Tears came to my eyes. I wiped them away quickly. "Think about something else," I ordered my brain. "Ignore your feelings."

Why was a 52-year-old woman with a basically normal life seconds away from at least a three-Kleenex sobbing spell? Had I lost my job? My husband? My health? No. I was in a computer room at a Library Resource Center trying to print a three-page report that I needed for a workshop project.

I grew up in the 1960s. I was a pretty good student in school; I showed up every day, listened and did my homework. I went to college, worked for a few years and then stayed home to raise two children. I returned to work when my kids went to college. Life was good.

Then came computers. Computers slipped into my life in a gradual, non-threatening way. Business people "adopted" them, offices "changed over," and neighbors rearranged furniture to fit THE COMPUTER into a corner of their family rooms. I was not totally comfortable with this machine, but I did not view it as a beast to be tamed. After all, I reasoned, it must have an ON/OFF button and a direction manual. I had mastered many other machines and gizmos in the past. I can set the cruise control in my van. I can use my microwave. I can even reset my VCR after a power outage.

THE COMPUTER is no more than a combination of electronic what's-its, I thought. Besides, if it was ornery, I could just have little to do with it. I guessed I could live a long and happy life, and die in peace, without ever having to "Log on."

That was my thought.

But nooooooooothe winds of business and technology blew THE COMPUTER into my life, as unwanted and bothersome as dust on the ceiling fan blades. "What is your email address?" a response card in a cooking magazine asked. "I don't have one!" I yelled in brain-whispers. "But I can still cook. And I don't need a computer for that!"

My dislike for computers grew, and so did their interference in my life.

My original plan to politely avoid computers was compromised when I watched my teen-agers buy and use them at home. They showed me how to turn switches on, point to boxes and play card games. Suddenly I became excited! I was getting pretty smart! And I knew it was entertaining for others to watch me flinging that little arrow in 2-inch zigzags across the screen as I tried to point to the right little icon. But it was ok. I could bear the giggles because I knew I was coming into THE COMPUTER WORLD on my own terms. Not a big bite, just a nibble.

Actually I found being on the computer kind of cool, a way to feel young and ageless at the same time. I could say words like "mouse, PC, terminal, hard-drive and download" with meaning. But I still stood quietly in the rear of the library, watching 11-year-olds print science reports knowing my skills didn't come close to theirs. No problem, though; I still had options.

In my mind, the computer and I had an understanding: I would go easy on it if it would go easy on me. In my mind, THE COMPUTER was one thing, one unit, whether it was my daughter's computer, the one in our school office, or the one on which I ordered my Sausage-McMuffin. They were all THE COMPUTER. And when I sat down to face one, I imagined an electrical spirit inside looking out, saying to me, "Well, hello, Pokeyhere to play a few quick rounds of Solitaire?...(smirk, smirk)"

My small pool of confidence got drained real shallow, however, when I took a writing workshop. Not only was I expected to produce something of quality, I was supposed to do it on THE COMPUTER. Do you see the tears beginning to form?

I had an assignment. I scribbled out my paragraphs longhand, on paper, surely an acceptable route for beginners. Rough draft in hand, I headed optimistically for the library and chose a friendly-looking machine close to the HELP desk. I started up the computer, followed the directions from class, but I could not get past the ID box. This was not a good sign! People around me were typing like crazy. Getting help was my only hope. The Tech-Team of Bob, Dale and John helped me every five or ten minutes. I rotated my helpers to ease my embarrassment, but all it did was reveal my lack of skills to a greater number of people.

After one gruesome 20-minute battle of Edit/Save/Copy/No Access/Retry/Access Denied, I simply stopped. I was swept up in a great wind of self-pity. I gathered my papers and headed for the exit, hoping I didn't meet anyone I knew on the way out. I was sure my face was a weird, twisted mask, reflecting, "I'm about to cry!" covered by a bit of "Nice day, isn't it?"

I was heart-broken. I had tried my best, but I still couldn't handle that machine. I had worked for almost two hours and only had an awkward-looking three-page article to show for it. I was afraid-How would my future be impacted if I couldn't handle this beast? I was resentful-Why did I have to learn NOW how to use a computer? I had always been good using a typewriter and thought that was enough. I never chose computers, but I was stuck with them like burrs on my pant legs.

I walked down the sidewalk ...sniffle, drip ... and around a corner ... drip, drip. Why was I so upset?...sniff, drip, wipe. Everyone else seemed to be able to use THE COMPUTER.

I dried my eyes and glasses-how did they get wet? Well, I thought, maybe it wasn't a problem with THE COMPUTER. Maybe it was me. So what did that mean? I could still do all the things I could do before. I hadn't lost anything. I just hadn't gained anything, and that was frustrating.

Dry-eyed but still feeling somewhat defeated, I quietly walked back to the empty classroom and put my papers down. Everyone else was writing and editing. Then my friend Natalie entered the room. She had just finished editing her children's Bible story rhyme. "Would you read this for me and check the rhythm?" she asked.

"I need a break. I'd love to." I replied.

Her verses sounded fresh and cute. They told the story of God blessing the widow's jar of flour so that she never ran out. The story of an old gal who never had much, but she had enough.

Enough to get by.

Bingo! I'll never have much computer skill, but I know now that God will give me what I need. He created me and has blessed me all my life. He loves me so much that He sent His Son Jesus to die for my sins. I know I'll live in heaven eternally with my wonderful Father and all believers.

In the meantime, He calms me with friends like Natalie. I am satisfied that computer skills are not a big necessity for my Christian walk, just a modern bonus. God made my brain, so I'll keep trying to learn, to His glory. But if I don't do so well, I promise not to cry about it. I'll just thank Him for the stuff I do knowand for computers near the HELP desk.