Wednesday, May 16, 2012

The First Step



Since the first step towards success in so many problems is in admitting there is a problem, here goes. True confession, I am a shopaholic. I don't seek out designer labels or lavish home decor just the average and ordinary; groceries, clothing and stuff.  I guess if it weren't for the plastic I use it would be okay but I've dug a really big money pit and although  reasons excuses abound, the reality of it is I just like to shop.

I had a conversation with a friend recently where I disclosed the ugly truth of my habit. The talk made me ponder the "whys" of my spending.  I have shopped to fill voids and to some degree for the attention I garner from store clerks as they ring up the purchases. Really sad, huh? Worse still, I have tried to keep said ugly truth from my husband.  It's embarrassing at least and will affect family finances for years at worst.

He found out recently (because I told him) and although very angry initially at the amount of debt and even more so at my lack of self- control, he showed mercy and forgave me.  I must admit the guilt of my debt burden was overwhelming me.  I went to bed thinking about it and woke up thinking about it, not the amount so much as the deception involved.  Feelings of guilt made me sick.  I am thankful that the truth is now out and I have a plan to pay off the debt, one balance at a time.  Prayers for strength of resolve and self-discipline would be appreciated greatly. Also, if you feel inclined to send a few dollars my way to help with the paying down feel free to do so (just kidding, kind of ☺).

So, what have I learned?  Credit can be a dangerous thing. Guilt has great weight. My husband is a man who practices forgiveness and mercy.  I have a long road to zero balances. God still loves me and so does Sparta.

Rotel Salsa

Here's a link to the recipe for one of my family's favorite snacks.  Tortillas and salsa, who doesn't love them?




http://mentoringmoments.org/ro-tel-salsa/

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Here's an "I" Word For You

Did you know there is campaign currently underway to stop the use of the word "illegal" in conjunction with the words alien and immigrant?  You can watch the YouTube video, Stop the "I" Word by clicking the link.
  
 If a person enters the country without going through proper channels, he is here illegally. Calling something what it is, is not hate. It's not racist, it's not a prejudice, it's not intolerant, it's fact.  Good grief.  If any "i" word should be stopped it's "intolerant".  

We've been conditioned to believe tolerance is always a good thing. You don't agree with someones lifestyle, with some choices that are being made, well bully for you. You are intolerant. Guess what? I am tired of being tolerant. I am tired of being politically correct. I am tired of kowtowing to those who would have us believe that to lack acceptance of immoral choices is narrow-minded. The "progressive minded" folks who berate us for believing in Jesus as THE ONLY way to God think we are bigoted. I am tired of being made to feel racist because I disagree with the policies of the first black president. I am tired of being thought of as uncharitable because I think Welfare recipients should pass a drug test or because I would prefer to choose my own worthy causes. Does this sound like an angry rant?  It is.  


 Sometimes intolerance is a good thing. I can walk with a thorn in my foot and tolerate the pain, if I take it out do I become intolerant or wise for realizing that it was possible to change the situation? Tolerating stupidity does no one any good. Tolerating overspending leads to daunting debt (5 trillion anyone). Tolerating vulgarity, profanity and sexualization at every turn of the page or flip of the channel has lessened civility and created a slew of problems. Allowing an opportunity to share the gospel pass due to a fear of seeming "intolerant"  might condemn someone to hell.   I'd much rather seem intolerant than face judgment day and find out I could have made a difference.

Seek the truth and speak the truth(lovingly, of course), whether it seems tolerant or not.


14 Then we will no longer be little children, tossed and carried about by all kinds of teachings that change like the wind. We will no longer be influenced by people who use cunning and clever strategies to lead us astray. 15 Instead, as we lovingly speak the truth, we will grow up completely in our relationship to Christ, who is the head. 16 He makes the whole body fit together and unites it through the support of every joint. As each and every part does its job, he makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love. (Ephesians 4:1)


Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Best Email Forward EVER


It's that time of year again and it always reminds me of my favorite joke. I remember getting it as an email forward at least 14 years ago, and I still relate to it. Gotta go get ready now, appointment today :)

The Washcloth

Early one morning, I received a call from the doctor’s office to tell me that I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 am. I had only just packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already around 8:45 am.
The trip to his office took about thirty-five minutes, so I didn’t have an time to spare. As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time I wasn’t going to be able to make the full effort. So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pajamas, wet the washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in that area to make sure I was at least presentable.
I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, grabbed some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment.
I was in the waiting room for only a few minutes when I was called in. Knowing the procedure, as I’m sure you do, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended that I was in Paris or some other place a million miles away.
I was a little surprised when the doctor said, “My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven’t we?” I didn’t respond but of course the answer was "yes", don't we all?
After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home.
The rest of the day was normal: some shopping, cleaning, cooking, etc. After school when my six year old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, “Mommy, where’s my washcloth?” I told her to get another one from the cupboard.
She replied, “No, I need the one that was here by the sink, it had all my glitter and sparkles saved inside it.”

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Brain Fog


Do you know how much water is in fog?  In one acre that has been blanketed in fog, there is less than a glass. Think about it, less than one glass of water obscures vision for an entire acre. Sometimes I get a type of brain fog.  It seems to happen when I take my focus off God and start worrying about stuff.  Now the stuff I worry about may have some validity but most of the time, not so much.  Worrying over kids grades, the dirty house (what if someone should come over?), will the cell phones cause cancer, medical test results (worry won't change them)and on and on the list goes. Worry on its own does nothing positive. The "what ifs" of life can be consuming but most of the time they don't really add up to a lot.

I'm not as much of a worrier as I once was but I come from a long line of worriers so I fight an uphill battle. That battle was recently made easier by a Godly man who enlightened me with the fog fact.  He spoke on the futility of worry. Statistics show that 80% of what we worry about never happens. Our worry can prevent us from taking chances, from speaking the truth, from being joyful. Worry steals your time and attention. Worry is not trusting God and His sovereignty. Trust God that whatever happens can be used to fulfill His plan, because He will not be thwarted. Romans 8:28 says "All things work together for the good of those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose".

The pastor impressed upon us that by worrying we are being disobedient to God.
It was one of his finest and final sermons, at 77 Pastor Ken Haag went home to be with the Lord just last month. He served as our interim pastor but made a permanent impression. I won't ever look at fog the same, either kind.


 Jesus said,"Can any of you add a single hour to your life by worrying?
 And why worry about clothes? Notice how the flowers grow in the field. They never work or spin yarn for clothes.But I say that not even Solomon in all his majesty was dressed like one of these flowers." Matthew 6:27-29



Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Post Racial America? Not Good News for the News

I am going to wade into unfamiliar waters here and talk about a tragedy that has captured the nation, the death of Trayvon Martin.  It's all my 19 year old wants to talk about.  We (my family) rushed to judgment and convicted George Zimmerman as a racist murderer before all the facts started coming to light.

 There's a reason our justice system is set up the way it is and there is reason the media should not report with bias or without all the facts.  Remember the rush to judgment in the Centennial Olympic Park bombing back in 1996 when Richard Jewel, a security guard, was tried and convicted by the out of control reporting of main stream media? Later, of course, Mr. Jewell was cleared, turns out he was doing his job well and had the police been able to do their job without the media's minute by minute commentary Mr. Jewell would have been cleared of suspicion without the ruining of his life.

Remember the bold claims that the Phoenix shooting last year were done by an out of control "right-winger".  How'd that turn out for the media? Wrong again weren't they? It was the irrational act of an irrational mentally unstable man, no political motivation, just crazy.

As more and more facts come out regarding the death of Trayvon, there is no doubt this was a real tragedy. You know, George Zimmerman was out patrolling his neighborhood and due to a rash of recent break-ins it seems he was over zealous in his pursuit of Trayvon Martin, the young man who stood 6'3" and was unfamiliar in the neighborhood. Mr. Zimmerman obviously made a bad decision in continuing to follow the young man and a terrible decision in leaving his vehicle.  Bad choices don't make this a matter of hate, they make it a matter of poor judgment. Trayvon made a few bad choices too, not responding to Mr. Zimmerman's question of why he was in the neighborhood was one, assaulting a man with a gun was another.  Tragic. Senseless. Terrible. Yes, all those and so much more. Hate crime? No, I don't believe it was. Recent information shows Zimmerman to be a man whose friendships were diverse and whose mentoring of two black children was unquestionably selfless.

 In Kansas City, Kansas two weeks ago two black teens poured gasoline on a 13 year old white boy while making remarks about his whiteness about his deservedness for this burning of his flesh as he stood on the porch of his own home while they lit him up with a Bic lighter. Hate crime.  Any of you heard that story reported? If not, ask yourself why not?  I believe it is because the story doesn't fit the media's need for stirring up dissension and a sense of injustice in the black community.

The Black Panthers $10,000 bounty for the head of George Zimmerman is a disgusting display and an outright illegal one at that. They demand an eye for an eye, justice for all. Where were they two weeks ago?  Where did they stand at the execution of Troy Davis, who in appeals that went all the way to the Supreme Court was found guilty of the murder of a white police officer in Savannah? Were they applauding the "eye for an eye" in his case or bemoaning the injustice of his capitol punishment?

You know,  I can only imagine the pain and sorrow felt by Trayvon's parents. The loss of  such young life and all it's potential is tragic. The chaos and circus like atmosphere now surrounding the death of their son has most certainly been feeding the justifiable anger they must feel. Are we helping or hindering their plight?  Stop vilifying Zimmerman, don't try to vilify Trayvon or hoodies. Let facts and reason prevail.
Surely when the police and courts are able to do their jobs, justice WILL BE served.

Can we hope for a country where race is never at issue again? Sure. Will we get it?  I don't think so, there will always be bigots, prejudice, rushes to judgment and the threat of injustice (perceived or real). And so long as ratings matter more than truth the national media will focus it's attention on those types of stories and we will continue to be swept along by the current they've created.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Sweet Sixteen

Allison has turned 16 and she, eager to taste the sweet freedom that comes from having a driver's license, was ready to get it as soon as she became eligible. Since her dear daddy (to whom this particular chore was assigned) has been out of town for three weeks it fell to me to get her to the test.  Just to set the record straight, I HATE the Department of Drivers Services.  I'd say it's not their fault but, well, it is (that's another story).  I had hoped that because I followed the department's advice and made an appointment for the road test it would be less unpleasant an experience. Didn't work out quite that way. Going through the doors was good for a laugh there was a scrolling "welcome!"sign.  I couldn't help but feel like fly being welcomed to a spider's web.  Another sign stating "we care about our customers" was attached to the wall above the scowling woman we were lucky enough to see after our hour long wait. Can you imagine if she didn't care?

The office was crazy crowded. There were seventeen counters but only five of them were manned and at least sixty people were waiting to be called. I took my Kindle, loaded with good reads, only to have the battery die 10 minutes after arrival. So, people watching became the best way to pass time. Upon scanning the crowd, Allison declared us to be "pretty normal looking". I'm not sure what passes for normal these days but she kept her seat beside me, so I guess I didn't embarrass her too much. The waiting area had hard plastic seats that were not quite solidly backed.  There was an opening about two inches high and twelve inches long located exactly where pants and tops should meet. FYI  people-low rise jeans are not your friend.  We saw more of several folks than they intended. What I saw in that room made me really wish I'd checked the Kindle battery's charge and helped me decide to keep my light jacket on despite the sweating.

Anyway, after being called for our turn at the counter we were sent outside to await a tester.  Another hour of waiting.  We watched person after person return from road testing and by the looks on faces it was obvious these testers were failing most of the young hopefuls.  Allison had a lot of time to get nervous, the dreaded parallel parking loomed large in her mind, even though she had written how-to instructions for it on her forearm. (I have no idea how she thought that was going to work out).  Finally, she was up.  I stepped out of the car and off they went.  While she was gone I saw quite a few tears, a couple of smiles and bore witness to one major screamfest ( Not a good day for Instructor Hernando).  The longer she was out the more nervous I became and just when I started to wonder if she'd wrecked, I heard the squeaky brakes of my ride approaching and saw Allison trying not to grin.

 We added a newly licensed driver to the Cagle bunch. Yep, Allison is on the roads so you'd better watch out.