware of the world’s brokenness. She spoke with passion—and pain—about the violence in schools, the bullying, the addiction, and the breakdown of family that she sees daily. She decried the loss of discipline in today’s schools, reminiscing about her Catholic school upbringing, where etiquette and consequences were taught and enforced.

Her voice trembled as she shared about her pregnant daughter, who had to quit her teaching job because of threats from students. “The schools,” she said, shaking her head. “They’re terrible. My grandbabies are there, and it’s just horrible. Oh, you don’t know.”

As we talked about our family and lifestyle, Sharon listened intently. We shared stories of our children and this past Thanksgiving, offering her a glimpse into the life we are blessed to live. Her face lit up, beaming with childlike joy. “I wish I had a family like that!” she exclaimed, marveling at the support of siblings and cousins. But there was no envy, no bitterness—just genuine happiness for others’ blessings.

At some point, the conversation circled back to Sharon’s remarkable energy and health. She mentioned her diet and exercise routine, but I couldn’t help interjecting. “Sharon,” I said, “your unbelievable health and energy are a testament to your attitude—the selfless way you focus entirely on others, love deeply and freely, and find joy not in waiting to receive, but in always giving.”

I thought of Paul’s words:

“Do everything without grumbling or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation. Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky.” - Philippians 2:14-15

How does grumbling short-circuit the process that would make me into a child of God? Hebrews tells us that hardship, when viewed as training, is what makes me a son rather than a spiritual orphan. An unhappy, complaining spirit about life strips hardship of its potential power as a training exercise and reduces it to pointless anguish—the meaningless bludgeoning of time and chance, which could have been the crafting labor of the Artist’s hands.

This is the power of attitude—the difference between being trained, equipped, and empowered, or being discouraged, dejected, and defeated—by the very same circumstance.

Sharon was living proof of this truth from Proverbs: “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones” (Prov. 17:22). Her attitude turned difficulties into opportunities for joy and grace.

We place so little emphasis on our attitudes, treating them as uncontrollable reactions to circumstances, people, and forces beyond our control. But that’s a lie. If we believe we’re merely puppets of external dynamics, there’s no freedom in that. The truth is, my attitude is the one thing no one can take from me.

You can bind the body in chains, afflict it with unbearable pain, mock and torment it—but the heart’s inner attitude remains sovereign. That’s where freedom is proven. I can choose to view my trials through God’s lens of hope and purpose. I can choose gratitude when life is unraveling. I can count it all joy even in suffering, rejoicing amidst slander, affliction, rejection, or disease. In God’s hands, the trials meant to destroy me produce the opposite—grace, faith, love, and victory over the great deceiver.

“He delivers the afflicted by their affliction and opens their ear by adversity.” - Job 36:15

You can take my comfort, my pleasures, even my blessings, but you cannot take my joy, peace, or faith. These attitudes are rooted not in circumstances but in the unshakable truth that God is in control. “He walks on the tempest and rides the storm.”

We encouraged Sharon, “You don’t have to stay—it’s already after midnight. Please, feel free to go home.”

“No way!” she replied, her smile unwavering. “I’m here to see this through. I’m here for you until you’re back with your loved one. You should’ve seen me last Monday—I stayed till after 1 A.M.! This is what I love to do. It’s what I’m here for.”

When the surgery was over and we reunited with our loved one, Sharon embraced us, her joy undimmed. She even expressed a desire to visit our community in Waco and thanked us repeatedly—though it was we who should have been thanking her.

As we walked down the gleaming hospital hallway toward the elevators, a voice called out behind us. “I’m gonna be praying for y’all—have a safe journey on that busy highway. God bless y’all!”

It was Sharon.

No, it was Jesus—His indomitable grace shining in a dark world through one happy warrior, still going strong at 80 years old.

May God help us to cultivate the power of attitude—an attitude of trust, love, and joy—that no darkness can quench.

“And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith.” - 1 John 5:4