Hi.
Hope you are well.
Haven't written much lately. Been busy though. Took care of my dad for a few days. Helped a friend move for a couple of evenings. Pitched in at my daughter's new store yesterday. Sitting at home today by myself. Loving it.
Checked to see who read which of my blogs last week.
Six hits. Total.
Three of them on a post from almost a year ago: http://opennessandhonesty.blogspot.com/2010/09/neil-young-teresa-pakiz-and-ranch.html.
Not sure why.
Doesn't matter.
I do hope, however, that the time you spend reading my stuff isn't a waste of your time.
***
Last Week with Dad
Rode up to hang out with Dad last weekend. Great ride. Fun visit.
As soon as I arrived and put my backpack in the guest room at my brother's house, Dad and I drove off (in his car) to The Olive Garden, his favorite place.
They're nice to us there. Dad kinda hobbles along grasping his walker and I block for him. Seriously. I plow my way through crowds oblivious to anything but their indigestion and who's gonna pay what portion of the bill. Dad rides the wake behind me. It works.
Had a cute chicklette waitress. Dad couldn't hear a word she said. Not his fault really. She was meek and mild. Her voice didn't carry very well with the restaurant at its peak and wild.
Should'a seen my dad's eyes light up when I said, "SHE WANTS TO KNOW IF YOU'D LIKE A LITTLE BIT OF WINE!!!"
Our server said we could each have a hit of wine for a quarter. (Reminds me of a Stevie Wonder concert I attended in Buffalo. Or was it Jethro Tull in Newport?)
Before Dad's eyeballs boinked into our salad, I told her to give him some. He. Loved. It. Told her to give Dad my portion too. Slugged that down like he was filming a western and was fixin to draw on somebody. Bang! Gone. Except for the smile that said, "Thanks for being my son from the Dark Side."
Everybody else keeps Dad alive by dividing his celery stalks into 4" slices and his bread into 2" squares. He'd die if they didn't. I come along and we don't merely go out to eat, we pillage restaurants (but not servers).
He survives and endures his meals of "one 6" pine twig, no sap; one eggshell, boiled; one used lime Popsicle stick, unwashed but sterilized; 1/4 cup warm water."
Me? I ride in as if I'm Batman, Superman and [insert name of your favorite chef here] all in one. I clear his way to buffets and load his plate until it's difficult to balance with one hand. We go back for his dessert afterward.
The people who truly love him keep him alive. I take days/weeks/years off his life, but I give him something to live for. As long as he takes his meds, nobody complains.
This time was a bit different. Dad's frail/frailer. Our forays to The Olive Garden and Chef Linn's gave him tummy trouble. I'll spare you the details, but we shan't mix the two again, given the opportunity.
**
Dad and I ventured unto the hills in his new/er car: a soul-less white Honda Accord with taupe-ish interior and no personality. A nice car. Great one, really. But it's as bland as his diet. I'd rather ride The Bike and take my chances.
We rode up, down and all around Chicasaugamaugawauga Dam Lake. We pointed to boats and trains and clouds and cars and birds and enjoyed life. Together.
Another excellent adventure.
Unspoiled by any we lacked previously.
**
Somewhere around 6 AM on Monday, I heard Dad weakly cry "Help! Help me!" Have you ever snarked a laugh or two at that commercial where the lady says, "Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!" Not so funny when it's your dad before dawn.
Dad was banged up and bleeding. Angry that he fell. But he can't sit forever because he broke/bruised his tailbone a month or two ago. He has to stand to alleviate the pain. So, he stands. Tired. Drugged. Falls asleep. Tumbles....
He was OK Monday morning. We bandaged him up -- although I got ZERO points for style. Made breakfast. Drove him to dialysis. Came home. Did some editing on a friend's book. After dialysis, Dad was exhausted.
We all felt it was best to have me spend another night. My brother and sister-in-law (SIL) returned on Wednesday. At 2 AM on Thursday, Dad fell. Broke his arm. He's still in the hospital. Dox aren't gonna operate or use a cast. This will put an end to Dad's arguments that he's able to drive (for now). But I wonder what else this will put an end to.
Dad is 90. Lonely. Sad. The last of his siblings. One of the remaining few of his friends. Hates his diet -- the one that keeps him alive. Hates using his walker. Hates not living in his Ala Moana Blvd. high-rise overlooking the Pacific and his uber-fun yacht club (where no one seems to own a boat). At the same time he is thankful for the care my brother and SIL graciously offer him. Dad knows such love cannot be matched by anyone else anywhere.
Dad is longing for a better life at the end of his mortal life. He wants a peaceful place far away where there isn't any pain. Where he won't be lonely. Where he won't get older and more feeble. Where he can see his family again. Where he'll be loved even more than the [stupendous?] ways my brother and SIL care for Dad.
Dad is longing for heaven, without saying a word.
Dad has asked God to forgive his sins. Dad believes Jesus Christ died on the cross, for our sins, not His own. He believes the sacrifice made by Jesus paid the penalty Dad owes for his sins. At some point, Dad's next stop will be heaven, where his longings will be fulfilled.
I love my dad. So does my brother.
But it's been a tough relationship.
***
Dad left us when I was about five. I saw him every year or two, if I remember correctly. Then I didn't see him for years. Twice, seven years passed without seeing him.
Heard he was in California. Then Texas. Then Atlanta. Then California again. Hard to keep it all straight. Hard to care. Heard he remarried. But he wasn't exactly divorced.
When I was in college, Dad called. At the time, I shared two floors of a cool house on Dartmouth Street with three other roomies. When one moved out, it was always a drag to find new ones. Eventually, it came down to Ted upstairs, with Carole, Alice and I sharing the second floor. (Remember the movie "Bob, Ted, Carole and Alice"? It wasn't like that.)
Dad just wanted to chat. Not sure why, really. We had nothing to talk about.
He said he loved me. Told him I thought that was [I hate not being able to say "bullshit" in my blogs]. By the end of the call, he promised to send me tickets to visit his home near San Francisco Bay.
My girlfriend drove me to the airport. I drank myself into oblivion. Someone poured me onto the plane. Got bumped into First Class in Detroit. Followed the lead of the guy next to me and we drank our way across America. About the only words I remember hearing were, "Leave the bottle, please."
Wasn't looking forward to the helicopter ride from SFO to Sausalito, in Marin County. I think that glorious jaunt sobered me up. If you EVER get the chance, take the helicopter. Sober.
Alit by my dad's car.
Went to his house. Spent most of my time at the bar on his lanai overlooking Angel Island and San Fran. Began my love affair with The Golden Gate Bridge and the bay's fog horns. Also fell in love with my dad.
We've been friends ever since. Yes, there were many years without seeing him. But he and his wife trekked to Tennessee to visit with my brother and me -- and the two wives and six grandchildren he had never met.
They all loved Dad too.
He is lovable.
Is he a great man? No.
Is he a bad man? No.
Is he forgivable? Yes.
Is he my father, even if I don't want to forgive him? Yes.
***
Dad didn't take me seriously until I beat him at a game of chess. My Rite of Passage at probably ten years old. I still remember Dad being profoundly shocked. (Not that I wasn't.) It was like getting my first pair of long-legged pants or earning some sort of degree. I was a man in his eyes.
Not that he suddenly knew what to do with me. He's not good with kids.
It's amazing how close we are today.
Dad is my most ardent supporter.
He loves me.
He likes me.
He appreciates me.
He wants to be with me.
He misses me when we're apart.
He is grateful for my calls and visits.
We're close.
And I'm thankful.
I'll also be thankful when he's in a better place.
I'll be thankful for God's forgiveness of my dad.
I'll be thankful when it's my turn to be with him again.
***
The Original Princess
My daughter, The Original Princess (TOP) and I do not speak anymore.
That ended, again, in March of this year. Not the first time.
The last time her daughter, The Princess, was in my home was last Christmas Eve. There is little doubt that she will not be here again this year for Christmas.
I feel sick even writing about this.
Beyond wanting to not just cry, but wail and howl away my misery and hurt.
I lost TOP, from my perspective, when her mother and I were divorced 17 or 18 years ago. TOP went to Red Lobster with her mother to celebrate after the Final Hearing ended. I don't blame TOP. What does a kid know about divorce or its spoils?
Within two years I met a woman I believed was a gift from God.
She used to chant, "I'm not [insert name of first wife here], I'll never leave you." Weird, but weirdly comforting. Too bad it was [seriously, why can't I say "bullshit" when no other word suffices?].
When we married, my second wife wanted a ring made of both gold and platinum ... because mere gold didn't signify her commitment to me or our marriage. Platinum is stronger and more precious than gold. Only that matched her claims of commitment. If you were at our wedding, you heard our spiel about our unbreakable bond.
(Sorry.)
She said she loved my girls.
She probably tried.
150 days later, she was gone with the wind.
**
I won't characterize how this hurt TOP. But it didn't help our relationship.
**
It seems I have done nothing in my life except disappoint TOP.
I regret my failures and sins, but I cannot relive the past.
But I wonder why I cannot be loved as an enemy should be loved, if not as a father.
**
In 2000, my mom was dying. TOP and I went to NY to be with her.
If my mom had the opportunity to either rescue all of humanity or TOP, we all knew she would choose TOP -- without hesitation or regret.
TOP returned that love in my mom's last days. TOP was marvelous to my mom and to me.
I'll spare you the details of that death march but they were dramatic.
Believe it or not, a friend adapted a couple of scenes and used them in his latest novel. (Yes, I take full credit that my family's dysfunctionality was the true source of the many awards the book received.) Can you say, "Book of the Year"?
Anyway.
The point I cannot adequately make is this: I do not understand how my dad could be so lovable and forgivable that we all adore him -- without regard to being abandoned by him. Nor do I understand why TOP cannot draw upon our mutual God's bottomless fund of forgiveness to work through my sins, real or perceived.
But it is what it is.
You cannot make anyone love you.
You cannot make anyone forgive you.
You cannot make anyone want to be with you or enjoy your company.
Even though -- in my experience with Dad -- that is the bucket of emotional gold at the end of the life's rainbow.
***
This Week
We expect Dad to be released from the hospital.
I don't know how he will use his walker with one hand.
I don't know how long he can live with my brother.
I don't know how long Dad will be able to survive.
TOP is scheduled to deliver her third child on Friday by C-section.
We know his name means "joined; combined or attached" in Hebrew.
I will not be there for his arrival.
I wasn't welcome when The Princess was born either, but she and I became friends anyway.
Perhaps we will all be friends again some day.
I don't know.
I try to keep my expectations low.
**
I pray for God's greatest blessings on my dad, my brother and SIL.
I hope and pray TOP will have a safe, joyous delivery.
I pray God brings forth a happy, healthy, mighty man next Friday.
I pray this child will change the world and bring glory to God.
I pray TOP will be loved and cared for; that she'll be blessed; that God will cherish her and forgive her; and that she'll have a good life, whether or not I am in it.
***
Got anybody you should forgive?
Maybe somebody who doesn't deserve it?
Somebody who isn't worth the effort?
Someone you think should pay for their actions?
We're all like that in God's eyes.
But "while we were yet sinners, Christ died for the ungodly."
We'll never be able to earn God's love.
We'll never be able to love the unlovable without it.
Forgiveness and reconciliation are paths of peace we should all walk.
Even if the result is only to marvel at how hard it is
and to thank God
that He never gave up on us.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Light in the Tunnel
Hi.
Hope you are well.
I am.
**
Stats
Just looked up the readership figures for the past week. How many people do you think hit the blog?
Wrong.
Seven.
Only nine people follow it.
I don't care. If I did this to feed on the praise or to be a big shot I would've given up a long time ago.
Writers write because they must.
I'm not the kind of writer who needs readers.
Sorry.
I mean it's OK if you read this stuff. Nice if you like it. Great if you share it.
But this is primarily an act of self-preservation.
No offense, OK?
Oh. Comments. It's true that for a long time I never allowed any to be posted on this blog. The ones all about self-promotion weren't worthy. The ones all about flattering me were embarrassing. And the comments that were clueless made me think only other clueless people read my posts, so they were nixed too.
But. If there's something you want to add, OK.
If it helps others, I probably won't filter it out.
But don't do it for me, OK?
***
Update On Me
I'm fine. This week. A week or so ago was hell.
End of the month bills. No earnings.
End of my rope, so I headed for the hills.
Took a day off and rode for seven hours on The Bike. Cleared my head.
Came home and reignited my passion to look for/find work.
Nothing found. Yet.
***
Update on Friends
Talked to a member of my Great Man/Great Guy Hall of Fame yesterday. Wealthy man. (Tip: Wealthy people hire the people who become rich.)
This guy's wife once told me that in all their years of marriage he had never -- ever -- been unkind to her.
He's a genuinely sincere Christian.
Hurt his back. Called me from his car on the way to physical therapy.
In pain. Already had surgery to relieve the pain.
This is a man who does not drive a 20-year-old Honda with 328,000 miles on the odometer. He can buy any car he wants. He could buy one for every day of the week in different colors.
Has an ailing relative who lives several hours away by car. Too far to go -- in any car -- without causing life-controlling pain. Feels guilty about not going to see his friend/relative. Thinking of a way to lessen the pain of travel ... wants to visit ... feels he must ... but it hurts so much.
Me? Keep the money and the cars and the adoring wife.
I'll take my troubles, thank you,
if it means I can zip & wiggle on The Bike all day.
*
Another member of my Great Guy/Great Man Hall of Fame has a perfect daughter loved by his perfect wife. Asthma. Doctors wanted the child hospitalized, but the family's care was superior, so the docs let the family tend to her at home.
Around the clock. For days. With plenty of prayer. Without griping.
My kids and grandchildren? Fine.
Do I get to visit with them all? No.
Life is imperfect.
Thanks, but I'll keep my troubles and my healthy family.
And I'll pray for those with real problems
not merely my bumps in the road.
*
One member of my Great Guy/Great Man Hall of Fame got fired/laid off from a company he used to lead when it was many times larger.
Ya know how people like me are all bitter about the [omit reference to spurious lineage of former employers] who done us wrong?
This man asked to be allowed to continue to work for free. He's invested much of his life in his job. For him, it's a ministry that he does, as the Bible says, "As unto the Lord, rather than unto men."
They said it was OK for him to come to the office once a week, and to travel for the benefit of the ministry at their expense. They chose wisely.
Three men I admire.
Three different types of troubles.
Three men I hope you meet in heaven who are blessed of God and who would not trade their trials for mine.
Because God only gives us the grace to go through and endure our own trials, not everyone else's. We need God. They need God. That's the deal.
Heard the other day that Andy Stanley said "The only thing worse than discouragement with God is discouragement without God."
Amen.
***
Lights in Tunnels
Rode The Bike to a family reunion earlier this summer.
Took the Blue Ridge Parkway for 100 miles or so. Loved it. Great views. Herds of Harleys hogging the highway, but there are ways around them.
A peaceful path through the hills.
Cool two-lane tunnels add a bit of spice to a rather slow ride. Couple of them are so long and curved that you cannot see the light of day at the end.
On sunny days I wear sunglasses and use a tinted shield on my helmet. Works great. Until you hit a tunnel.
The Bike roars and reverbs in the darkness. (One headlight does not a tunnel illuminate.) But the total blackness doesn't last long. You quickly see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel and you are delivered back into the familiar day.
Just another reason I love riding The Bike. It's more about the path you're on than the ultimate destination.
This particular destination included loving, affirming family at a lakeside home that would flatter the pages of any glossy magazine. Fancy speedboat, comfy pontoon boat, couple of crazoid personal water craft, a canoe or two, and inflatables for those who strayed from the shaded safety of the deck overlooking the lake.
But getting there was as much fun as being there.
That passion for the road I'm travelling -- not merely longing for the destination -- is my goal for this stretch of the road of my life.
***
I'll Be Happy. As Soon As ...
Had a job for many years that occasionally required placating unreasonable religious zealots. Men who believed God gave their radio stations (always called a "ministry" in order to refute any challenge to their decisions) the entire state of Texas, for example. Anyone who dared bring another C/christian radio station into their territory was the enemy of all that was holy.
I've forgotten how many days I wasted trying to negotiate sufficient time between the release of one religious program on one station and airing the same broadcast on another station several cities or states away. Many.
These men of god were defending their own selfish empires, as compared to welcoming any advancement of the Kingdom of God. Gall, in all its glory.
I remember one time when I/we put a fire out. Seemed to make everybody happy (although pleasing God was not part of the goal). Told an advisor in California that the problem was solved and the man at the center of controversy was happy.
I'll never forget what she said. "Of course he's happy. He got his way."
Don't know why I was so surprised by that nugget of wisdom. Still am.
***
The point is: everybody's happy when they get their way.
My goal in this season of life is to be happy, even if I'm not getting my way.
I want a good job. One where I feel that my life is not wasted on talking suckers into spending more than they can afford for something they don't need.
To hell with that, thank you.
*
It's reasonable to presume I'll live another 15 years or so.
I must support myself for that long.
I do not mind working until the day I die.
I do not expect anyone else to provide for me.
(Yes, except God.)
But that's then. This is now.
Today I do not have a job.
I looked for a job today, but I did not find one.
The tunnel remains dark.
Hate me, but I'm happy anyway.
*
I paid the mortgage online. It was $40 more than I mentally budgeted.
No extra fees or charges. I simply forgot the newly adjusted amount.
I am overdrawn. Until tomorrow.
Nothing's going to bounce. No one will go unpaid.
I don't need donations.
Money is tighter than it will be when I get My Great Job.
And more abundant than it will be if I don't.
***
A friend told me of a cashier she met at Wally World. Cast on her leg. Doctor had told her not to return to work too soon. The WW worker has two kids. Now she has doctor bills she didn't have when ends didn't meet last month.
I'll keep my troubles, thank you.
***
Joy in the Darkness
It is my goal to be happy -- not just thankful -- today and tomorrow and the next day.
I am not going to wear sackcloth and ashes because I don't have a job.
I have this impression that I am expected to play the part of a formerly productive member of society who has joined the festered masses who are condemned to eke a miserable existence in Loserdom.
Nonsense.
My life is good.
I am healthy.
I am fed.
One of my daughters loves me. I have friends. I can see, taste, walk, feel, smell (no wisecracks, please) and hear, if you speak up.
I have enough money to help others, at times.
As I say in almost every blog, I am among the most wealthy people in the world. So are you, believe it or not, I don't care who you are.
If you have access to clean water, you're rich.
If you have a roof over your head, you're rich.
If you worry more about being overweight than how to feed your kids, you're rich.
Hate to tell you this ... but, if you're not grateful for your life [insert a phrase here that is much kinder than "you're crazy" or "you're an ingrate" or similar insults].
**
What would it take to make you happy?
More money?
Sounds good, but there are lots of desperate people with lots of money.
Better job?
I understand, but there's more to life than the glory of a good job.
Marriage or divorce?
A gazillion people believe they'd finally be happy if they were married.
A gazillion people believe they'd finally be happy if they were divorced.
But neither marriage nor divorce makes people happy.
It just changes things from one state to another.
The secret is to learn to be happy where you are ... not just hope and/or pray for whatever changes you want that will suddenly bring the bliss that eludes you today.
**
I know. Talk/blogging is cheap.
My kids don't have cancer.
My beloved [whomever] isn't on life support.
I'm not being evicted.
I'm not in jail.
I'm not [insert calamity here].
You're right.
All I have is my measly little problems.
And you can't have them.
Keep your own. Yours are probably WAY worse than mine.
But you do not have to be mastered by your circumstances. If only for a few minutes a day; then, an hour at a time; then, for a day or two.
Or choose to be miserable until [insert hope/dream/relief of your choice here].
Is it easy for you to finish this sentence? Do you know EXACTLY what you'd say? "I'll be happy as soon as ...."
Why not admit what you're saying is "I'll be miserable until ...."
That's more like it, isn't it?
If being miserable makes somebody else carry your load
do your work for you because you're too [whatever]
carry your burdens because you're too [whatever]
take your crap because you're too [whatever]
go for it. Knock yourself out.
Some people don't WANT to get better.
Being miserable is their life's work.
It's what they're good at.
And it meets their needs.
Not me, bucko.
I don't want or need anyone's sympathy.
I don't need pity.
I don't need to act all sad that I lost my job.
Hate me, but I'm going to have all the fun I can muster until I get my next job.
I'm going to spend 40 hours a week looking for work and I'm going to live it up after "work." Just like you do/should do.
I'll have lunch with friends when I can afford it.
I'll spend an evening with friends when I'm available.
I'll see my family when I'm free to do so.
And I'm going to sit on my deck and listen to the birds and the breeze and write to you from time to time.
I'm going to tell you: God. Meets. My. Needs.
**
I can whine about what I don't have
or I can focus on all my many blessings.
Not only am I going to be happy until I find a job,
I'm going to be happy even if/when I do go back to work.
I am not going to waste my life being miserable and making others miserable.
**
The Foundation of My Hope
Saw a sign on a telephone pole. All it said was "Hope."
Nice, but you can hope all you want in [whatever]. Sooner or later your hope must have a worthy basis. Won't be anything that doesn't endure.
Eventually, I believe you'll be faced with the undeniable truth that it's you and God. Just the two of you against the world.
**
My hope is in God.
I know He will care for me. Comfort me. Provide for me. Love me.
And forgive my sins.
He can take all the scraps of my life and weave it into a graceful tapestry.
I look forward to the next few hours. I look forward to tomorrow.
I look forward to enjoying the freedom to plan my own days.
And I look forward to getting a good job again.
Even if there's no light at the end of the tunnel I'm in and I can't see which way the road ahead twists and turns.
It's OK.
I can see where I am right now and it's good.
God is with me.
He is all I need to be happy.
**
May you find joy wherever you are
and wherever you will be.
Hope you are well.
I am.
**
Stats
Just looked up the readership figures for the past week. How many people do you think hit the blog?
Wrong.
Seven.
Only nine people follow it.
I don't care. If I did this to feed on the praise or to be a big shot I would've given up a long time ago.
Writers write because they must.
I'm not the kind of writer who needs readers.
Sorry.
I mean it's OK if you read this stuff. Nice if you like it. Great if you share it.
But this is primarily an act of self-preservation.
No offense, OK?
Oh. Comments. It's true that for a long time I never allowed any to be posted on this blog. The ones all about self-promotion weren't worthy. The ones all about flattering me were embarrassing. And the comments that were clueless made me think only other clueless people read my posts, so they were nixed too.
But. If there's something you want to add, OK.
If it helps others, I probably won't filter it out.
But don't do it for me, OK?
***
Update On Me
I'm fine. This week. A week or so ago was hell.
End of the month bills. No earnings.
End of my rope, so I headed for the hills.
Took a day off and rode for seven hours on The Bike. Cleared my head.
Came home and reignited my passion to look for/find work.
Nothing found. Yet.
***
Update on Friends
Talked to a member of my Great Man/Great Guy Hall of Fame yesterday. Wealthy man. (Tip: Wealthy people hire the people who become rich.)
This guy's wife once told me that in all their years of marriage he had never -- ever -- been unkind to her.
He's a genuinely sincere Christian.
Hurt his back. Called me from his car on the way to physical therapy.
In pain. Already had surgery to relieve the pain.
This is a man who does not drive a 20-year-old Honda with 328,000 miles on the odometer. He can buy any car he wants. He could buy one for every day of the week in different colors.
Has an ailing relative who lives several hours away by car. Too far to go -- in any car -- without causing life-controlling pain. Feels guilty about not going to see his friend/relative. Thinking of a way to lessen the pain of travel ... wants to visit ... feels he must ... but it hurts so much.
Me? Keep the money and the cars and the adoring wife.
I'll take my troubles, thank you,
if it means I can zip & wiggle on The Bike all day.
*
Another member of my Great Guy/Great Man Hall of Fame has a perfect daughter loved by his perfect wife. Asthma. Doctors wanted the child hospitalized, but the family's care was superior, so the docs let the family tend to her at home.
Around the clock. For days. With plenty of prayer. Without griping.
My kids and grandchildren? Fine.
Do I get to visit with them all? No.
Life is imperfect.
Thanks, but I'll keep my troubles and my healthy family.
And I'll pray for those with real problems
not merely my bumps in the road.
*
One member of my Great Guy/Great Man Hall of Fame got fired/laid off from a company he used to lead when it was many times larger.
Ya know how people like me are all bitter about the [omit reference to spurious lineage of former employers] who done us wrong?
This man asked to be allowed to continue to work for free. He's invested much of his life in his job. For him, it's a ministry that he does, as the Bible says, "As unto the Lord, rather than unto men."
They said it was OK for him to come to the office once a week, and to travel for the benefit of the ministry at their expense. They chose wisely.
Three men I admire.
Three different types of troubles.
Three men I hope you meet in heaven who are blessed of God and who would not trade their trials for mine.
Because God only gives us the grace to go through and endure our own trials, not everyone else's. We need God. They need God. That's the deal.
Heard the other day that Andy Stanley said "The only thing worse than discouragement with God is discouragement without God."
Amen.
***
Lights in Tunnels
Rode The Bike to a family reunion earlier this summer.
Took the Blue Ridge Parkway for 100 miles or so. Loved it. Great views. Herds of Harleys hogging the highway, but there are ways around them.
A peaceful path through the hills.
Cool two-lane tunnels add a bit of spice to a rather slow ride. Couple of them are so long and curved that you cannot see the light of day at the end.
On sunny days I wear sunglasses and use a tinted shield on my helmet. Works great. Until you hit a tunnel.
The Bike roars and reverbs in the darkness. (One headlight does not a tunnel illuminate.) But the total blackness doesn't last long. You quickly see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel and you are delivered back into the familiar day.
Just another reason I love riding The Bike. It's more about the path you're on than the ultimate destination.
This particular destination included loving, affirming family at a lakeside home that would flatter the pages of any glossy magazine. Fancy speedboat, comfy pontoon boat, couple of crazoid personal water craft, a canoe or two, and inflatables for those who strayed from the shaded safety of the deck overlooking the lake.
But getting there was as much fun as being there.
That passion for the road I'm travelling -- not merely longing for the destination -- is my goal for this stretch of the road of my life.
***
I'll Be Happy. As Soon As ...
Had a job for many years that occasionally required placating unreasonable religious zealots. Men who believed God gave their radio stations (always called a "ministry" in order to refute any challenge to their decisions) the entire state of Texas, for example. Anyone who dared bring another C/christian radio station into their territory was the enemy of all that was holy.
I've forgotten how many days I wasted trying to negotiate sufficient time between the release of one religious program on one station and airing the same broadcast on another station several cities or states away. Many.
These men of god were defending their own selfish empires, as compared to welcoming any advancement of the Kingdom of God. Gall, in all its glory.
I remember one time when I/we put a fire out. Seemed to make everybody happy (although pleasing God was not part of the goal). Told an advisor in California that the problem was solved and the man at the center of controversy was happy.
I'll never forget what she said. "Of course he's happy. He got his way."
Don't know why I was so surprised by that nugget of wisdom. Still am.
***
The point is: everybody's happy when they get their way.
My goal in this season of life is to be happy, even if I'm not getting my way.
I want a good job. One where I feel that my life is not wasted on talking suckers into spending more than they can afford for something they don't need.
To hell with that, thank you.
*
It's reasonable to presume I'll live another 15 years or so.
I must support myself for that long.
I do not mind working until the day I die.
I do not expect anyone else to provide for me.
(Yes, except God.)
But that's then. This is now.
Today I do not have a job.
I looked for a job today, but I did not find one.
The tunnel remains dark.
Hate me, but I'm happy anyway.
*
I paid the mortgage online. It was $40 more than I mentally budgeted.
No extra fees or charges. I simply forgot the newly adjusted amount.
I am overdrawn. Until tomorrow.
Nothing's going to bounce. No one will go unpaid.
I don't need donations.
Money is tighter than it will be when I get My Great Job.
And more abundant than it will be if I don't.
***
A friend told me of a cashier she met at Wally World. Cast on her leg. Doctor had told her not to return to work too soon. The WW worker has two kids. Now she has doctor bills she didn't have when ends didn't meet last month.
I'll keep my troubles, thank you.
***
Joy in the Darkness
It is my goal to be happy -- not just thankful -- today and tomorrow and the next day.
I am not going to wear sackcloth and ashes because I don't have a job.
I have this impression that I am expected to play the part of a formerly productive member of society who has joined the festered masses who are condemned to eke a miserable existence in Loserdom.
Nonsense.
My life is good.
I am healthy.
I am fed.
One of my daughters loves me. I have friends. I can see, taste, walk, feel, smell (no wisecracks, please) and hear, if you speak up.
I have enough money to help others, at times.
As I say in almost every blog, I am among the most wealthy people in the world. So are you, believe it or not, I don't care who you are.
If you have access to clean water, you're rich.
If you have a roof over your head, you're rich.
If you worry more about being overweight than how to feed your kids, you're rich.
Hate to tell you this ... but, if you're not grateful for your life [insert a phrase here that is much kinder than "you're crazy" or "you're an ingrate" or similar insults].
**
What would it take to make you happy?
More money?
Sounds good, but there are lots of desperate people with lots of money.
Better job?
I understand, but there's more to life than the glory of a good job.
Marriage or divorce?
A gazillion people believe they'd finally be happy if they were married.
A gazillion people believe they'd finally be happy if they were divorced.
But neither marriage nor divorce makes people happy.
It just changes things from one state to another.
The secret is to learn to be happy where you are ... not just hope and/or pray for whatever changes you want that will suddenly bring the bliss that eludes you today.
**
I know. Talk/blogging is cheap.
My kids don't have cancer.
My beloved [whomever] isn't on life support.
I'm not being evicted.
I'm not in jail.
I'm not [insert calamity here].
You're right.
All I have is my measly little problems.
And you can't have them.
Keep your own. Yours are probably WAY worse than mine.
But you do not have to be mastered by your circumstances. If only for a few minutes a day; then, an hour at a time; then, for a day or two.
Or choose to be miserable until [insert hope/dream/relief of your choice here].
Is it easy for you to finish this sentence? Do you know EXACTLY what you'd say? "I'll be happy as soon as ...."
Why not admit what you're saying is "I'll be miserable until ...."
That's more like it, isn't it?
If being miserable makes somebody else carry your load
do your work for you because you're too [whatever]
carry your burdens because you're too [whatever]
take your crap because you're too [whatever]
go for it. Knock yourself out.
Some people don't WANT to get better.
Being miserable is their life's work.
It's what they're good at.
And it meets their needs.
Not me, bucko.
I don't want or need anyone's sympathy.
I don't need pity.
I don't need to act all sad that I lost my job.
Hate me, but I'm going to have all the fun I can muster until I get my next job.
I'm going to spend 40 hours a week looking for work and I'm going to live it up after "work." Just like you do/should do.
I'll have lunch with friends when I can afford it.
I'll spend an evening with friends when I'm available.
I'll see my family when I'm free to do so.
And I'm going to sit on my deck and listen to the birds and the breeze and write to you from time to time.
I'm going to tell you: God. Meets. My. Needs.
**
I can whine about what I don't have
or I can focus on all my many blessings.
Not only am I going to be happy until I find a job,
I'm going to be happy even if/when I do go back to work.
I am not going to waste my life being miserable and making others miserable.
**
The Foundation of My Hope
Saw a sign on a telephone pole. All it said was "Hope."
Nice, but you can hope all you want in [whatever]. Sooner or later your hope must have a worthy basis. Won't be anything that doesn't endure.
Eventually, I believe you'll be faced with the undeniable truth that it's you and God. Just the two of you against the world.
**
My hope is in God.
I know He will care for me. Comfort me. Provide for me. Love me.
And forgive my sins.
He can take all the scraps of my life and weave it into a graceful tapestry.
I look forward to the next few hours. I look forward to tomorrow.
I look forward to enjoying the freedom to plan my own days.
And I look forward to getting a good job again.
Even if there's no light at the end of the tunnel I'm in and I can't see which way the road ahead twists and turns.
It's OK.
I can see where I am right now and it's good.
God is with me.
He is all I need to be happy.
**
May you find joy wherever you are
and wherever you will be.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Two Months Later
Hi.
Hope you are well.
Knew exactly what I wanted to write to you about. Great stuff. All organized and partly pithy.
That was somewhere around 5 AM. It's a little after 2 PM now. Should'a stopped to blog then because I haven't a clue what it was I wanted to share.
All that's clear is the title.
***
Two Months Later
Been out of work for two months.
Thankful to God for unemployment checks and for His extra provision. Nice of Him.
But to be honest with you, I'm not doing all that well with God. Not that I don't believe or hope or ... well, you know. Just that much of the "bring it" bravado is gone.
And I have a GOOD life, not a crummy one like zillions of others.
It's like the difference between a weekend camping trip in nice weather and spending the summer in Alaska. One is fun, one is commitment.
One's gonna be over fast. One's gonna last a long time.
But they're both going to end.
Don't know when/if this season will end.
Hard times last.
Weak people don't.
With the understanding that God can do anything whenever He wants -- without warning, hints or apparent logic -- I do not see any end to my joblessness.
Have I exhausted every possibility? Nope.
Most possibilities, but I haven't applied at [insert someplace lower than Walmart here].
Yet.
***
Almost laughed last week when the moron on the radio reported moronically [You're right. In two mere months, I'm not as nice as I used to be.] how the weekly "first-time" claims for unemployment were slightly higher than expected.
The figure? I think it was 417,000.
Real people.
Really out of work for the first time.
Families really screwed.
[Click here for link.]
Googled the population of Omaha. 414,000.
[Click here for link.]
A week or two earlier the first-time unemployment stat was all the way down to twice the population of Rochester, NY.
Every week the same number of people as in prominent US cities lose their jobs. Only the ones who apply for unemployment are counted.
People with degrees, experience, grey suits and/or red dresses, shoes with tassels and/or designer labels -- people with school loans, kids who play sports, car loans, needy family members, medical bills and nutso amounts of money on credit cards -- lose their jobs, incomes, benefits, prestige, business lives, perks and too often: purpose.
Do you really think we're all gonna get new jobs?
Decent jobs with decent pay?
Benefits?
Sorry. There's a difference between faith and insanity.
***
Not sure when I abandoned my quest for meekness and humility.
Cut me off in traffic and I'll flip you off faster than the speed of screaming.
Mock poor people or "people of Walmart" and I'll nail your judgmental hubris in an instant. I'll do all I can to drive the truth into you that you are only weeks away from ruin. Laugh. Believe in whatever you like.
Seriously? Do you believe your life could not be ruined? Today?
Not beyond God's ability to reconstruct -- just different than it is today. But beyond recognition.
I don't care who you are.
"Doctor! There must be some mistake! I can't have [insert disease here]."
"What do you mean you met someone on the Internet? We have children!"
"You've been arrested? For WHAT?"
"An ACCIDENT? Are they OK?"
"Not gonna pay? But we had insurance for this kinda thing!"
"They can't just make you reenlist? You have a family! Can they?"
"But if you don't pay what you owe me ... I'll go bankrupt!"
"You can't fire me! I've been here for [insert years here]."
"Someone told me they saw you ...."
Anybody still reading this?
Helloooooo????
I know. You think this couldn't happen to you, right?
Trouble ain't comin to your door.
These are only the ramblings of a discouraged loser.
Good for you, Sparky.
Hold on to that thought.
And don't ever read another newspaper about what's happening in Africa or Asia or South America or our own United States.
Obliterate the impressions of millions of people with no electricity after this weekend's hurricane. It's all that liberal media garbage that you don't have to listen to.
Iraq. Iran. Chad. Haiti. Israel. Uganda.
If you're like me, you cannot even name all the countries where war is raging today.
Can you? No.
Because we don't care.
We have our own problems.
Right?
***
Yup.
In two short months, I've changed.
Sorry.
***
I used to love starting conversations by asking, "What would you do with a million dollars?" Began many delightful chats that way. Learned about people's hopes and aspirations. Dreams and desires ... good and reckless.
Now I want to ask everyone: "How would you cope with disaster?"
***
Got my first new car when I was 21. A Gremlin. Loved it. Light blue. Roof rack. Zippy little sucker. Cost me $2,000, brand-new.
Bought a new VW Rabbit Champagne Edition in the 70s. Loved it.
Bought a new VW Fox wagon in the 80s. Loved it.
Might have been another new car. Bunches of nice used ones.
Five convertibles. Five motorcycles.
I forget how many cars.
***
I do remember that one of those new cars was snagged by the law courtesy of my newly "born again" wife in our [first] divorce.
That was the winter of 1976-77. I was a new Christian myself. Began reading the Bible. Began going to church. Stopped smoking pot before/at/after work; haven't smoked since.
We lived in a small town 30 miles from where I worked the afternoon shift on an AM/FM radio station. I hitchhiked to/from that job six days a week in the worst winter you can imagine. (Google it.)
I walked a mile to the on-ramp of the interstate to stick out my thumb. Walked a mile from the off-ramp to my job. It was dark by the time I left work. Cold. Windy. Snowy.
Hitchhiked in frigid mornings and after dark. Thirty miles each way. Through an empty countryside. Sixty miles a day. Six days a week. For at least six weeks. Do the math.
I remember bursting into tears on the way home in some stranger's car when a little girl began singing, "Jesus Loves Me."
So windy on some days going to work (facing west as I hitchhiked) that I didn't have to hold the sign (dayglow green, reversible, with the name of the town where I was going) because the wind pinned it to my chest.
Tough days.
My party pals thought I'd gone nuts and that God was my imaginary friend.
The Christians I met didn't know WHAT to do with me.
Amicable split with my heathen friends at work when I lost my job.
The Program Director hugged me and told me he loved me.
And he did. And I loved him.
Googled him a while back. Big shot on the radio in Baltimore.
Deserved it.
Acrimonious split with my christian wife.
Go figure.
No, I'm not whining.
That was the deal.
And I survived.
Knew it was temporary.
Knew I had many more years to recover.
Knew God would care for me.
My best years were ahead. Seriously.
Not that I knew it. But they were.
Kids. Ministry. Grandchildren.
The Bike. Maybe even you.
Divorces. Penury. A child who not only didn't want me at her christian baptism, but was angry that I even found out about it.
Tough stuff.
Not too tough to endure.
And/or thrive.
So far.
But it's getting old.
Even though it isn't.
And I'm not doing as well as I should.
Even though I should.
***
Now do you see why I am thankful for a car with 327,592 miles on it?
It's mine. Nobody's gonna have a nice cop interrupt my newscast with a warrant for its arrest.
Yes, it is embarrassing to drive a car with the back window duct-taped shut. Not exactly the Babemobile.
But any woman who won't like me because of my car is not a woman I would want to have a future with anyway. Saves time, in the long run. Seriously.
What man can't get a date in a [insert car a hottie would like here]?
I don't want a woman who wants to date my car. Or bike. Or clothes.
***
And while we're on this honesty kick, let's get this straight.
I overcompensate about my absence of a love life by teasing about dating movie stars, etc.
The best date I've had in years? Yesterday.
Went to church with a lovely lady I met on Facebook. Went to lunch with her afterward. Jim, her husband, paid for my meal. He's a great guy with a great wife.
That's all the dating I want/need right now, thanks.
As I've said before, the last woman I kissed was my last wife. Seven years ago.
That's the deal.
Is it getting old?
Yup.
Can I endure?
Yup.
Would I rather be happily married to a caring, dedicated woman?
Show me some people who are happily married.
Then ask me.
***
Self-Loathing
Having the hardest time with me.
Do NOT like the way I freaked out at/over AT&T when it took more than six hours to activate a cell phone recently. Finally drove 25 miles RT to the store.
The solution? I had inserted the SIM card improperly. My mistake. Thought it would only go in ONE way. Nope. Nothing is foolproof to some fools.
I'll bet I swore 100 times that day.
Lost my temper. Lost my cool. Lost my self-control.
Lost my self-respect.
***
Some people will think I'm always that way.
Some people will think I could never be that way.
Some people will think they've been that way.
Some people will think they could not be that way.
Stay tuned.
***
What would it take to freak you out?
How would you handle it?
What'cha gonna do when the well runs dry? Or the levee breaks?
I don't care what you'd do with a million dollars.
How are you gonna cope with hardship?
Who will you be without your fancy car/house/clothes/whatever?
Don't think for a minute that God loves you so much you won't have hard times. Read the Bible. It's about the God who cares for you IN trials, not a bodyguard who keeps you from trouble.
That's the deal, folks.
God might have no plans to keep trouble from your door.
I don't know. Neither do you.
God has plans for you to trust Him in the valley of the shadow of debt and death. To know for certain that He will never leave you nor forsake you.
Even when all else is lost.
Ready?
***
Be thankful for the good days.
Be thankful in the hard days.
This life isn't the one that lasts forever.
The next one does.
That's the one where everything is perfect.
Not this one.
That's the kingdom where God reigns.
Not this one.
Because of heaven (and not the lure of seven virgins waiting for my arrival) I can and will endure this world. By God's grace, strength and encouragement.
God loves me.
God cares for me and my loved ones.
Life is good, even if life isn't perfect.
I have hope that God will weave everything together and make something beautiful of my life and existence.
I have hope that God will comfort me
even on days when I'm raging at AT&T
in spite of my sin
because no one can be good enough to earn God's love
and God will offer me whatever it takes to endure.
Even if the path does not include cars, jobs, love or adoring family.
Even if it's just the two of us.
I'll make it.
Even if I want to give up.
Even if I want to vomit when rich people complain about being poor.
Or my feelings are hurt when poor people -- like me -- are dissed.
You can make it too.
Maybe easier than me; you probably have less baggage to carry.
And you're probably nicer.
Say it with me:
"We can make it."
It's true.
Even when it doesn't seem true.
***
If only we'd listen to God when He says
"Do not be afraid."
Hope you are well.
Knew exactly what I wanted to write to you about. Great stuff. All organized and partly pithy.
That was somewhere around 5 AM. It's a little after 2 PM now. Should'a stopped to blog then because I haven't a clue what it was I wanted to share.
All that's clear is the title.
***
Two Months Later
Been out of work for two months.
Thankful to God for unemployment checks and for His extra provision. Nice of Him.
But to be honest with you, I'm not doing all that well with God. Not that I don't believe or hope or ... well, you know. Just that much of the "bring it" bravado is gone.
And I have a GOOD life, not a crummy one like zillions of others.
It's like the difference between a weekend camping trip in nice weather and spending the summer in Alaska. One is fun, one is commitment.
One's gonna be over fast. One's gonna last a long time.
But they're both going to end.
Don't know when/if this season will end.
Hard times last.
Weak people don't.
With the understanding that God can do anything whenever He wants -- without warning, hints or apparent logic -- I do not see any end to my joblessness.
Have I exhausted every possibility? Nope.
Most possibilities, but I haven't applied at [insert someplace lower than Walmart here].
Yet.
***
Almost laughed last week when the moron on the radio reported moronically [You're right. In two mere months, I'm not as nice as I used to be.] how the weekly "first-time" claims for unemployment were slightly higher than expected.
The figure? I think it was 417,000.
Real people.
Really out of work for the first time.
Families really screwed.
[Click here for link.]
Googled the population of Omaha. 414,000.
[Click here for link.]
A week or two earlier the first-time unemployment stat was all the way down to twice the population of Rochester, NY.
Every week the same number of people as in prominent US cities lose their jobs. Only the ones who apply for unemployment are counted.
People with degrees, experience, grey suits and/or red dresses, shoes with tassels and/or designer labels -- people with school loans, kids who play sports, car loans, needy family members, medical bills and nutso amounts of money on credit cards -- lose their jobs, incomes, benefits, prestige, business lives, perks and too often: purpose.
Do you really think we're all gonna get new jobs?
Decent jobs with decent pay?
Benefits?
Sorry. There's a difference between faith and insanity.
***
Not sure when I abandoned my quest for meekness and humility.
Cut me off in traffic and I'll flip you off faster than the speed of screaming.
Mock poor people or "people of Walmart" and I'll nail your judgmental hubris in an instant. I'll do all I can to drive the truth into you that you are only weeks away from ruin. Laugh. Believe in whatever you like.
Seriously? Do you believe your life could not be ruined? Today?
Not beyond God's ability to reconstruct -- just different than it is today. But beyond recognition.
I don't care who you are.
"Doctor! There must be some mistake! I can't have [insert disease here]."
"What do you mean you met someone on the Internet? We have children!"
"You've been arrested? For WHAT?"
"An ACCIDENT? Are they OK?"
"Not gonna pay? But we had insurance for this kinda thing!"
"They can't just make you reenlist? You have a family! Can they?"
"But if you don't pay what you owe me ... I'll go bankrupt!"
"You can't fire me! I've been here for [insert years here]."
"Someone told me they saw you ...."
Anybody still reading this?
Helloooooo????
I know. You think this couldn't happen to you, right?
Trouble ain't comin to your door.
These are only the ramblings of a discouraged loser.
Good for you, Sparky.
Hold on to that thought.
And don't ever read another newspaper about what's happening in Africa or Asia or South America or our own United States.
Obliterate the impressions of millions of people with no electricity after this weekend's hurricane. It's all that liberal media garbage that you don't have to listen to.
Iraq. Iran. Chad. Haiti. Israel. Uganda.
If you're like me, you cannot even name all the countries where war is raging today.
Can you? No.
Because we don't care.
We have our own problems.
Right?
***
Yup.
In two short months, I've changed.
Sorry.
***
I used to love starting conversations by asking, "What would you do with a million dollars?" Began many delightful chats that way. Learned about people's hopes and aspirations. Dreams and desires ... good and reckless.
Now I want to ask everyone: "How would you cope with disaster?"
***
Got my first new car when I was 21. A Gremlin. Loved it. Light blue. Roof rack. Zippy little sucker. Cost me $2,000, brand-new.
Bought a new VW Rabbit Champagne Edition in the 70s. Loved it.
Bought a new VW Fox wagon in the 80s. Loved it.
Might have been another new car. Bunches of nice used ones.
Five convertibles. Five motorcycles.
I forget how many cars.
***
I do remember that one of those new cars was snagged by the law courtesy of my newly "born again" wife in our [first] divorce.
That was the winter of 1976-77. I was a new Christian myself. Began reading the Bible. Began going to church. Stopped smoking pot before/at/after work; haven't smoked since.
We lived in a small town 30 miles from where I worked the afternoon shift on an AM/FM radio station. I hitchhiked to/from that job six days a week in the worst winter you can imagine. (Google it.)
I walked a mile to the on-ramp of the interstate to stick out my thumb. Walked a mile from the off-ramp to my job. It was dark by the time I left work. Cold. Windy. Snowy.
Hitchhiked in frigid mornings and after dark. Thirty miles each way. Through an empty countryside. Sixty miles a day. Six days a week. For at least six weeks. Do the math.
I remember bursting into tears on the way home in some stranger's car when a little girl began singing, "Jesus Loves Me."
So windy on some days going to work (facing west as I hitchhiked) that I didn't have to hold the sign (dayglow green, reversible, with the name of the town where I was going) because the wind pinned it to my chest.
Tough days.
My party pals thought I'd gone nuts and that God was my imaginary friend.
The Christians I met didn't know WHAT to do with me.
Amicable split with my heathen friends at work when I lost my job.
The Program Director hugged me and told me he loved me.
And he did. And I loved him.
Googled him a while back. Big shot on the radio in Baltimore.
Deserved it.
Acrimonious split with my christian wife.
Go figure.
No, I'm not whining.
That was the deal.
And I survived.
Knew it was temporary.
Knew I had many more years to recover.
Knew God would care for me.
My best years were ahead. Seriously.
Not that I knew it. But they were.
Kids. Ministry. Grandchildren.
The Bike. Maybe even you.
Divorces. Penury. A child who not only didn't want me at her christian baptism, but was angry that I even found out about it.
Tough stuff.
Not too tough to endure.
And/or thrive.
So far.
But it's getting old.
Even though it isn't.
And I'm not doing as well as I should.
Even though I should.
***
Now do you see why I am thankful for a car with 327,592 miles on it?
It's mine. Nobody's gonna have a nice cop interrupt my newscast with a warrant for its arrest.
Yes, it is embarrassing to drive a car with the back window duct-taped shut. Not exactly the Babemobile.
But any woman who won't like me because of my car is not a woman I would want to have a future with anyway. Saves time, in the long run. Seriously.
What man can't get a date in a [insert car a hottie would like here]?
I don't want a woman who wants to date my car. Or bike. Or clothes.
***
And while we're on this honesty kick, let's get this straight.
I overcompensate about my absence of a love life by teasing about dating movie stars, etc.
The best date I've had in years? Yesterday.
Went to church with a lovely lady I met on Facebook. Went to lunch with her afterward. Jim, her husband, paid for my meal. He's a great guy with a great wife.
That's all the dating I want/need right now, thanks.
As I've said before, the last woman I kissed was my last wife. Seven years ago.
That's the deal.
Is it getting old?
Yup.
Can I endure?
Yup.
Would I rather be happily married to a caring, dedicated woman?
Show me some people who are happily married.
Then ask me.
***
Self-Loathing
Having the hardest time with me.
Do NOT like the way I freaked out at/over AT&T when it took more than six hours to activate a cell phone recently. Finally drove 25 miles RT to the store.
The solution? I had inserted the SIM card improperly. My mistake. Thought it would only go in ONE way. Nope. Nothing is foolproof to some fools.
I'll bet I swore 100 times that day.
Lost my temper. Lost my cool. Lost my self-control.
Lost my self-respect.
***
Some people will think I'm always that way.
Some people will think I could never be that way.
Some people will think they've been that way.
Some people will think they could not be that way.
Stay tuned.
***
What would it take to freak you out?
How would you handle it?
What'cha gonna do when the well runs dry? Or the levee breaks?
I don't care what you'd do with a million dollars.
How are you gonna cope with hardship?
Who will you be without your fancy car/house/clothes/whatever?
Don't think for a minute that God loves you so much you won't have hard times. Read the Bible. It's about the God who cares for you IN trials, not a bodyguard who keeps you from trouble.
That's the deal, folks.
God might have no plans to keep trouble from your door.
I don't know. Neither do you.
God has plans for you to trust Him in the valley of the shadow of debt and death. To know for certain that He will never leave you nor forsake you.
Even when all else is lost.
Ready?
***
Be thankful for the good days.
Be thankful in the hard days.
This life isn't the one that lasts forever.
The next one does.
That's the one where everything is perfect.
Not this one.
That's the kingdom where God reigns.
Not this one.
Because of heaven (and not the lure of seven virgins waiting for my arrival) I can and will endure this world. By God's grace, strength and encouragement.
God loves me.
God cares for me and my loved ones.
Life is good, even if life isn't perfect.
I have hope that God will weave everything together and make something beautiful of my life and existence.
I have hope that God will comfort me
even on days when I'm raging at AT&T
in spite of my sin
because no one can be good enough to earn God's love
and God will offer me whatever it takes to endure.
Even if the path does not include cars, jobs, love or adoring family.
Even if it's just the two of us.
I'll make it.
Even if I want to give up.
Even if I want to vomit when rich people complain about being poor.
Or my feelings are hurt when poor people -- like me -- are dissed.
You can make it too.
Maybe easier than me; you probably have less baggage to carry.
And you're probably nicer.
Say it with me:
"We can make it."
It's true.
Even when it doesn't seem true.
***
If only we'd listen to God when He says
"Do not be afraid."
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Expectations
Hi.
Hope you are well.
Sorry I haven't written more, but ... to tell you the truth ... I haven't been doing all that well and I refuse to whine about it.
Well, I sort of refuse.
**
Update
First, I want to thank God that I am getting unemployment benefits (UB) from my last employer. Never expected to get them.
When they fired my boss a few months back, he applied for UB. They fought to keep him from getting UB. A hearing was scheduled to decide the case. My old boss gave me a [take a stab at spelling "subpoena" here] to testify at the hearing -- although I didn't have a clue what I was going to be asked or what anybody expected me to know or say.
The Company (TC) we worked for hired an attorney to represent *me* at that hearing. Seriously. Had this attorney's cell number and home number and when I called he answered on the first ring. Told the attorney that TC made me buy my own pens for work and asked why they would hire a lawyer to defend ME at the UB hearing for somebody else. Got a "because they love you" b/s response.
Figured out later it was cheaper for TC to hire attorneys to fight UB claims than to pay UB to workers unjustly fired.
Figured when it was my turn to get a UB hearing they'd fight just as hard against me. Figured only God could defeat them. [Please note: I did not call them "merciless dogs."]
Expected a battle. Expected to argue my case. Expected God to intercede. Didn't expect to ever be granted UB.
TC never opposed my benefits. No hearing. No lawyers. No battle.
Only the foolish would miss God's hand at work. Call it faith or idiocy, I know God delivered me -- again -- from the hands of a mighty foe.
I am thankful.
**
These Days
Still find being out of work and out of touch with people exceptionally hard. I try to balance looking for work with getting out of the house.
Pondered that popular platitude "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result."
Figured it's insane to continue to look for work over and over, expecting to get a job. Do it anyway, but I call it perseverance.
Figured it's insane to be on the lookout (as compared to "prowl") for a woman to have, hold and enjoy. Do it anyway, but I call it being a romantic.
But we all know it's insanity.
Take finding a job, for instance. There are precisely a gazillionty-seven bazillion, 843 zillion, 444 teramillion, 25 million, 12 thousand and nine people out of work.
People who are fortunate enough to be on UB have received them, on average, for 40 weeks. It's quite common for companies to reject all job applications from people who have been unemployed for more than six months.
(People who have been out of work for over a year -- unless they're still getting UB -- are not counted by the government as unemployed.)
Want a flash mob? Advertise a job in the paper or online and tell applicants to show up someplace for an interview. You could have 5,000 people anywhere you want, whenever you want.
That's the job market.
Bet I know 50 attractive single women. Bet each one knows dozens of less attractive single guys. Bet we all know two dozen people in bad marriages. Bet most of us don't know a dozen people who have been in love with the same person for more than a year.
That's the love market.
Relationships are crazy. But for the most part, we all say we're willing to work for a good one. Even though it's as crazy as hoping we'll get good jobs someday.
**
A Lesson From The Bike
Motorcycles are operated by individuals who can do it all themselves without asking for any assistance.
You want the engine to start? Start it yourself.
Want to turn left? Turn left.
Wanna stop? Stop.
But you're on your own, bucko.
Looking cool won't start your engine or help you turn or stop. It's up to you and nobody else. Leather and chrome don't do much at 75 mph.
**
Went to lunch with a friend. He had surgery and his arm was in a sling. He asked if I minded cutting up the steak he ordered because his arm was skronked. I was happy to help.
There ain't nothin like that on a bike.
You are on your own.
You cannot expect any help from anyone while you're riding.
And I love it.
But what you gain by being independent
you lose by not being interdependent.
Not dependent, mind you.
Just that riding a bike isn't a team sport. At least not the way that I ride.
And my way does more to isolate me from others
than connect me to/with others.
That's an area where I need to grow and mature.
**
Lessons from a Raffle
Rode with many others on a charity ride sponsored by the Hall County Sheriff's department. Nice people. Nice day. Nice ride.
LOVE having a police escort that lets you blast through red lights and stop signs, riding in a pack with other bikes.
The fluidity of zipping and wiggling with others gets a tad primordial. Kinda like being a duck flying in harmony and unison with others, following eons-old urges to vee our way to safety, food and a chance to hit on the lady duck you've flown behind all day.
After an hour or so of riding your motorcycle with the pack, you get an urge to flap your wings and quack.
But you don't.
Because that would be crazy
and you'd crash your bike
and die a horrible death.
It's not good to follow all your urges; especially in Las Vegas or with women named "Boom-Boom" or guys they call "Rodent."
But I digress.
After the ride, there was a raffle.
I won the world's ugliest T-shirt. Wouldn't dare use it to shine The Bike because I don't want to know how it would get even with me for rubbing something so ugly on it. I mean, what if the ugly wore off? Huh?
Also won a set of tools. Drill bits, they said. A few appeared to be what violent ninjas throw a mile or so to silently maim/murder their helpless prey. Not being a ninja (anymore), I gave them away.
The raffle became increasingly frustrating. People kept winning free oil changes. Bunches of them.
I cleverly reminded God that HIS car -- on loan to me -- needed an oil change and that WE didn't exactly have a bunch of money to waste on oil changes (given opportunities to spend $25 on motorcycle charity rides and valuable raffle tickets).
Gave God a snippy "That's OK!" each time guys with plenty of money won free oil changes and I didn't. But it bothered me.
God can do anything, right?
God loves me, right?
I want/need an oil change and here's a perfect way for God to give me one for FREE. All He has to do is have them pick MY number. What's so hard about that?
Nope, I didn't win an oil change.
Therefore I was not going to get a free oil change.
Because ... you cannot expect it to work any other way at a raffle.
When the party was over, I walked back through the crowd toward my bike. I had only seen four or five people that I knew. Didn't take long to say goodbye.
Almost bumped into a stranger. His face was all scrunched up -- confused looking -- but like he was sucking on a lemon at the same time. This total stranger looks RIGHT at me and he says right TO me: "Do you live in South Hall [county]?"
Told him I did.
He mumbled something about living WAY too far from there to be able to use "this" and he handed me a business card from the place down the road from me. It was an authorization for a free oil change.
God didn't need me to win a raffle.
God wasn't intimidated by my frustration that He didn't do things my way.
He waited until I gave up all hope. Don't ask me why.
Then He dropped an oil change into my hand.
Because He loves me.
And because He can do anything.
Even when you least expect it.
***
Expectations
I could talk for an hour about expectations.
(But, if you know me, you know I could talk for an hour about anything. And I will, if you don't suddenly remember that you'd love to listen but your grandmother just died. Again.)
What you expect determines your mental and physical health, your spiritual health and your financial health too, in my humble opinion.
Expectations are the bull's-eyes on the targets we set for our lives.
Expect a perfect spouse and you're doomed.
Expect perfect kids/parents and you're doomed.
Expect perfect coworkers/neighbors/siblings/friends and you're doomed.
Expect all your investments to prosper and you're doomed.
Set reasonable expectations and you will rarely be disappointed.
Always expect the worst and you will never be disappointed ... or content.
**
My Expectations
I don't expect you to like my expectations.
I'm not the happiest guy on earth and I have had my share of heartaches. I think I'm a realist. With that in mind, here are a few things I expect. I'll follow them with a few hopes and desires.
I expect I will not always have great health.
I do not expect to always have an abundance of money.
I do not expect my car and household appliances to last forever.
I expect that I will get speeding tickets if I drive/ride too fast.
I expect to die someday.
I expect that everyone I know will die someday.
I expect to be sad when friends die, even if it's inevitable.
I expect a few people will be sad when I die.
I expect I will be mugged/robbed or worse if I am in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I expect wisdom to protect me from foolish mistakes. For example, I expect I will lose my money if I make foolish investments.
I expect my friends and family to be imperfect.
I expect my enemies will be merciless and malevolent.
I expect God will forgive my sins and care for me in good times and bad.
I do not expect to ever have another great job, as I have had in the past.
I do not expect to be loved by a faithful, gracious woman.
I do not expect to be happily married to a godly woman.
I do not expect all my friends to be faithful to me or one another.
I do not expect my daughters to love me or care for me when I'm old.
I do not expect anyone to meet my needs.
I expect God will meet my needs; maybe through you, my kids, my family or others, but my reliance will be on God, not others.
I expect to fail God.
I expect Him to forgive me.
I expect to fail the people in my life.
I do not expect them to forgive me.
I expect to spend eternity in heaven with God.
I do not expect to be worthy of heaven.
**
My Hopes
I hope to use my gifts and talents in a job that will pay my bills.
I hope to have friends to love and enjoy.
I hope to find a woman to share my life with and to share hers with me.
I hope to have good health, but I know I must eat better and exercise more.
I hope to have good relationships with my daughters and their families.
I hope my car won't break down, but I know I must maintain it wisely.
I hope my friends will be honest with me.
I hope I will always be honest with my friends.
I hope I can stay in my home for many years.
I hope I can earn enough money to do so.
I don't have to hope God will provide for me wherever I end up, because I know He will.
I hope my friends and family will have long, healthy lives.
I hope to "be there" for my friends in times of need.
I hope to have friends who will help me ... if I can ever bring myself to ask for help. I also hope to never have to ask for help from anyone.
**
I hope you will find the peace that comes from having faith in God.
I hope you will ask Him to forgive your sins.
I hope you will believe Jesus Christ died to pay the penalty for your sins.
I hope you will find joy in serving others.
I hope you have friends and family who enjoy serving you.
I hope you are satisfied with your life ... not angry or resentful that some expectations were unmet.
I hope we can temper our expectations.
I hope we can have enormous dreams.
I hope we will forgive God for not meeting all our expectations.
I hope we will learn to be thankful for what we have.
I hope God will use us to love and care for others, on His behalf.
I hope your life is as good as mine -- or better -- and that you'll tell others how great God has been to you and your loved ones.
Hope you are well.
Sorry I haven't written more, but ... to tell you the truth ... I haven't been doing all that well and I refuse to whine about it.
Well, I sort of refuse.
**
Update
First, I want to thank God that I am getting unemployment benefits (UB) from my last employer. Never expected to get them.
When they fired my boss a few months back, he applied for UB. They fought to keep him from getting UB. A hearing was scheduled to decide the case. My old boss gave me a [take a stab at spelling "subpoena" here] to testify at the hearing -- although I didn't have a clue what I was going to be asked or what anybody expected me to know or say.
The Company (TC) we worked for hired an attorney to represent *me* at that hearing. Seriously. Had this attorney's cell number and home number and when I called he answered on the first ring. Told the attorney that TC made me buy my own pens for work and asked why they would hire a lawyer to defend ME at the UB hearing for somebody else. Got a "because they love you" b/s response.
Figured out later it was cheaper for TC to hire attorneys to fight UB claims than to pay UB to workers unjustly fired.
Figured when it was my turn to get a UB hearing they'd fight just as hard against me. Figured only God could defeat them. [Please note: I did not call them "merciless dogs."]
Expected a battle. Expected to argue my case. Expected God to intercede. Didn't expect to ever be granted UB.
TC never opposed my benefits. No hearing. No lawyers. No battle.
Only the foolish would miss God's hand at work. Call it faith or idiocy, I know God delivered me -- again -- from the hands of a mighty foe.
I am thankful.
**
These Days
Still find being out of work and out of touch with people exceptionally hard. I try to balance looking for work with getting out of the house.
Pondered that popular platitude "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result."
Figured it's insane to continue to look for work over and over, expecting to get a job. Do it anyway, but I call it perseverance.
Figured it's insane to be on the lookout (as compared to "prowl") for a woman to have, hold and enjoy. Do it anyway, but I call it being a romantic.
But we all know it's insanity.
Take finding a job, for instance. There are precisely a gazillionty-seven bazillion, 843 zillion, 444 teramillion, 25 million, 12 thousand and nine people out of work.
People who are fortunate enough to be on UB have received them, on average, for 40 weeks. It's quite common for companies to reject all job applications from people who have been unemployed for more than six months.
(People who have been out of work for over a year -- unless they're still getting UB -- are not counted by the government as unemployed.)
Want a flash mob? Advertise a job in the paper or online and tell applicants to show up someplace for an interview. You could have 5,000 people anywhere you want, whenever you want.
That's the job market.
Bet I know 50 attractive single women. Bet each one knows dozens of less attractive single guys. Bet we all know two dozen people in bad marriages. Bet most of us don't know a dozen people who have been in love with the same person for more than a year.
That's the love market.
Relationships are crazy. But for the most part, we all say we're willing to work for a good one. Even though it's as crazy as hoping we'll get good jobs someday.
**
A Lesson From The Bike
You want the engine to start? Start it yourself.
Want to turn left? Turn left.
Wanna stop? Stop.
But you're on your own, bucko.
Looking cool won't start your engine or help you turn or stop. It's up to you and nobody else. Leather and chrome don't do much at 75 mph.
**
Went to lunch with a friend. He had surgery and his arm was in a sling. He asked if I minded cutting up the steak he ordered because his arm was skronked. I was happy to help.
There ain't nothin like that on a bike.
You are on your own.
You cannot expect any help from anyone while you're riding.
And I love it.
But what you gain by being independent
you lose by not being interdependent.
Not dependent, mind you.
Just that riding a bike isn't a team sport. At least not the way that I ride.
And my way does more to isolate me from others
than connect me to/with others.
That's an area where I need to grow and mature.
**
Lessons from a Raffle
Rode with many others on a charity ride sponsored by the Hall County Sheriff's department. Nice people. Nice day. Nice ride.
LOVE having a police escort that lets you blast through red lights and stop signs, riding in a pack with other bikes.
The fluidity of zipping and wiggling with others gets a tad primordial. Kinda like being a duck flying in harmony and unison with others, following eons-old urges to vee our way to safety, food and a chance to hit on the lady duck you've flown behind all day.
After an hour or so of riding your motorcycle with the pack, you get an urge to flap your wings and quack.
But you don't.
Because that would be crazy
and you'd crash your bike
and die a horrible death.
It's not good to follow all your urges; especially in Las Vegas or with women named "Boom-Boom" or guys they call "Rodent."
But I digress.
After the ride, there was a raffle.
I won the world's ugliest T-shirt. Wouldn't dare use it to shine The Bike because I don't want to know how it would get even with me for rubbing something so ugly on it. I mean, what if the ugly wore off? Huh?
Also won a set of tools. Drill bits, they said. A few appeared to be what violent ninjas throw a mile or so to silently maim/murder their helpless prey. Not being a ninja (anymore), I gave them away.
The raffle became increasingly frustrating. People kept winning free oil changes. Bunches of them.
I cleverly reminded God that HIS car -- on loan to me -- needed an oil change and that WE didn't exactly have a bunch of money to waste on oil changes (given opportunities to spend $25 on motorcycle charity rides and valuable raffle tickets).
Gave God a snippy "That's OK!" each time guys with plenty of money won free oil changes and I didn't. But it bothered me.
God can do anything, right?
God loves me, right?
I want/need an oil change and here's a perfect way for God to give me one for FREE. All He has to do is have them pick MY number. What's so hard about that?
Nope, I didn't win an oil change.
Therefore I was not going to get a free oil change.
Because ... you cannot expect it to work any other way at a raffle.
When the party was over, I walked back through the crowd toward my bike. I had only seen four or five people that I knew. Didn't take long to say goodbye.
Almost bumped into a stranger. His face was all scrunched up -- confused looking -- but like he was sucking on a lemon at the same time. This total stranger looks RIGHT at me and he says right TO me: "Do you live in South Hall [county]?"
Told him I did.
He mumbled something about living WAY too far from there to be able to use "this" and he handed me a business card from the place down the road from me. It was an authorization for a free oil change.
God didn't need me to win a raffle.
God wasn't intimidated by my frustration that He didn't do things my way.
He waited until I gave up all hope. Don't ask me why.
Then He dropped an oil change into my hand.
Because He loves me.
And because He can do anything.
Even when you least expect it.
***
Expectations
I could talk for an hour about expectations.
(But, if you know me, you know I could talk for an hour about anything. And I will, if you don't suddenly remember that you'd love to listen but your grandmother just died. Again.)
What you expect determines your mental and physical health, your spiritual health and your financial health too, in my humble opinion.
Expectations are the bull's-eyes on the targets we set for our lives.
Expect a perfect spouse and you're doomed.
Expect perfect kids/parents and you're doomed.
Expect perfect coworkers/neighbors/siblings/friends and you're doomed.
Expect all your investments to prosper and you're doomed.
Set reasonable expectations and you will rarely be disappointed.
Always expect the worst and you will never be disappointed ... or content.
**
My Expectations
I don't expect you to like my expectations.
I'm not the happiest guy on earth and I have had my share of heartaches. I think I'm a realist. With that in mind, here are a few things I expect. I'll follow them with a few hopes and desires.
I expect I will not always have great health.
I do not expect to always have an abundance of money.
I do not expect my car and household appliances to last forever.
I expect that I will get speeding tickets if I drive/ride too fast.
I expect to die someday.
I expect that everyone I know will die someday.
I expect to be sad when friends die, even if it's inevitable.
I expect a few people will be sad when I die.
I expect I will be mugged/robbed or worse if I am in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I expect wisdom to protect me from foolish mistakes. For example, I expect I will lose my money if I make foolish investments.
I expect my friends and family to be imperfect.
I expect my enemies will be merciless and malevolent.
I expect God will forgive my sins and care for me in good times and bad.
I do not expect to ever have another great job, as I have had in the past.
I do not expect to be loved by a faithful, gracious woman.
I do not expect to be happily married to a godly woman.
I do not expect all my friends to be faithful to me or one another.
I do not expect my daughters to love me or care for me when I'm old.
I do not expect anyone to meet my needs.
I expect God will meet my needs; maybe through you, my kids, my family or others, but my reliance will be on God, not others.
I expect to fail God.
I expect Him to forgive me.
I expect to fail the people in my life.
I do not expect them to forgive me.
I expect to spend eternity in heaven with God.
I do not expect to be worthy of heaven.
**
My Hopes
I hope to use my gifts and talents in a job that will pay my bills.
I hope to have friends to love and enjoy.
I hope to find a woman to share my life with and to share hers with me.
I hope to have good health, but I know I must eat better and exercise more.
I hope to have good relationships with my daughters and their families.
I hope my car won't break down, but I know I must maintain it wisely.
I hope my friends will be honest with me.
I hope I will always be honest with my friends.
I hope I can stay in my home for many years.
I hope I can earn enough money to do so.
I don't have to hope God will provide for me wherever I end up, because I know He will.
I hope my friends and family will have long, healthy lives.
I hope to "be there" for my friends in times of need.
I hope to have friends who will help me ... if I can ever bring myself to ask for help. I also hope to never have to ask for help from anyone.
**
I hope you will find the peace that comes from having faith in God.
I hope you will ask Him to forgive your sins.
I hope you will believe Jesus Christ died to pay the penalty for your sins.
I hope you will find joy in serving others.
I hope you have friends and family who enjoy serving you.
I hope you are satisfied with your life ... not angry or resentful that some expectations were unmet.
I hope we can temper our expectations.
I hope we can have enormous dreams.
I hope we will forgive God for not meeting all our expectations.
I hope we will learn to be thankful for what we have.
I hope God will use us to love and care for others, on His behalf.
I hope your life is as good as mine -- or better -- and that you'll tell others how great God has been to you and your loved ones.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
21 Reasons Why Stevie Wonder Should be President
Hi.
Struck me today that Stevie Wonder would be a far better president than Barack Obama, imho. Not being a racist, I decided to tease Obama without regard to the color of his skin. (Not doing so would be racism, from my perspective.)
So, I offer you 21 reasons why Stevie Wonder would be a better president than Barack Obama. (Or you.)
#1 - Stevie Wonder would never hug the Queen of England the first time they met. The Queen of England, however, would hug him.
#2 - Stevie Wonder would not waste as much time as Obama playing basketball.
#3 - Stevie Wonder would unite Democrats and Republicans. All he'd have to do is address a joint session of Congress and say, "Lemme hear you say, YEAAAAAHHH!" (Dems: "Yeah!") (Reps: "Yeah!") (Conservatives: "All righty now!") (Liberals: "Save the whales!")
#4 - If Stevie Wonder went on TV to address America, EVERYBODY would watch. Especially if he sang "Superstitious" to investors who were afraid of the stock market.
#5 - Stevie Wonder would give great speeches without relying on a Teleprompter.
#6 - It doesn't matter that Stevie Wonder is black. He'd be cool if he were green and had Martian feelers on his forehead. Even you are more cool than Obama.
#7 - Stevie Wonder knows what it's like to be in business. He knows what it costs to hire people. He knows what it's like to have a job and earn a living.
#8 - Stevie Wonder could get Martha and the Vandellas to get the wackos in London to dance in the streets, not riot.
#9 - Stevie Wonder could pay off the national debt by airing White House dinners and the entertainment afterward on pay-per-view television.
#10 - Stevie Wonder knows what it's like to overcome a handicap without blaming it on George W. Bush.
#11 - Stevie Wonder would appreciate my writing and care that I am out of work. He would hire me to write his speeches.
#12 - Stevie Wonder would give us a cool holiday for August: Take a Honky to the Hood Day. White folks could learn that actual human beings live there and that they're just as afraid of white people as the white people are of blacks. White people could try to teach blacks to drink green tea and eat turkey burgers. Blacks could try to teach whites to eat fried chicken and ribs and watermelon without getting it all over themselves.
#13 - Stevie Wonder would not let his mother-in-law live in the White House.
#14 - Stevie Wonder would not be afraid to let Hillary Clinton speak in public.
#15 - Stevie Wonder would be afraid to let Joe Biden speak in public.
#16 - Stevie Wonder would serve White House dinner guests fine bottled wine in individually wrapped small paper bags just to watch the expressions on their faces.
#17 - Stevie Wonder would put cool rims on the presidential limo.
#18 - Stevie Wonder would never abandon Israel, because he knows what it's like to be hated just because you are in the minority.
#19 - Stevie Wonder would make public transportation for the poor a higher priority than flying 200 people to Honolulu for his vacation.
#20 - Stevie Wonder would not be afraid of punks, like the creep who rules Iran, and he would not allow America to be bullied.
#21 - Everybody already loves and trusts Stevie Wonder. People PAY to see him. He doesn't have to read the polls to know what Americans want and need. If he ran America like a good concert, we'd all be happy, working and we'd be better dancers.
***
How many reasons could you add? Worthy suggestions will be posted below.
May God bless President Obama. And Stevie Wonder.
I wish Obama well. I only wish I could bid him "Farewell!"
:~)
Struck me today that Stevie Wonder would be a far better president than Barack Obama, imho. Not being a racist, I decided to tease Obama without regard to the color of his skin. (Not doing so would be racism, from my perspective.)
So, I offer you 21 reasons why Stevie Wonder would be a better president than Barack Obama. (Or you.)
#1 - Stevie Wonder would never hug the Queen of England the first time they met. The Queen of England, however, would hug him.
#2 - Stevie Wonder would not waste as much time as Obama playing basketball.
#3 - Stevie Wonder would unite Democrats and Republicans. All he'd have to do is address a joint session of Congress and say, "Lemme hear you say, YEAAAAAHHH!" (Dems: "Yeah!") (Reps: "Yeah!") (Conservatives: "All righty now!") (Liberals: "Save the whales!")
#4 - If Stevie Wonder went on TV to address America, EVERYBODY would watch. Especially if he sang "Superstitious" to investors who were afraid of the stock market.
#5 - Stevie Wonder would give great speeches without relying on a Teleprompter.
#6 - It doesn't matter that Stevie Wonder is black. He'd be cool if he were green and had Martian feelers on his forehead. Even you are more cool than Obama.
#7 - Stevie Wonder knows what it's like to be in business. He knows what it costs to hire people. He knows what it's like to have a job and earn a living.
#8 - Stevie Wonder could get Martha and the Vandellas to get the wackos in London to dance in the streets, not riot.
#9 - Stevie Wonder could pay off the national debt by airing White House dinners and the entertainment afterward on pay-per-view television.
#10 - Stevie Wonder knows what it's like to overcome a handicap without blaming it on George W. Bush.
#11 - Stevie Wonder would appreciate my writing and care that I am out of work. He would hire me to write his speeches.
#12 - Stevie Wonder would give us a cool holiday for August: Take a Honky to the Hood Day. White folks could learn that actual human beings live there and that they're just as afraid of white people as the white people are of blacks. White people could try to teach blacks to drink green tea and eat turkey burgers. Blacks could try to teach whites to eat fried chicken and ribs and watermelon without getting it all over themselves.
#13 - Stevie Wonder would not let his mother-in-law live in the White House.
#14 - Stevie Wonder would not be afraid to let Hillary Clinton speak in public.
#15 - Stevie Wonder would be afraid to let Joe Biden speak in public.
#16 - Stevie Wonder would serve White House dinner guests fine bottled wine in individually wrapped small paper bags just to watch the expressions on their faces.
#17 - Stevie Wonder would put cool rims on the presidential limo.
#18 - Stevie Wonder would never abandon Israel, because he knows what it's like to be hated just because you are in the minority.
#19 - Stevie Wonder would make public transportation for the poor a higher priority than flying 200 people to Honolulu for his vacation.
#20 - Stevie Wonder would not be afraid of punks, like the creep who rules Iran, and he would not allow America to be bullied.
#21 - Everybody already loves and trusts Stevie Wonder. People PAY to see him. He doesn't have to read the polls to know what Americans want and need. If he ran America like a good concert, we'd all be happy, working and we'd be better dancers.
***
How many reasons could you add? Worthy suggestions will be posted below.
May God bless President Obama. And Stevie Wonder.
I wish Obama well. I only wish I could bid him "Farewell!"
:~)
Sunday, July 24, 2011
From the Back Row
Hi.
Hope you are well.
Went to church this morning, as usual.
Thought I'd share what I learned from the usual and unusual folks there.
***
The Back Row
That's where I sit. Have for years. Probably always will.
Few people can see me when I laugh at inappropriate times, yawn, sweat or nod off; except the preacher -- and he loves me, so it's OK.
I brag about being the "minister to the back row." Nobody can last long on my row without me trying to say hello. At least once. Just a friendly hello. More, if they want to talk.
I tell them about the nice people all around us, and how the preacher is used by God to speak to me week after week, year after year. If you get to know me better, I'll tell you that I love my church because it has no single's group (I go to church to meet with God), no jumbo-tron video monitors, no smoke machines, and no "7-11" music (seven words sung 11 times).
My pastor isn't ever going to be in the news, good or bad. Unlike former pastors, he's not prettier than any of my wives; more polished than a newbie's Harley; smoother than a car salesman; or, as unholy as men and women who seem to sell access to God's blessings based upon how much money you give to them -- through the church, of course.
I am the token hippie. The black sheep embraced my most and tolerated by all. That's nice. I love the kids there, the old people (those my age) and most everyone else. I look forward to being with them, as we spend time with God.
***
The Lady with Skronked Hair
Don't get me wrong. I don't judge people based on their hairstyles. (Usually.)
This lady is toned-down pretty. An unpainted lady. Married. 3.2 kids. Handsome, suited hubby -- who seems a tad uptight.
TLSH was a few rows ahead of me today. Teal top. Un-form-fitting skirt. My guess is she was trying to conceal a dandy figure from the men like me. (Whoever *we* are.) She simply was not accentuating her form, that's all.
Her two boys sat next to her ... in teal-ish, matching tops. They were normal, fidgety kids. Well-mannered, well-dressed, well-everything'd.
TLSH wore no jewelry. Nails weren't all fancied up. The front of her hairdo looked fine. She spent less time on the sides. Evidently, she had no time to invest in the back of her hair because it was kinda limp, albeit with some evidence that it had been pampered a time or two in the past.
Not that she neglected her looks, mind you. Just that her highest priority had nothing to do with impressing those who scrutinized her. (Not that anyone would do THAT, right?)
Seems to me, she had higher priorities than pleasing anybody who sat behind her in church today. Seems to me, she probably rose first this morning. Made breakfast for her family. Drilled her boys out of bed, through the bathroom, into their clothes, to the breakfast table and out the door to church ... on time.
Seems to me she had the perfect balance between letting kids be kids in church, paying attention to the sermon and songs, minding her boys so that they didn't bother the more fussy worshippers ... while she put her arm around her sons ... hugged them ... touched them ... loved them ... cared for them. Without fanfare. Or a fancy hairdo. Or perfect nails. Or lots of bangle-y bracelets. Or showy clothes. Or extra time spent on herself, instead of others.
I honestly believe God informed me that He is pleased with her.
Very.
If I were as weird as some people think, I would tell her that.
But I won't.
Probably.
***
Pat & Cindy
Newcomers. He's the quiet scientist. She's the effervescent, attractive-in-lots-of-ways type you'd pick to head a committee or represent your company.
Saw them again today on my back row.
Cindy greeted me and repeated their names, so I wouldn't be embarrassed because I forgot. Again.
Retired. Fancy address. Nice People.
Asked them what their plans were for retirement. Travel?
Asked what their goals were ... what their plans were ... yadda, yadda, yadda.
They were sweet.
When I finished giving them my quiz, Cindy said their main focus was ...
[more in a minute]
***
My Friend in the Hallway
Saw JC. (No, not HIM! Those are his initials! Sheeeeeeeesh.)
He is always kind to me. Gets close. Leans toward me. Scrunches his shoulders forward. Stretches his head toward me ... like he's going to look over a wall or something.
His eyes get big when we talk ... mostly of my trauma de jours ("daily troubles" for those who cannot decipher my version of French).
JC keeps telling me that he doesn't know how he would handle the trials I endure. (Lost my job about a month ago. My daughter told me -- again -- last week that she would not let me have time with my granddaughter before school starts -- even though she hasn't been to my house since Christmas.)
[No, I am not going to list all my woes here. You have your own.]
JC has a great wife. 5.75 perfect kids. Great, but HARD job. He's respected, healthy, fun and close to God. He is well.
Just as he would be if his life fell apart.
He just doesn't know it.
Hope he never has to find out.
Told JC I'm helping an author develop a book about having hope in the midst of utter chaos and calamity -- specifically, in Haiti.
That's where people have real troubles.
That's where the people are that *I* do not want to trade places with.
***
Trading Places
Ask anyone in any war-ravaged village.
Anyone in any Third-World hovel.
Anyone in a prison or hospital.
Zillions of Chinese or Indian drones; villagers in Africa or South America.
Ask them if they'd like to change places with a guy in America.
A guy with a beautiful home that he has all to himself.
Plenty of food and clean water and 2.5 toilets.
Money in the bank. Healthy. Joyful.
Free to worship, work, travel and pursue happiness.
Ask any 40-something in a bad marriage.
Those burdened with impossible-to-pay school loans.
Or medical bills.
Ask someone with no health insurance, car, food, shelter or clothes.
Ask if they'd trade places with me ... in a heartbeat.
**
The people who fear that they'll end up like me, whether through:
the wrath of God or former wives
self-destructive habits
misfortune
poor decisions
getting caught doing something illegal or immoral
or whatever
don't understand how good a life I have.
It's just not perfect, that's all.
I lack their greatest blessings, but I have no lack of great blessings.
The good news is: I am aware of how blessed I am.
And I am thankful.
***
Pat & Cindy, Revisited
Cindy -- a woman who appears to be a "Don't you worry, honey. I've got your back. I'll fight for you and we're gonna win. Together!!" -- kind of wife,
responded to my question about what they're gonna do now that she and Pat are retired.
"Pat has cancer. We're gonna deal with that."
No hint of *anything* related to "poor him/me/us."
No reference to "why" this bad thing happened to good people.
No war paint or fist shaking.
Just the kind of thoughts you hear in the South sometimes.
"I don't wanna fight you. But I sure-as-heaven will, if I have to. And I'll win."
I prayed for Pat. Right there in our back row.
Told God later that I felt He had given Pat a great wife. Asked God to heal Pat and to use him for His glory for years to come.
Thanked God for my health. My problems. My trials.
Because God knows ... I don't think I could handle troubles like the ones that Pat and Cindy face.
**
Yup.
It's easier to write blogs than it is to trust God and live in reliance on the truth that He will never leave us nor forsake us.
Even in the valleys of:
unemployment
divorce
broken relationships
loneliness
bills
medical issues
the death of loved ones
wants/needs for the basics that we Americans feel we deserve
whatever problems you have
whatever problems your family has
whatever problems your neighbors have
broken dreams/promises/hopes
even ... cancer.
It's easy to forget that this life to which we cling
is merely the opening act for eternity.
Eternity with God ...
or without God.
We will know that God is trustworthy for His promises of forever
when we learn that He is trustworthy to keep His promises to meet our needs today.
No matter what happens.
Have
No
Fear
God cares for His own.
Even better than all the world's wonderful Cindys.
Combined.
Hope you are well.
Went to church this morning, as usual.
Thought I'd share what I learned from the usual and unusual folks there.
***
The Back Row
That's where I sit. Have for years. Probably always will.
Few people can see me when I laugh at inappropriate times, yawn, sweat or nod off; except the preacher -- and he loves me, so it's OK.
I brag about being the "minister to the back row." Nobody can last long on my row without me trying to say hello. At least once. Just a friendly hello. More, if they want to talk.
I tell them about the nice people all around us, and how the preacher is used by God to speak to me week after week, year after year. If you get to know me better, I'll tell you that I love my church because it has no single's group (I go to church to meet with God), no jumbo-tron video monitors, no smoke machines, and no "7-11" music (seven words sung 11 times).
My pastor isn't ever going to be in the news, good or bad. Unlike former pastors, he's not prettier than any of my wives; more polished than a newbie's Harley; smoother than a car salesman; or, as unholy as men and women who seem to sell access to God's blessings based upon how much money you give to them -- through the church, of course.
I am the token hippie. The black sheep embraced my most and tolerated by all. That's nice. I love the kids there, the old people (those my age) and most everyone else. I look forward to being with them, as we spend time with God.
***
The Lady with Skronked Hair
Don't get me wrong. I don't judge people based on their hairstyles. (Usually.)
This lady is toned-down pretty. An unpainted lady. Married. 3.2 kids. Handsome, suited hubby -- who seems a tad uptight.
TLSH was a few rows ahead of me today. Teal top. Un-form-fitting skirt. My guess is she was trying to conceal a dandy figure from the men like me. (Whoever *we* are.) She simply was not accentuating her form, that's all.
Her two boys sat next to her ... in teal-ish, matching tops. They were normal, fidgety kids. Well-mannered, well-dressed, well-everything'd.
TLSH wore no jewelry. Nails weren't all fancied up. The front of her hairdo looked fine. She spent less time on the sides. Evidently, she had no time to invest in the back of her hair because it was kinda limp, albeit with some evidence that it had been pampered a time or two in the past.
Not that she neglected her looks, mind you. Just that her highest priority had nothing to do with impressing those who scrutinized her. (Not that anyone would do THAT, right?)
Seems to me, she had higher priorities than pleasing anybody who sat behind her in church today. Seems to me, she probably rose first this morning. Made breakfast for her family. Drilled her boys out of bed, through the bathroom, into their clothes, to the breakfast table and out the door to church ... on time.
Seems to me she had the perfect balance between letting kids be kids in church, paying attention to the sermon and songs, minding her boys so that they didn't bother the more fussy worshippers ... while she put her arm around her sons ... hugged them ... touched them ... loved them ... cared for them. Without fanfare. Or a fancy hairdo. Or perfect nails. Or lots of bangle-y bracelets. Or showy clothes. Or extra time spent on herself, instead of others.
I honestly believe God informed me that He is pleased with her.
Very.
If I were as weird as some people think, I would tell her that.
But I won't.
Probably.
***
Pat & Cindy
Newcomers. He's the quiet scientist. She's the effervescent, attractive-in-lots-of-ways type you'd pick to head a committee or represent your company.
Saw them again today on my back row.
Cindy greeted me and repeated their names, so I wouldn't be embarrassed because I forgot. Again.
Retired. Fancy address. Nice People.
Asked them what their plans were for retirement. Travel?
Asked what their goals were ... what their plans were ... yadda, yadda, yadda.
They were sweet.
When I finished giving them my quiz, Cindy said their main focus was ...
[more in a minute]
***
My Friend in the Hallway
Saw JC. (No, not HIM! Those are his initials! Sheeeeeeeesh.)
He is always kind to me. Gets close. Leans toward me. Scrunches his shoulders forward. Stretches his head toward me ... like he's going to look over a wall or something.
His eyes get big when we talk ... mostly of my trauma de jours ("daily troubles" for those who cannot decipher my version of French).
JC keeps telling me that he doesn't know how he would handle the trials I endure. (Lost my job about a month ago. My daughter told me -- again -- last week that she would not let me have time with my granddaughter before school starts -- even though she hasn't been to my house since Christmas.)
[No, I am not going to list all my woes here. You have your own.]
JC has a great wife. 5.75 perfect kids. Great, but HARD job. He's respected, healthy, fun and close to God. He is well.
Just as he would be if his life fell apart.
He just doesn't know it.
Hope he never has to find out.
Told JC I'm helping an author develop a book about having hope in the midst of utter chaos and calamity -- specifically, in Haiti.
That's where people have real troubles.
That's where the people are that *I* do not want to trade places with.
***
Trading Places
Ask anyone in any war-ravaged village.
Anyone in any Third-World hovel.
Anyone in a prison or hospital.
Zillions of Chinese or Indian drones; villagers in Africa or South America.
Ask them if they'd like to change places with a guy in America.
A guy with a beautiful home that he has all to himself.
Plenty of food and clean water and 2.5 toilets.
Money in the bank. Healthy. Joyful.
Free to worship, work, travel and pursue happiness.
Ask any 40-something in a bad marriage.
Those burdened with impossible-to-pay school loans.
Or medical bills.
Ask someone with no health insurance, car, food, shelter or clothes.
Ask if they'd trade places with me ... in a heartbeat.
**
The people who fear that they'll end up like me, whether through:
the wrath of God or former wives
self-destructive habits
misfortune
poor decisions
getting caught doing something illegal or immoral
or whatever
don't understand how good a life I have.
It's just not perfect, that's all.
I lack their greatest blessings, but I have no lack of great blessings.
The good news is: I am aware of how blessed I am.
And I am thankful.
***
Pat & Cindy, Revisited
Cindy -- a woman who appears to be a "Don't you worry, honey. I've got your back. I'll fight for you and we're gonna win. Together!!" -- kind of wife,
responded to my question about what they're gonna do now that she and Pat are retired.
"Pat has cancer. We're gonna deal with that."
No hint of *anything* related to "poor him/me/us."
No reference to "why" this bad thing happened to good people.
No war paint or fist shaking.
Just the kind of thoughts you hear in the South sometimes.
"I don't wanna fight you. But I sure-as-heaven will, if I have to. And I'll win."
I prayed for Pat. Right there in our back row.
Told God later that I felt He had given Pat a great wife. Asked God to heal Pat and to use him for His glory for years to come.
Thanked God for my health. My problems. My trials.
Because God knows ... I don't think I could handle troubles like the ones that Pat and Cindy face.
**
Yup.
It's easier to write blogs than it is to trust God and live in reliance on the truth that He will never leave us nor forsake us.
Even in the valleys of:
unemployment
divorce
broken relationships
loneliness
bills
medical issues
the death of loved ones
wants/needs for the basics that we Americans feel we deserve
whatever problems you have
whatever problems your family has
whatever problems your neighbors have
broken dreams/promises/hopes
even ... cancer.
It's easy to forget that this life to which we cling
is merely the opening act for eternity.
Eternity with God ...
or without God.
We will know that God is trustworthy for His promises of forever
when we learn that He is trustworthy to keep His promises to meet our needs today.
No matter what happens.
Have
No
Fear
God cares for His own.
Even better than all the world's wonderful Cindys.
Combined.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Job Interviews with Bible Characters
Hi.
First, some background on this topic.
I am looking for work. Updating my resume, sending out letters and e-mails; pimping and primping myself with much pluck, if not aplomb.
As I envision interviews, my many faults come to mind and I wonder how said interviews might transpire.
My mind, inevitably, wanders. I imagine how George Washington or Abraham Lincoln or Bob Dylan would do in a modern interview. And I wonder how a few Bible characters would do.
**
I intend for my remarks to make a point (whatever it might be) and I shall attempt to make said point/s using humor, as I perceive it.
Humor is a funny thing. A man I knew repeated a joke so often it became funny, overused, boring and then funny again.
He wasn't being any more cruel than usual when he offered up one of the world's worst pick-up lines: "You don't sweat much, for a fat girl."
I cannot tell you how many times I laughed/didn't laugh at that line. Many, over the years. But it didn't strike me funny when he would say it around our secretary who was ... less than lithe ... like me.
I don't say this to diss anyone, but to admit that what I am going to write [not that I have much of a clue at this moment what that will be] might be offensive to a reader or a hundred. I don't know.
All I can say is I intend no insult or offense. And I say that knowing full-well that my very existence causes insult and/or offense to both strangers and family members alike.
Ergo, what have I to lose?
[insert smiley face of your choice here]
***
Joseph
So, you say your name is "Joseph"?
OK. And ... let's see ... you're applying for the position of ...
yes, here it is.
Ruler of Egypt.
Uh, I'm looking at your resume here, and I don't see much in the way of experience running large portions of civilization, Joseph.
Now, I don't want to just brush you off ... heaven knows we could do a lot worse than SOME people who run nations ... but ... well, a couple of things worry me.
Like this part ... where it says your family threw you in a pit? Does that mean you don't get along well with others?
I mean, let's be honest. You must have done *something* to deserve that, wouldn't you agree?
And our background check said something about your *nice* brother who rescued you from that pit ... and, wait while I find it ...
Yes. He took you out of the pit and SOLD you into slavery?
And that's your closest brother? Wasn't he afraid of facing your mother?
Oh, I see. You didn't have the same mother?
But what about the other brothers? Uh, huh. Oh, I see. Yes ...
Wait! Your father had HOW MANY wives?
[scribble, scribble]
OK. Let's get back to your resume.
I don't see a recommendation from your last employer ... a Mr. Potipher, I believe?
Excuse me? He sent you to prison? Really? PRISON?
[scribble, scribble]
Now, you don't have to tell me ... but ...
What? Did you say for NOT having sex with his wife?
Joseph. Really. I mean ... do you expect me to believe ...
Oh, sure!!! You had to refuse a beautiful woman's sexual advances?
Uh, huh. I see. The wife of a wealthy, powerful man wanted ... you?
Seriously?
[scribble, scribble]
OK. Let's try to move on, shall we?
So, you were in prison for how long?
Wow. That's a long time.
And you ... pardon me? God blessed you? In prison?
Well, let's just hope he doesn't bless ME like that! hahahaha
humphhh ... sorry ...
Now, what did you do before your brothers threw you in that pit?
Pardon me, but ... you didn't say you were "a shepherd" did you?
Mister ... I mean, Joseph. Really!
I'm not sure who put you up to this ridiculous stunt! But if you think *anyone* would make you the ruler of a small caravan ... let alone the ruler of Egypt!!!
[scribble, scribble]
SECURITY!!!
***
Jesus O. Nazareth
Yes, Mister Nazareth, come in! Come in! I've been waiting to meet you!
I understand you're looking for work in medicine, is that right, Mister Nazareth?
Sorry? Just "Jesus" -- is that what you said?
Oh, now I understand. Jesus OF Nazareth, not "Jesus O. Nazareth."
hahaha
My mistake! Please forgive me!
What's that? Did you say "Later"?
Now then. Where were we? Oh, yes. I've looked over your credentials and I just have ... well, a few questions. That's all.
For example, there doesn't seem to be much information about you from ... well, let's see ... I guess from when you were 12 ... to ... just about the last year or so!
hahahaha
What have you been doing, Mister Naz ... I mean, Jesus ... hahaha
Any schooling?
Excellent! How were your grades?
So, you learned a lot from your father, but you don't exactly have a degree?
Is that it? Sort of home schooled? That's becoming very popular, you know.
Did you pass your courses?
What's that??? You never failed?
That's what we're looking for, sir! Very well done!
[scribble, scribble]
Now, what about work experience? Tell me what you've been up to recently!
You, what? Did you say "gave sight to the blind"?
And you raised WHAT from the dead?
Seriously, Jesus! This isn't funny at all.
If you're not looking for work, just tell me ... but, I must say ... this is a most unusual interview!
You say ... you have witnesses?
Of COURSE you do!!! Of course you do.
[scribble, scribble]
Let me finish the interview first. Then, we'll talk about your friends.
OK. A few medical questions we have to get out of the way.
Have you been hospitalized in the past six months ...
and are you on any medication?
Do you hear voices? Any delusions of grandeur? That sort of thing?
You do?
[scribble, scribble]
You say you are ... God? Did I hear that right?
[scribble, scribble]
And you've come to seek and save the lost? Before you return ... *where*?
[scribble, scribble]
Jesus ... let me be honest with you. I just don't have the right position for you right now.
Maybe if you go back to school.
Get a job or two under your belt.
And, maybe -- no offense -- get a new tunic or two ... and some sandals that aren't so tattered ... MAYBE I might be able to place you somewhere where you could work your way up the ladder.
With a little hard work, you might make something of yourself.
Someday.
But I can't make any promises, you understand.
That sort of thing isn't up to me.
But I must tell you ... you really should speak to someone about these ideas you have.
I mean, you seem nice.
But, Savior of mankind?
Really?
Shouldn't we just leave that sort of thing to the president?
***
Judas
Please sit down, Mister Judas. Yes, that's fine: "Judas."
I must say you have a most excellent resume!
You're employed ... and ... let's see ... yes, you are an experienced accountant.
Well respected, too, it appears. Yes, well respected, indeed.
I don't personally know the men who have recommended you, but I must say I am impressed by their references. Leaders in the military, politics and church ... who speak so well of you!
Well done, sir. Well done!
I understand that you are among the closest advisors to a ... let's see ... his name doesn't appear here. No matter!
You strike me as the dependable sort!
You've earned the respect of the most respectable men in our region!
You've earned the trust of so many by your faithful handling of your organization's funds.
You dress well and, I must say, this -- shall I say "present?" -- you've given me proves how generous you are. Thank you, so much. You shouldn't have.
Now, then.
I see changes coming. Big changes!
And you're the kind of man who can make things happen!
A powerful man ... with powerful friends!
A man of vision!
The kind of man that any government or business would want on its team!
Tell you what?!!
Give me some time to mention you to a couple of people.
You know ... the "right" people.
Then, let me get back to you in a fortnight.
Like you, I have connections.
Quite a network, if I do say so myself.
I know people who could use a man like you ... to change the world!
Yes, Judas, change the world! Forever!
First, some background on this topic.
I am looking for work. Updating my resume, sending out letters and e-mails; pimping and primping myself with much pluck, if not aplomb.
As I envision interviews, my many faults come to mind and I wonder how said interviews might transpire.
My mind, inevitably, wanders. I imagine how George Washington or Abraham Lincoln or Bob Dylan would do in a modern interview. And I wonder how a few Bible characters would do.
**
I intend for my remarks to make a point (whatever it might be) and I shall attempt to make said point/s using humor, as I perceive it.
Humor is a funny thing. A man I knew repeated a joke so often it became funny, overused, boring and then funny again.
He wasn't being any more cruel than usual when he offered up one of the world's worst pick-up lines: "You don't sweat much, for a fat girl."
I cannot tell you how many times I laughed/didn't laugh at that line. Many, over the years. But it didn't strike me funny when he would say it around our secretary who was ... less than lithe ... like me.
I don't say this to diss anyone, but to admit that what I am going to write [not that I have much of a clue at this moment what that will be] might be offensive to a reader or a hundred. I don't know.
All I can say is I intend no insult or offense. And I say that knowing full-well that my very existence causes insult and/or offense to both strangers and family members alike.
Ergo, what have I to lose?
[insert smiley face of your choice here]
***
Joseph
So, you say your name is "Joseph"?
OK. And ... let's see ... you're applying for the position of ...
yes, here it is.
Ruler of Egypt.
Uh, I'm looking at your resume here, and I don't see much in the way of experience running large portions of civilization, Joseph.
Now, I don't want to just brush you off ... heaven knows we could do a lot worse than SOME people who run nations ... but ... well, a couple of things worry me.
Like this part ... where it says your family threw you in a pit? Does that mean you don't get along well with others?
I mean, let's be honest. You must have done *something* to deserve that, wouldn't you agree?
And our background check said something about your *nice* brother who rescued you from that pit ... and, wait while I find it ...
Yes. He took you out of the pit and SOLD you into slavery?
And that's your closest brother? Wasn't he afraid of facing your mother?
Oh, I see. You didn't have the same mother?
But what about the other brothers? Uh, huh. Oh, I see. Yes ...
Wait! Your father had HOW MANY wives?
[scribble, scribble]
OK. Let's get back to your resume.
I don't see a recommendation from your last employer ... a Mr. Potipher, I believe?
Excuse me? He sent you to prison? Really? PRISON?
[scribble, scribble]
Now, you don't have to tell me ... but ...
What? Did you say for NOT having sex with his wife?
Joseph. Really. I mean ... do you expect me to believe ...
Oh, sure!!! You had to refuse a beautiful woman's sexual advances?
Uh, huh. I see. The wife of a wealthy, powerful man wanted ... you?
Seriously?
[scribble, scribble]
OK. Let's try to move on, shall we?
So, you were in prison for how long?
Wow. That's a long time.
And you ... pardon me? God blessed you? In prison?
Well, let's just hope he doesn't bless ME like that! hahahaha
humphhh ... sorry ...
Now, what did you do before your brothers threw you in that pit?
Pardon me, but ... you didn't say you were "a shepherd" did you?
Mister ... I mean, Joseph. Really!
I'm not sure who put you up to this ridiculous stunt! But if you think *anyone* would make you the ruler of a small caravan ... let alone the ruler of Egypt!!!
[scribble, scribble]
SECURITY!!!
***
Jesus O. Nazareth
Yes, Mister Nazareth, come in! Come in! I've been waiting to meet you!
I understand you're looking for work in medicine, is that right, Mister Nazareth?
Sorry? Just "Jesus" -- is that what you said?
Oh, now I understand. Jesus OF Nazareth, not "Jesus O. Nazareth."
hahaha
My mistake! Please forgive me!
What's that? Did you say "Later"?
Now then. Where were we? Oh, yes. I've looked over your credentials and I just have ... well, a few questions. That's all.
For example, there doesn't seem to be much information about you from ... well, let's see ... I guess from when you were 12 ... to ... just about the last year or so!
hahahaha
What have you been doing, Mister Naz ... I mean, Jesus ... hahaha
Any schooling?
Excellent! How were your grades?
So, you learned a lot from your father, but you don't exactly have a degree?
Is that it? Sort of home schooled? That's becoming very popular, you know.
Did you pass your courses?
What's that??? You never failed?
That's what we're looking for, sir! Very well done!
[scribble, scribble]
Now, what about work experience? Tell me what you've been up to recently!
You, what? Did you say "gave sight to the blind"?
And you raised WHAT from the dead?
Seriously, Jesus! This isn't funny at all.
If you're not looking for work, just tell me ... but, I must say ... this is a most unusual interview!
You say ... you have witnesses?
Of COURSE you do!!! Of course you do.
[scribble, scribble]
Let me finish the interview first. Then, we'll talk about your friends.
OK. A few medical questions we have to get out of the way.
Have you been hospitalized in the past six months ...
and are you on any medication?
Do you hear voices? Any delusions of grandeur? That sort of thing?
You do?
[scribble, scribble]
You say you are ... God? Did I hear that right?
[scribble, scribble]
And you've come to seek and save the lost? Before you return ... *where*?
[scribble, scribble]
Jesus ... let me be honest with you. I just don't have the right position for you right now.
Maybe if you go back to school.
Get a job or two under your belt.
And, maybe -- no offense -- get a new tunic or two ... and some sandals that aren't so tattered ... MAYBE I might be able to place you somewhere where you could work your way up the ladder.
With a little hard work, you might make something of yourself.
Someday.
But I can't make any promises, you understand.
That sort of thing isn't up to me.
But I must tell you ... you really should speak to someone about these ideas you have.
I mean, you seem nice.
But, Savior of mankind?
Really?
Shouldn't we just leave that sort of thing to the president?
***
Judas
Please sit down, Mister Judas. Yes, that's fine: "Judas."
I must say you have a most excellent resume!
You're employed ... and ... let's see ... yes, you are an experienced accountant.
Well respected, too, it appears. Yes, well respected, indeed.
I don't personally know the men who have recommended you, but I must say I am impressed by their references. Leaders in the military, politics and church ... who speak so well of you!
Well done, sir. Well done!
I understand that you are among the closest advisors to a ... let's see ... his name doesn't appear here. No matter!
You strike me as the dependable sort!
You've earned the respect of the most respectable men in our region!
You've earned the trust of so many by your faithful handling of your organization's funds.
You dress well and, I must say, this -- shall I say "present?" -- you've given me proves how generous you are. Thank you, so much. You shouldn't have.
Now, then.
I see changes coming. Big changes!
And you're the kind of man who can make things happen!
A powerful man ... with powerful friends!
A man of vision!
The kind of man that any government or business would want on its team!
Tell you what?!!
Give me some time to mention you to a couple of people.
You know ... the "right" people.
Then, let me get back to you in a fortnight.
Like you, I have connections.
Quite a network, if I do say so myself.
I know people who could use a man like you ... to change the world!
Yes, Judas, change the world! Forever!
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