"It's a Love/Hate Thing"

A morning ritual has developed.  One of the first things I do when I awaken is to check my cell phone to see if I received any text messages while I was sleeping.  With a cup of tea in hand, I then settle in my rocking chair with my I-pad to scroll through "New Stories" on Facebook, look at e-mails, and continue play in an online Scrabble game.  The ritual often includes going to this blog site and either writing a new post or editing current ones.  After a great deal of evaluation, I have made the assessment that I have a love/hate relationship with the electronic gadgets in my life. 

In the beginning of home computer use, I was wary of the internet.  My thought was that anything called the "web" couldn't be good.  It may have been a prophetic appraisal.

I took longer than most to purchase one of the updated, upgraded phones because I know myself and my propensity for addictive behavior.  In fact, I might still be content with my older, industrial-type phone were it not for a family member's move to another state and the promise to Face Time with them.   A Mother’s Day gift from the family, gift cards to my cell phone server, left me with no excuses for not actively being part of this electronic age.   

The I-pad, I-phone, and laptop computer I have are a double-edged sword.  Instant communication via e-mail or text, Facebook, Google search, MapQuest—There are pros and there are cons.

On the plus side is being able to share in the lives of my family--seeing an Idaho grandgirl in a volleyball game as it happens, another at a guitar lesson; a picture of another at a local swimming pool, the oldest grandgirl with her first car, and yet another with new glasses. These are all on the pro side of the column as are confirming schedules with my clients, googling "property associations" while helping the grandgirl with homework, searching out new recipes, knitting patterns and ideas, and having a personal navigator while driving.  

So many connections, reconnections, and contacts have been made as a result of these tools--family members, childhood friends and classmates, people on the other side of the world.  

The time factor is one I would place on the con side.  Moderation has never been my forte’, and I find myself spending far too much time being involved with a piece of electronic equipment, checking for messages, e-mails, and Facebook updates.  In addition, I am addicted to Words With Friends, an interactive Scrabble game.  How can one spend so much time searching for the perfect word with the maximum amount of points?  I don’t have an answer, but search I do.

Another negative is that when one speaks with a person one-on-one, humor, sarcasm, and anger are visible and felt.  Facial expressions and body language make that evident. Communicating and conveying thoughts and ideas via text or e-mail is far more difficult. Even with the emoticoms one's tone is not easily translatable.  A lot of time is spent explaining what I really mean. 

As I have mentally wrestled with this issue, I came to the conclusion that there is a fine line between being in control and being controlled.  A dear family member/friend, who is not on Facebook commented, “That is just one less thing I have to manage.”  A valid point I have considered myself.

 

I love it; I hate it.  As with so many things in life, I think it’s finding balance.  I’m still working on it. 

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see if it’s my turn on Words With Friends.

   

"On Contrast and Compare"

contrast:  v.  To set in opposition in order to show the difference or differences between.
compare:  v.  To assess the similarities and differences between two or more things.

Hot and cold. Day and night. Light and dark. Rich and poor. Sickness and Health. To contrast and compare is part of everyday life, often without conscious thought or an awareness of doing it.

My appetite was gone. The thought of food had no appeal, not even that of bulk food bin #2001, a chocolate/nut mix favorite at the local grocer. I knew then I was physically ill and not just languishing in a mentally laggard state of slothfulness.  Sometimes my mind needs to get in gear before my body decides to go to work. I assumed that was the case.

For several days I had been pushing myself, dragging my heels.  The previous day I heard myself say repeatedly, “I don’t feel good.”  The loss of appetite was a clincher, proof positive it was physical, not mental. Feeling ill vs. feeling well. 

The concept of contrast and compare can be a valuable tool in life, one which provides a perspective and aids in bringing understanding to many experiences in life, often a before-and-after picture.

Deep depression was present and an on-going condition in my life for many years. I never cease to revel in the life I now live and know.  It is a picture of contrast and comparison. I feel I value and appreciate my current state more because of being trapped--and living in--the former one.

My heart goes out to those who struggle.  I would never have the same capacity for understanding or care had I not been in that place myself. I know and experienced the hell-hole depths of darkness and hopelessness of life.  At the same time, I carry a sense of hope and possibility for others.   

There are other areas in my life where I see contrast as well, an insight into changes in my inner, former states vs. the present. I have been given a clear mind, replacing mental chaos and a mind so filled with debris that thought processes were difficult. I can hear and sense my Creator. To think. To reason. Tears have been replaced with laughter. I no longer live under the bondage of obsessive, addictive behavior but in freedom. A grim outlook of absolute hopelessness and negativism has changed into a bright, positive outlook. A life of lies and darkness switched to living a life in truth and light.

Why do bad things happen to good people?”  I propose the substitution of the word “hard” for “bad.”  Life’s experiences may be hard, but that doesn’t make them bad. In fact, it’s the opposite.  They are invaluable in stretching us, developing maturity, and producing compassion and empathy, understanding for others.

Designed circumstances provide the opportunity to become the kind of person we were originally created to be. They change us. This, in contrast to remaining shallow, self-centered, narcissistic beings.   

What was is no more.  And this is what I want you to see--not only do the hard times bring about change both on the inner and the outer, they also create a point of reference.  In the contrast and comparison between what was and what is, we can always remember where we were, where we came from, and what a gift our present state is.  For me, that is the basis of ongoing gratitude to the One who brought me through, Who has given me the life I have.

"Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning."  Psalm 30:5

                                     

  

 

     

 

"On 'People First'"

Dinner was the most basic fare, a dish which hearkens back decades, known in my family as “Grandma’s Macaroni and Tomatoes.”  I had purchased the necessary ingredients to prepare it the last time I shopped, although the peppers and kidney beans are my embellishments, not hers.  Her meal consisted of crisping bacon, sautéing onions in the grease, and adding dry macaroni and home canned tomatoes.  Often prepared for a family home from school for lunch, it was a filler dish readily made with ingredients on hand.

As I began preparing, chopping the vegetables and frying the bacon slices, my thoughts were on this woman who was a part of my life for over 30 years.

For her, meal preparation was done on a wood cook stove, even after electric ranges were available to the general population.  She worked in the kitchen alone, often cooking for an “army,” as it were—hungry adult men, their families, lots of children.  When holidays came she made certain a favorite pie had been made for each and every person at her table.  Pies lined every available counter space, memories in the making.  There was no cleanup help, no dishwasher; she was the sole "cook and bottle washer," as they say.

As one who had the most minimal of resources and provisions with which to work, she never turned anyone away from a meal.  If you were in her home at mealtime, you were fed and fed well--not lavishly, but no one ever had reason to leave the table hungry.

“People First.”  This precept, this admonition and adage, is one introduced to me many years ago by a lifelong friend, one that has been repeated and reinforced over and over again.  I’ve considered  writing on it for quite some time, but found it an elusive subject to express in words—until “Grandma’s Macaroni and Tomatoes.” 

sacrifice:  selfless, good deeds for others; surrender or giving up anything for the sake of something or someone else

“People First” and sacrifice go hand in hand.  One cannot and does not put others first without that thread of selflessness running through one's being.  It is an unconscious characteristic, the natural state of a person, one where no ulterior motives are involved or manifest, no thought of debt, being owed, or recompense. 

It is simply placing another’s needs or desires ahead of self;  it is giving time when that is asked, giving an ear to hear, to listen; it is being available, giving of oneself.  "People First" is literally placing another ahead of myself.

Another aspect of this pearl is that people are more important than any one, single material thing.  I could have virtually every object  money can buy but, without people in my life, I would be a shell of a person.  People are more important than power, prestige, social status, financial gain.  They are eternal.  That cannot be applied even to an antique, certainly not an expensive piece of jewelry or clothing, the best automobile or home money can buy. 

Small, young, teens, middle-age, the elderly—There is no age differentiation in this directive of "People First."  So when a little munchkin accidentally breaks a priceless treasure, the child is important, not the object.  When a drink is spilled inside a vehicle, which has the soul—the car or the one who did the spilling?  When an important conversation is taking place, my time is not mine, but belongs to the one needing to vent, to voice, to be heard.

Neither is "People First" limited to, nor defined by, only those who are family and friends. There is a world filled with people, people who simply need someone to notice, to care.

How to live one’s life is an important consideration.  Life can be lived well or.....not so well.  I have observed, witnessed, and experienced firsthand “People First” in action and feel it is an important foundational building block in life.  I honestly do not know if it is attainable for all, but its value and worth cannot be underestimated.

Grandma and her “Macaroni and Tomatoes” go hand in hand with “People First.”  I am an advocate for personal change and growth at the hand of my Creator.  This one is priceless.   

    

"On One 'Little' Difference"

Forget setting aside a time for meditation, a time of peace and quiet for inner soul searching and pensive thought.  Just place me behind a lawn mower, cutting swaths of grass.  There is something about that rhythm, the back and forth motion.  Walking, walking, walking.  That is when and where I find my quiet place.

The coverage of another attack on innocents, this time in Copenhagen, Denmark had just been posted, and I had read about it.  These are happening so frequently that only the details of reporting are changed out—location, number of casualties, number of attackers. The "justification" of this one was anger directed toward one who had drawn caricatures of a religious prophet who lived several centuries ago and the purported requirement for vengeance. 

vengeance:  revenge taken for an insult, injury, or other wrong  Syn.:  reprisal, retaliation, retribution, revenge taken for an insult, injury, or other wrong  

It is estimated there are at least 4200 different religions in the world, a dozen of them classed as major religions.  Many of them are in direct contradiction to one another.  One of the things I have learned is that, as I want to be allowed to have my own beliefs and be given personal respect for those, I need to allow that for others as well and give that same respect.  While I might not agree with them, the individual worth of those who believe is no less than mine, and they have a right--yes, a right to believe and to live according to their personal dictates.  In fact, that is what my Father demands and expects--if you believe in it, stand in it, whatever that belief might be.  At the same time, be fully prepared to pay the consequences for rejection of light and truth, where and when that is applicable.   

And this is where my mind went as I mowed--back and forth, back and forth:  When the One whom I follow is ridiculed, made light of, or even despised and discounted, I bristle.  It is not taken personally so I cannot say I am offended, but it does bother me.  However, I do feel each and every person must answer for their own actions, their own lives, and in that sense it has nothing to do with me.  Would I stand in my own faith and defend that within myself?  Most certainly, but taking up arms on behalf of my Father is not my response to criticism directed at Him and is not something He asks of me.

And thus I ended up here: There are many differences between my faith and the faith of those intent on reprisal for perceived wrongs.  Moreover, there is one obvious difference between the two of us.  These feel they must defend the one they follow, that they must personally wage war and fight battles on his behalf;  I, on the other hand, take my Father at His word: “Vengeance is mine, I will repay.” 

It is not for me to deem those people or those situations which require recompense.   Were I to do that I would be taking matters into my own hands, putting myself in the position of being both judge and jury, a state God does not look upon kindly.    He is quite capable of taking care of Himself.  I do not have to, nor can I, fight His battles for Him.  

Let me see--Which is the better method of retribution, the one with only physical weapons at hand, the other with all the resources of the Creator?  Which is more effective?  To me, the answer is obvious.

Not a "little" difference at all, but a major one.

"Never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine.  I will repay,' says the Lord."       

"On Clarity"

 clarity:  n. The state, or measure of being clear, either in appearance, thought, or style.

 

The action was an impulsive one, the results of which I find I am reveling in, not only today but probably for some time to come.

It’s that time of the year. Gardening season is in full swing. Sunny days and blue skies announce the advent of Spring. With it comes the sunshine. Sunlight poring through my windows expose their obvious dirty state.

The grime could not be ignored, though I wasn’t trying to. My gardening business occupies most of my time and energy. Washing windows has not been a priority on my to-do list.

The window in my front bedroom/office is right beside my computer. It is the one I view my mornings through. The scenes range from a blanket of fog to breathtaking sunrises.

Today, I find myself looking out the window and feeling pleased. I can see clearly. Yesterday, that was not the case.

The day had been planned, more-or-less. I should have been getting ready to head out to either mow a lawn or weed a garden for my clients. Instead, I found myself, without even giving it a thought, taking the grimy blinds down. I filled the bathtub with hot, soapy water and plunked them in to soak. I felt I couldn’t do much to damage them, and improvement was a reasonable possibility.

I grabbed a bottle of spray cleaner, an old toothbrush, and some Q-tips to scrub out window tracks. A squeegee, rags, and a bucket of water were added to the cleaning arsenal as I began what felt like an attack mode.

The filth of both window and blinds had bothered me for some time, so the aggressive action felt good.  I scrubbed and washed the window on the inside and tackled the frames and tracks too. The scene was much improved, but I still needed to deal with the exterior.

It was time to begin my gardening workday, but I determined to deal with the screens and the outside when I returned. And I did!

First, I removed the screens. That enabled me to easily clean the windows. I scrubbed the screens with a soapy brush, then rinsed them with the hose. After I put the clean screens back on, the task was completed.

Back inside, I put the clean, rinsed blinds in place. By then, it was dark out. I was unable to view the results of my efforts.

This morning I find myself looking out the window--not for what I might see--but because I am able to see.

Clarity comes to mind. That is what was restored when the dirt and grime were removed from my window. There was nothing wrong with the windowpane. However, the residue clouded it so much I was unable to see clearly through it.

Often, much of our mind, lives, and inner vision are in that same state. Layer upon layer of debris accumulates--so much so our insight is impaired, resulting in confusion. We wonder why we are taken by surprise when current situations affect us, many times spring boarding from earlier experiences. You know how it is—stuff happens, and we just collect garbage, not because we want to, but because we’re unable to get rid of it. And yes, that does affect the quality of the life we live in the here and now.

I am all for thorough cleaning, not only on the outer, but in the inner. Thankfully, my Heavenly Father is proficient when it comes to bringing about clarity.

Many years ago He told me, “There is a better way.” It isn't a right way vs. a wrong way. But a better way.

So, if you are in a place where you cannot deny a lot of muck and junk is affecting your life and clouding your ability to have clear insight, it might be a hint a thorough washing is in order.

Living one’s life in clarity is a better way to live. However, it is not something we can achieve ourselves. Come before Him in honesty and sincerity. He is able, capable…and willing.

 

 

"On Seeing"

see:  to perceive or detect with the eyes; to view, observe, behold; to witness or observe     by personal experience.

It happened with a pair of socks, while I was folding laundry.   I had paired two socks and, as I reached for a second pair, realized neither pair matched.  I had looked at them, the colors shouted a mismatch, but I did not see the obvious.   

Have you ever had an experience where you looked, but you didn’t see?  It's not that it wasn’t there, right in front of you, “as plain as the nose on your face,” my mother would say, but somehow it did not compute in your mind.  How many times have your eyes passed over an object of search, perhaps a set of keys or that rogue tennis shoe your child needed to head off to school, that important piece of paper you had put in a special place for safekeeping?  It seems if we are looking we should see, but that isn’t always so. 

And so those socks sent my mind to places of consideration and thought, that of seeing....or not. 

There is physical sight and there is spiritual sight.  I instinctively think of inner vision, that awareness or knowledge that is separate from the eyes with which we view our material world.  There are some who call such having an epiphany or revelation, an "aha!" moment; others would apply the description  “getting it." 

For me, to see is to understand without words; to have knowledge of, to have a grasp of concepts, truths, and precepts which have not been heard with physical ears.  Those things I see are within my being, not visible to any other man, yet they are solid and real, often life-changing. 

And this is what I see--now isn't that an adroit application of the word?: Each one of us falls into two categories at varying times in our lives.  The first is that of not seeing what others see; the second is that of seeing what others do not.

There are those times in our lives when we are blinded--to the severity of our circumstances, the seriousness of the state we are in, the dire straits of our behaviors, actions, and attitudes, to ourselves.  The resulting course of life shouts "disaster" as we head towards a cliff, but we continue on, because we don't see.  Those around may observe and attempt to call attention and focus, but as a wise friend has said, "If you don't see, you don't see."

The second category is where we are the ones who have the sight, with clear vision of another's state and situation.  And this is where a person can bump into a huge problem, if one isn't careful--that of judgment.

It can be easy to assume that if things are obvious to me then my friend, neighbor, teacher, spouse, child--you get the point--should be able to discern those problem-causing areas as well.  The trap of pointing a finger, harshly judging and criticizing sits at the door, and we can readily fall into it.  Surely these people we love and care for cannot help but see those things which are crystal clear to us.  "Don't you see yourself?," we want to shout.  Not necessarily.  "If you don't see, you don't see." 

Just as there have been many times in my life when I didn't see myself, so it is for others.  There is always the consideration that when I see what another cannot it is so I can take that person before my Father, what some would call prayer.  Isn't that what caring for one another is about?  Standing in support and understanding rather than judging? 

Seeing, inner vision and sight, is a gift.  Often it comes in the form of a mirror, and we are unable to escape the truth.  Never take a single offering or revelation lightly; hold on to each one.  They are given to bring about change within, growth, maturity, and development.  No man can ever take them away from you.  And be careful lest you judge others for things that are not clear to them, for things they do not see.

And when I do see, that is when I can no longer plead ignorance or denial; I am then without excuse.  When I have been shown the truth of myself, when I see, then I am held accountable.  I am responsible.


"I see," said the blind man.

"Buy from Me medicine to put on your eyes so you can truly see."

   

"On Meanderings and Progressive Dinners"

In all probability, I am dating myself when I speak of progressive dinners. They have been around for a while, but perhaps they have gone by the wayside, along with the turning over of outhouses on Halloween.   

The term "progressive dinner" is self-explanatory.  A large group of people can share a meal and an evening of socializing without the entire burden of entertaining falling upon one host/hostess.  The meal begins at one home with appetizers and continues to the next with, perhaps, soup and salad.  The menu is as simple or as complex as those who plan it wish it to be.  The main course is at yet another home, and the evening ends with dessert at a final destination.

My mind was in that state yesterday, roaming from one place to another.  Often, these writings take form and shape while I am working, with the consideration "What is the point?"  In all honesty, I couldn’t come up with one, and so I went from one place to another, changing not only physical but mental scenery as I cleaned.

“I think I’m spending too much time on Facebook.”  That was the conclusion I came to as I thought of my involvement with that social media in recent days.  I feel that each person has the right to his/her own point of view, and my perspective is simply that--mine.  However, three times this past week, I just had to open my mouth and spout off, disregarding a daughter's admonition to "Just don't make comments, Mom!"

A post of a well-known televangelist had been shared.  Generally, I don’t read them, but read I did.  I responded by commenting I disagreed, and I laid out my thoughts.  Yet again, a second post which stated how important it is to not do things which might cause personal unhappiness while making others happy had me jumping up and down. “You have got to be kidding!," I ranted.  "Since when is my happiness or unhappiness the standard, the gauge of how I live my life?  How happy do you think Christ was at the Last Supper with His disciples, or in the Garden of Gethsemane, or as His body was being nailed to a cross?”  Life with God does not revolve around my personal comfort.

The third time was the result of a post regarding ISIS, the terrorist group wreaking havoc and misery around the world.  All varieties of opinions were expressed, and God got drug into the argument.  “There is no logic in God,” said one, “when there are 4000 other gods.”  Busy fingers here—“The logic is that one God is living, 4000 gods are dead.”

"I am either becoming very bold or 'plumb dumb'," I thought.    

The wandering continued.  As I began mopping the floors, my thoughts were in yet another place.  I thought of prayer and religion.  There  are some who believe that, with the burning of incense or candles, prayers ascend to one who can answer; others send their offerings into the air with chants, songs, and repetitious motions.  “That makes as much sense as spitting into the wind to put out a fire,” I thought.  I differ in that my prayers are conversations, one on one, with my Father. 

On to the next "course."  Periodically, I find myself examining my life and the way I live my life.  Yesterday was one of those times.  One of my pet peeves, in addition to barking dogs, is the person who has words—lots and lots of words, with no substance to back them up.  I am particularly reviled when they are spoken "in the name of God."  For me, it is sickeningly worsened when monetary gain is made from those words.  That, I feel, is the ultimate in taking advantage of those who are in need, and is the base of my reaction against the religious televangelist. 

At any rate, I need to be concerned with myself and with my life, and so in these times I stand quietly.  “Please change those things within me that need to be changed.”  

The meanderings continued just like a progressive dinner.  The thoughts were like the courses, settled in a single place and completely enjoyed before moving on to another.  And this is what I decided:  No, I don’t have a particular point for this writing and, as with a progressive dinner, I did not end up where I started, but I certainly ended up filled and satisfied.