tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29791114769843415072024-03-13T20:44:21.939-07:00About love and truthshanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.comBlogger147125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-15909985705511546942020-08-18T12:31:00.001-07:002021-06-01T20:03:30.607-07:00<p style="text-align: center;"> <b>GET UP MOODY!</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">How she got the name,
I’ll never know. She certainly didn’t earn it. “Moody” was remarkably even
keeled. It had to be a joke, like in the movies where “Big Mike” is small, and
“Tiny Joe” is actually a giant. Still, “Moody” was the name assigned my
grandmother, and she wore it proudly. Sometimes she would use it when speaking
to herself. One of her favorite phrases was, “Get up Moody!” She’d often say it
after she’d had a brief rest. It was her “get back to work” phrase. Ironically,
“Moody” was the hardest working person I knew. So, much like her nickname, I
didn’t understand her use of that phrase either. She was familiar with grueling
labor, and therefore well entitled to unbridled rest. But with that
one line command- “Get up Moody!” she’d reset her whole attitude. She'd plow
through her tasks as though she was punched in on the time clock of God
Himself. Indeed, she was. That is what I didn’t understand then. I understand
it now.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh79mYaeA47x6YycLn3o_Eqp3nHtIfeVHutg7hndqRcZJBUJtNpsDyjOA9ZjzsT4_FPVU1CdGFmI-8aLU-K9LOQkMap3sLz1tlyWn1xFH1TPVi-howEd8jiG1CRv2O-zrEA62lp0NENWsmE/s2048/20200818_121345.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh79mYaeA47x6YycLn3o_Eqp3nHtIfeVHutg7hndqRcZJBUJtNpsDyjOA9ZjzsT4_FPVU1CdGFmI-8aLU-K9LOQkMap3sLz1tlyWn1xFH1TPVi-howEd8jiG1CRv2O-zrEA62lp0NENWsmE/w158-h210/20200818_121345.jpg" width="158" /></a></div><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Time is among our most
valuable resources. If we are not deliberate with how we spend it, we will
waste it waiting to “feel like doing’’ something before taking action. It’s a
trap. How often do we feel like doing hard things? Rarely, if ever. Plus, life
gives us many reasons to sit down. Those lacking motivation, focus, or
discipline will stay down. I am sure there were days my grandmother wanted to.
Instead, after tending the fields, the livestock, and the land, she cared for children and grandchildren, fed neighbors, and assisted friends. She delivered
babies, and acted as a mortician too.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Moody" did
what her spirit believed was good and right, even if her abled body protested.
“Get up Moody” was an assault on the urge to remain at rest. It was my grandmother’s
way of letting her body know, "My feelings don’t run me, my will does. I'm
committed to what's best, not what's easy." She pushed beyond her body’s
desire, and led her flesh. Her “little phrase” was her spirit speaking to a
body that didn’t “feel like it.” A confrontation between desire and will. Moody
wasn’t super human, she simply refused to be controlled by anyone or anything,
even if that thing was a part of her. If rest wasn’t best, she didn’t take it.
If work was difficult, she didn’t run away from it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">In all these
negotiations she did not complain. She was calm. To lose control, or serve
begrudgingly would’ve negated the victories she scored over her body. It would
have given her flesh the final word. It would’ve had no impact on me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The lesson I learned was
huge. How we feel should not be the criteria for what we do. Something greater
must determine that. Good. Need. Love. Truth-something absolute. To be led by
feelings is to remain in perpetual infancy. No mastery. No maturity. That’s not
a life well lived. That’s instability. That’s bondage to the emotions chosen by
our body. Spiritual death.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Four decades later, this
grandchild, and witness of radical self-discipline, finds herself borrowing
from the wisdom and strength found in the order, “Get up Moody!” When I start
thinking, “I’m just going to lay down, binge watch a show, surf YouTube, or
stay down a while;” I hear those words:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“GET
UP!!!” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Get up is my
encouragement to you. Resist “I don’t feel like it.” You have the power to do
that. You don’t have to feel like it to do it. Do it because it is right, not
convenient. True fulfillment does not live in your flesh or feelings. Your best
intentions all exist in the spirit. They are manifested by the work of your hands,
the work of body. It’s largely what separates humans from animals. In our
spirit we can purpose to do good, and cause our bodies to follow. Life is
disastrous the other way around. If the body rules, we’ll be inconsistent, and
unfaithful. We’ll stay down. Defeated. The most effective use of the body is
its obedience to the spirit, and a mind alive to truth.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I don’t know your
mood, or your name, but as long as you’re alive, you have a chance. Things may
not be easy, but hope lives.<b><i> Good is possible.</i></b> Easy is just a road to certain
failure. Don’t chase it. Maybe you are tired, and you need a break. Rest, but
don’t stay down. The same grandmother who said, “Get up…” and “Hard work won’t
kill ya” also knew the importance of “sittin down” to rest and refresh. Work
made rest necessary, and meaningful. Cherished moments.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Moody died at 97 years
old. She was right. It wasn’t due to hard work. She had a full life,
and without the benefit of a formal education she left a mighty
legacy. She was a small woman, about 5’4 on tiptoes. But she was
honorable and faithful, with a character that gave her the presence of a
giant. She was a fierce ally, and a truth teller to others, but most
importantly to herself. Get up Moody! Was just one of many ways she did so. For
the record her real name was Sarah Elizabeth Knowles. She lived the life of
unbridled humility. She battled this world with uncommon kindness, and
exceptional grace. It is my great honor to be the granddaughter of a
warrior. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiXMcFKwjdjCFayB0MoD1fw0isM7rm-xQuvPAusAixw-iuUwUHNk-I5mZLKJz-GlZzO6iaRHZWx6TZfmEBr63mrO46-m-A6nCvUT9r5pkwGEf-1PlPXRhzPPEw3ZkdCtTi6lxF5T-u1RO1/s2048/20200818_121428.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiXMcFKwjdjCFayB0MoD1fw0isM7rm-xQuvPAusAixw-iuUwUHNk-I5mZLKJz-GlZzO6iaRHZWx6TZfmEBr63mrO46-m-A6nCvUT9r5pkwGEf-1PlPXRhzPPEw3ZkdCtTi6lxF5T-u1RO1/w250-h188/20200818_121428.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><br /></p>shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-18258852009141543652020-07-24T08:42:00.000-07:002020-07-24T08:42:26.134-07:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Bold Enough</b></div>
<br />
I suppose that after you written nearly a 15,000 word blog you are entitled to a month or two off. And so, I took a break. I didn't intend to. I intended to follow my post <a href="https://truthlivesblog.wordpress.com/2020/06/19/unrest/">Unrest</a> with one called "Black Enough." It would defend and detail all the reasons why I was qualified to speak so candidly on race. It would also serve to answer those who would seek to discredit me because I told the uncomfortable truth regarding the topic. I've decided against that at this time.<br />
<br />
I realize that the reason I am qualified to speak on race has less to do with what I've suffered related to skin color, but on what I have endured related to the condition of my heart. I'm "black enough" to speak on racial issues because I once walked in total darkness in all areas of life. I've experienced that humans are selfishly motivated. Unless divinely influenced, man will never do right by man, and I am no exception.<br />
<br />
It was the truth of God alone that changed me. It continues to this day. It is the reason I now seek to give the homeless new clothes, not just my old ones. It's the reason I give my family the choice cut of meat, and not save it for my plate. It's the reason I buy the thing that I damage at the store, and not have someone else eat the cost. It is the reason I return the item to the rack, or the cart to its place. This list can go on, and though these are seemingly little things, they all esteem others greater than they esteem self. It is a life altering shift. I know who I was before. I'm different now. There is some new law written on my heart. Its primary function seems to be to inspire me to love and to do good works.<br />
<br />
I'm aware that some will be turned off by the talk of Jesus. I truly never wanted to sound "too christiany." I'm not attempting to be pious, simply honest. I have struggled with just about every wrong thing I can think of. Even the "small things," whether it's lying, envy, gossiping, and on, none of those things promote the wellbeing or justice of another human. Only the love of God does that. I refuse to undermine the sacrifice and grace of Jesus by pretending that I could be enough. It's futile to even entertain the idea. Justice and peace belongs to the Lord. Those who follow Him, find it.<br />
<br />
And so as the unrest continues in the streets, and people urge me to fight against "social injustice," I choose to fight <em>for</em><strong> </strong>something more. Love. I redirect my heart and focus towards the only God who gives joy in the midst of chaos. I follow the one who healed the outcasts. Fought for women's rights before the world knew it was the right thing to do. He associated with the racially marginalized, befriended and assisted the poor, weak an lowly. He <strong><em>chose</em></strong> inequality, and gave His life so that <em><strong>all</strong> </em>may be free. His passion was not merely for "social justice," but spiritual justice. Spiritual justice is the true healer. It brings genuine power, and equality to all. His life forever taught us that man is more than his social assignment. Unless you address his heart, he will always descend into unjust behaviors and conditions. Social, and otherwise.<br />
<br />
I find my comfort in Christ, not in my culture or my color. The issue isn't whether I'm "black enough" to speak on the one topic assigned to me by the world, but whether in freedom, I'm bold enough to speak the truth of God on any topic, to any power in this world. My credentials are greater than skin tone, or earthly affiliations. Simply put; I'm sinful enough to know, and speak on the transforming power of God's love. May He give me the strength to never shut up about it.<br />
<br />
shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-84352675438879217322020-06-19T11:05:00.001-07:002021-06-01T19:51:39.017-07:00<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #2c3338; font-size: 16px; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px 0px 24px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"><b> RACE AND TRUTH.</b></span><br />
<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"><b></b><br />
George Floyd's death was quite possibly the tipping point of America’s pent up
rage. As I watch the unrest in the streets, I can’t help but acknowledge it has
moved into my being. I speak to quell the holy shout growing in my soul, </span><b style="color: #2c3338;">ENOUGH!!!</b></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: inherit; margin-bottom: .25in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0.25in; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #2c3338;">How uncomfortable are you willing to be for the sake of truth? Bold truth
spoken in love is the only real change agent, the only real freedom fighter.
Despite the chaos in the streets, love is still the greatest power known to
man. We cannot fight with anything less. We will never move forward on lies and
political correctness. Many white Americans are afraid to speak on race to the
point of cowardice, but many black Americans speak on the pain and anger of racial issues to the point of irrationality. I'm not afraid, but I am aware that this could
cost me something. I'll risk it.</span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: inherit; margin-bottom: .25in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0.25in; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #2c3338;">I would rather not have to says these things. I prefer you hear them from
leaders who voice hope, and who help us move toward healing. The leaders I've
seen, seem lost. Some of them are angry and hurt to the point of discrimination
and hatred themselves. They are stirring up and perpetuating the prejudice they claim they want to fix. Many are buying into lies and notions that leads
to more death and destruction. They are transfixed by pain, paralyzed or driven by
emotion. They speak of change from a place of fear. Fear never gives life. It
only destroys it.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Most alarming of all is
truth is being pushed out of the conversation purposely, or it is entirely
ignored. With every lie that is told, I grow more desperate to hear an honest
conversation, one which will lead to constructive change. I write this in an
attempt to begin one. It will please neither the white community, nor the black
community with whom I share pigment and racial experiences. I don't speak for
all black people. Nor will I pick a team. Truth is disrespected by both sides
of the issue. I will attempt to address each lie sincerely. This will be raw,
and maybe cringeworthy at times. I do this not to shock you, but to be honest.
My hope is that those who have ears to hear will hear, and that God will be
exalted, and pleased that I tried.</span></div>
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<strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">THE LIE OF RACE AND RACISM</span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"></span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Somewhere along the way we
accepted the lie of race, and by extension racism. Once we did, we began
fighting the wrong battle. This was the only logical outcome, because it is the nature of a lie to redirect. Our eyes,
hands, ears, conscience and spirit all testified that people by nature are of
the same race; human. Yet, we chose to focus on, and define each other by
variations in features. We made the lesser thing to define the greater thing. This sort of evaluation is consistent with man’s judgment. He regards what is seen outwardly, and
devalues the divine. Once we did this, we were doomed to fight a battle which cannot be won, because "racism" is not the core issue. Evil is.
Sometimes that evil is expressed as hatred for an entire group or class. Sadly,
in the hearts of those who make room, hatred/evil will never localize. It expands. Racism is in a nutshell the expansion of evil in a heart to affect more people. Its root is pride, but for the sake of this post, I’ll call it “racism” and
hatred and use those words interchangeably.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Some time ago I watched a
teacher name Jane Elliot conduct what she called the “Brown- eyed Blue-eyed
Experiment.” It was intended to show whites what prejudice is like by
segregating them for a short time, and treating them differently based on eye
color. The experiment taught many what it felt like to be discriminated
against. Some with the preferred eye color quickly bought in to their superior
roles, proving that should we eradicate discrimination based on skin color, it
would easily reemerge on the basis of something else. In this case it was eye
color, but it could be hair color, height, weight, finances, whatever. This
reveals that true “racism” is a heart issue. Wherever we managed to eliminate
this problem within our society, unless we correct the heart, which is the root
of it, discrimination will simply take another form. It’s like firing a thief
from your business, but electing him to your government. His character hasn’t
changed, only the schemes he uses, and the location from which he robs you.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Interestingly, Mrs. Elliot borrowed the
eye experiment from Hitler. Only for the Nazis, it wasn't an experiment. It was a
test, a measure used to qualify levels of whiteness among Jews. Millions were
killed based on it. The difference between life and death hinged on lighter
tints and shades in eye color among the <i>same</i> group of people. No logic needed.
Evil is resilient. It will find a reason to carry out its purpose. Ultimately,
only God can destroy it. Obedience to His wisdom is key.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Unfortunately, many in the
church have walked in disobedience to God regarding how we love others. As a
result, we suffer from some of the same issues in the church that confronts
non-believers. If Sunday morning services are any indication, society is ahead
of us where integration is concerned. This is not a reflection on the wisdom of
God, but rather a reflection on our neglect and rejection of it. So many
Christians want to join the fight against racism. It’s noble, but we have to
connect to the truth first; some of us are a part of the problem. We must ask
God to reveal sin, and do as He says, remove “the log” out of our eyes first.
Then we will be able to help others.</span></div>
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<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: inherit; margin-bottom: .25in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0.25in; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Now "help" should not imply
harmony. As we comfort those broken by hatred, the church cannot allow their emotions
and pain to lead us away from, and blind us to the real problem, evil. The
church must be careful that in our zeal to show compassion, we don’t sacrifice
the cure, the truth, the purpose and power of the cross. It is an opportunity
to confess God, and speak of His transforming power in us. We, as all men are
corrupt in nature. The evil we fight is in us all. Perhaps it’s a fulfillment
in the things we own, the way we look, the position we hold, who we know
etc. Truth is man's heart is fixated on having an edge. We all have this kind of pride. It is why Jesus came. When we single out racism as the demon of all
sins, deserving a special kind of venom, we deny the truth and allow the root
cause of it to live. That is, that all men want to be God in some way. He has
an internal desire to feel superior to someone. This is Eden 101. There, w</span><span style="color: #2c3338;">e looked at God Himself,
the creator and sustainer, in the middle of His property, and pretty much said,
“I think I’d rather be god over myself. I can do this better than you.” How
then are we expected to elevate another human being to our level, if we are trying
to elevate ourselves to the level of God? Truth is, man has no genuine interest in real
equality. It is at conflict with our desire to reign. It is therefore contrary
to our nature to look at another man and say, “I will make him equal to me.”</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">It's time to stop romanticizing
the lie that we can “fix racism” without God. He is the only good in humanity,
and only His way works. His death made man's restoration possible. It puts an
end to what separates man from God and from each other: Sin. Evil. God alone gives
us the love we need for each other. There is not a social program on the earth
that could do this. His plan is perfect. We are unable to improve upon it; Therefore,
God does not prosper a way that is not His. So, until we connect with holiness,
and view life in His light, we will continue to hate each other. We will do so
even in the name of religion, because it is not a system that values life, it
is a person. Those who follow God will love their neighbor regardless of color.
Those who do not love, do not know God.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Now discrimination unlike
"racism" isn’t entirely a negative thing. We do it in many situations. Sometimes we do it to keep ourselves safe. For example: I will not walk down the dark alley with the mysterious
van. I will not give my bank account information to the “prince of Ghana" who wants
to bless me with millions. In many areas we accept that discrimination is
natural. You do not love my child like you love yours. Nor do I expect you to.
And who can convince you that your baby isn’t the best baby ever born? Let's
not complicate the issue by confusing and demonizing the meaning of the word. It can mean the
unjust treatment of a certain group, or just drawing a distinction. One is
needed to make wise decisions, the other is never needed. If I decide not to go
to a particular Mexican restaurant because it has a poor sanitation rating,
that’s smart. If I decide that all Mexican restaurants are unclean, that’s imbecilic. Any area where we have made a sweeping generalization,
especially on a flimsy or mystery motive, is a red flag.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Whether we are the perpetrator
or victim, believers dealing with "racism" or any sin already know
what to do. We don’t need a new plan. The God given one works. Go to your brother,
and try to solve your difference. Communicate with him. That’s biblical. That
is how we handle hostility and grudges. We reach out to the people holding the
grudge, and we listen to their heart. We allow them the opportunity to hear
ours, and we respond based on the truth, not on how they feel. If your brother
feels sad because his wife cheated on Him, you weep with him, but you do not
let the pain he is experiencing cause you to partner with him if he decides to
go and murder her lover. One reaction holds the power of life, the other
produces more hate and division, so that the end result of the original wrong, is
surpassed by the foolishness that follows.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Unfortunately, this is what
I see some in the church now doing. We seem to want to compensate for past
attitudes and failures by replacing it with an attitude of acceptance of
everything. Due to where it leads, I find this scarier than "racism."
It means we are willing to sacrifice truth for what we feel. Our feelings are
now our gods. Think of the implications of that? Currently, those who do not
conform to the "group feeling" on a matter are being corrected, reeducated,
silenced or destroyed. Thus far the harm to those individuals have only been
financial, but evil is unquenchable. It will demand more. If we don’t address
this now, those who are most powerful will control whose “feelings" are
most worthy to be honored, and maybe even permanently silenced.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Right now, it looks like it
is mostly the feelings of blacks that matter. I definitely want black people to
have a voice. I have a personal interest in that, but no one voice should control
a free society. Especially when it mimics a hostile takeover, and establishes
fear as its might. These dynamics will shift to other groups. Each with a more
radical mission than the last. For these reasons we, the church must govern ourselves based
on righteous principles. In our quest for unity let us throw off everything
that hinders and entangles our walk-in truth, and pursue the hearts of all men
with the good news from God. The best way to fight "racism" is to
live in complete obedience to the wisdom of God. If we lay down our cross to pick
up the banner of anything or anyone other than Christ, we join the defeated,
and do a disservice to the power of God. Fight for the hearts of men, and the
kingdom of God. It is not a one issue battle. It is not a fight to cure a
symptom. It is a war against the cause, the disease of evil that penetrates our
very nature. The only cure is Christ.</span></div>
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<strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">SYSTEMIC RACISM</span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"></span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I do think racism is
systemic, but not exactly in the way some want me to. All evil is systemic. It
is built into the system, the flesh of men. It becomes institutional because
men lead institutions. Many in the black community believe white power, over a
system designed by whites, and for whites is the main opposition to black progress,
and success. It is a true lie.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">How long are we to pretend
systemic racism is only a matter of white oppression, and give black leaders a
pass? I recently watched Oprah hold a forum among black Americans. It was on
systemic racism for the purpose of finding a path forward. She included those who shared congruent views, but excluded
those who did not. She and others routinely ostracize the voices of black
libertarians, independents, and conservatives. This exclusion screams
discrimination. It is at the very least, discrimination of thought, and as a
result help. Selecting only those with whom you agree, is actually fixing the
conversation to favor your outcome. She was doing the very thing she was
hosting a forum to remedy. Black leaders in America, and others have created a
system whereby they discriminate against conservative voices entirely. They
deny them every opportunity to advance or have input in the black community.
It's a blatant double standard. It's a minor example, but please acknowledge
that prejudices exist among people of the same group.</span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: inherit; margin-bottom: .25in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0.25in; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #2c3338;">Should we only focus on
fixing "racism” coming from whites? Do we ignore it among ourselves? No.
We should start with us. We have been fighting "racism" for years. I
believe our unity is paramount to the success of that. It may even be the pivot
on which the system changes. At the very least addressing all the problems we
face, will make us stronger. It also preempts infighting. If we can change the
"man in the mirror" we can surely change the world.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">It is undeniable that
people of the same groups hurt each other. In many cases, it is a more
effective weapon than any outside force. I remember the Rwandan genocide. The
horror of the Hutus and Tutsis, and the caste system in India, teaches me
compassion nor protection is assured on the grounds of color alone. Even my
personal history highlights this. I was teased because I’m a darker shade on
the black spectrum. I'm not attempting to equate name-calling to systemic
racism. I'm simply acknowledging our equal opportunity to create such a system among ourselves.
Truth comes before change. The fact that I’ve been called “nigger” by whites
does not outweigh being called “tar baby” by blacks. Both were meant to demean. Both are attitudes of the heart that lead to the suppression of others.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Let’s be honest before the
Lord who already knows our hearts, we discriminate within the black community.
Be it skin color, or even hair type, it's there. Judge rightly. Whether perfect
equity or superiority in society, neither secures equality among blacks. Color
aside, I don’t want to be considered less than any man. That's tantamount to
trading a master for a master. I'd rather be free. This conversation is a lot
deeper than we are willing to go. Our community needs healing from the inside
too. Don’t be mad because I told the truth. Be humbled before the Lord by it.
God will not bless hypocrisy among us. Nor will we ever be made whole by
telling half the truth. Honor God and put the Kingdom over culture, and
country. Be prepared to surrender your “black card” for your believer card.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">If we are going to talk
about systemic racism, we have to deal with it on both sides, blacks and
whites. I see systemic racism among blacks, in that we discriminate against
other blacks. Some of those who are wealthy, have built on the backs of the
poor in their own community. The most discriminated group in America is black
conservatives. Blacks have joined with whites to bully them into silence.
That’s because evil will partner with evil, regardless of color. These black people
are ignored, and in most cases, they are not considered "black
enough." They are “Uncle Toms.” Am I to pretend I don’t see that, and that
that discrimination is different? How? I argue that it is worse, because the
perpetrators know what it feels like to be silenced. They claim to know what it
is like to be denied the opportunity to advance, and yet they do it to others.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I would also have to call
out the systemic issue of abortion. How are we going to talk about systemic
racism and not mention that? Margret Sanger was a pioneer in the eugenics
movement. She advocated forced sterilization. Neither she, nor founder Alan
Frank Guttmacher, were vague about the goal of Planned Parenthood. It was
“population control.” Their words. I realize that this message has been
scrubbed. If you go to sites like Wikipedia these people have been deified.
They are now leaders in the field of "reproductive rights." They were
pioneers in “family planning.” Come on! They intentionally instituted policies
that have led to the slaughter of millions of black Americans. If it’s family
planning why is most of the “planning” happening in black communities? Why is
most of these “family planning” clinics setup in black neighborhoods? Why are
we continuing to sacrifice our babies in these clinics because someone told us
we need to adopt their plan? Murder is not a plan. That is genocide. It was
calculated. It was introduced in the black community as hope, for struggling
moms, as an alternative for low income people, by people who were white, and
boldly racist. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">There is no more excuse for
our ignorance. We would look into this if we were honest. Stop letting politics
rewrite history, pervert your integrity, and tell us how to think. Go read
Margaret Sanger and the Negro project. Read reports like Birth control and the
Negro. Even though there is a push to recharacterize her and recast her image,
and to make the motives of people like her less known, you can find it if you
want too. Is it worth a few hours of your time to investigate, and see that
murder was planned and determined for us as people a long, long time ago? That
we were considered “unfit, the lowest elements of society, the great problem of
the south, something to be remove for racial betterment.” At the time Sanger
advise that this project should not be carried out by medical white men. “Why?
Perhaps for the same reason she said,</span></div>
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<em><b><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">"We do not want word
to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population and the minister is
the man who can straighten out that idea if it ever occurs to any of their more
rebellious members."</span></b></em><strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"> </span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Margret Sanger.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">These are the very words of
the pioneer in the “birth control movement.” If we truly care about systemic
racism in the black community, we would confront this. But we don’t want to
know. It would inconvenience us. We would have to change, so we close our ears
and disparage those who dare to speak the truth. It truly makes me angry
because we want others to hear our cries for help but we ignore the very
children in our womb. It is our privilege to take their lives. It is our
privilege to ignore their murders because it is what is best for us. That
sounds a lot like the very thing we are accusing whites of when we say systemic
racism and white privilege.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I find it hard to unite
with many people of my color in this area. I cannot reconcile the hypocrisy
here. If racism is systemic, the battle to end abortion is ground zero in the
fight. We are killing the hope in our community. Abortion is contract killings
made legal, and advanced for the express purpose of taking out as many black
lives as possible. I cannot get behind any movement that will not acknowledge
it, much less fight against it. Instead, many of us support it. It is dishonest
to advocate for our rights, while denying the rights of others, and then try to shut down
those who point that out. I can never partner with someone who only wants me to
say what they want, especially when it concerns denying the truth. So, pardon
me if I’m not crying over the life that you do have. My heart is broken for the
lives many of our children didn’t get to have. Instead I ask that you join in
the fight against systemic racism for them.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Abortion is not the only
“help” that has been less than helpful. Many Welfare programs offer us
resources in exchange for our hopes and dreams. To accept welfare programs
indefinitely, is to agree to live according to the state’s idea of your value.
I’m not bashing aid. I’m bashing the system of living of aid as income. It is
not a life plan. We should never grow comfortable or conditioned to easy money
given by authority. We certainly shouldn’t trust it. Nor should we expect to
advance in this way.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Wherever you are given
something you have to pay for it in some form. We must ask ourselves why are
there incentives to get on these programs, but not to get off? What has the
cost of these things been? Much like abortion, they look like the answer, like
hope, like light, but it is not real light. It is a cozy a trap. It keeps you
living up to the government potential, and under yours, or God’s potential for
you. Much like abortion has led to stagnation in our community, elimination of
promise, and inequality in wealth, these programs also lead to stagnation in
our success, redistribution of promise and inequality in wealth. At best they
were designed to help for a short time, at worst they were intended to disable.
I have come to believe the latter. They pacify to complacency, and if you want
to oppress a man never give him a reason to fight. He might actually win.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Systemic racism? Yes, but
not in the way it is being presented. We are not being robbed of opportunity in
the zillions because whites are currently subjugating us. We made that
concession decades ago. We are currently being robbed of growth, power and
success because we have agreed and supported the calculated destruction, lies and
desire of those who see us as too ignorant to know better. We have furthered
them, and destroy any who dare speak against them. It is systemic racism by
agreement, systemic racism through cultural consent. That is the bad news and the
good news. We can change all of this if we truly examine all the ills in our
community, unite and think for ourselves. We don’t need anyone’s permission to
heal us. We can do this, but as long as we promote and support politicians who
tell us what it means to be black, count on systemic racism being around for a
while. This is a fight for all Americans, but black Americans must lead it.</span></div>
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<strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">BETWEEN US</span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"></span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I’m attempting to address
the whole truth or at least as much of it as I can. Now, I don’t for one minute
believe that there aren’t discriminatory practices carried out specifically
against the black community. I’m not giving anyone a pass for doing so. Most
blacks, myself included, are treated with a presumption of innate ignorance. It
leads to things like low expectations regarding intellect. From it proceeds a
host of discriminatory questions, insinuations, and false offers of aid. It
shows up in strangers telling you what you can and cannot achieve or afford,
explaining obvious things in painfully simplified details, attempting
to speak for you as though you need a translator. I’ve been given old food,
offered unacceptable living conditions, and damaged materials, simply because I
wasn’t expected to know what quality is. It is the same spirit I see in the
handouts from the government. Conveniently, this presumption of innate
ignorance also leads to a dismissal of our valid concerns regarding prejudice.
We are considered too slow and biased a source. One which cannot be trusted to recognize
racial problems, much less point them out.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Additionally, we are
treated with an attitude of suspicion. We are not afforded the benefit of the
doubt as often. This leads to incidents of extra vigilance, surveillance and
aggressive “justice.” It’s the cause of questions like, did you pay for that?”
It’s the reason I’ve been followed in stores, and in my neighborhood. It’s the
reason I’m stopped leaving stores while the white friends I’m with, are not.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I do not believe Derek
Chauvin woke up that morning with “kill a black man” on his to do list. But
it's the "little foxes" that often cause the big damage. Some are
still debating the cause of Floyds death. Was it the knee or something else?
Seriously? Discard the fact that the officer actually appeared to be taking pleasure in
what he was doing, and almost taunting the crowd with it, had he gotten off of
that man sooner, after he stopped resisting, perhaps he could have received
help sooner. At the very least, it would make this situation less messy. Maybe there is another camera angle, but I saw no resistance, nor
did the onlookers filming, and pleading with him to get off Floyd. It’s
reckless to apply added force where it is not needed. To deny medical care
while you do so, is cruel. Whether it was racial or not, it was not right. To
behave so carelessly while in a position of power is abuse. But it's familiar. Arrogance with a certain casual disregard. It hurts. Blacks have seen this
abuse so many times and in so many ways. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">This is what the outrage in
the streets is about. Blacks know that for every George Floyd who dies on the
streets, there are many more who don’t die. They are stopped, and
delayed for little are no reason then dismissed to repeat the cycle again. It is frustrating to be pulled over, and hear
an officer fumble for a reason why. In those instances, you are happy to go
home, but fully aware that the "powers that be" seem to exercise a
little “more power” over you. For me, and for many blacks the question isn't is
racism real. We know it is. There is no debate among us. The hatred we have
experienced is as real as apple pie, and the Fourth of July. The question is: how
do we respond to it? What's the solution? Before we can come together and fix
it, we have to acknowledge it. Some still don’t see it.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">It’s been my experience
that white people seem to think more of hooded robes, and racial slurs when
defining racism. Many of the things which affect black people outside of that
escapes them. They don’t always recognize it, because they are not dealing with
the same things. That’s fair. On some levels we are living in two Americas in
terms of how we are viewed. I compare it to an argument between an old married
couple fighting over the same topic all of their relationship. They have the same
fight repeatedly, and every time they will disagree. Neither side changes their
mind. They just leave with the same unresolved issues. They tolerate each other
for a while, but the problem is just beneath the surface. It pops up every few
months or so.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">At this point, race in
America is a lot like that couple. Neither party is completely wrong. They just
have different viewpoints. In many ways I see blacks as the offended party
saying, “look at what you did, and continue to do to me.” Meanwhile whites are
like, “you are still here, it’s not that bad. Get over it so we can move on.”
It’s very much like, a nagging wife, and an obstinate husband, only more
dangerous. At least the couple’s problem only involves two people, who will both
die, and take their fight with them. As a society the conversation involves
everyone. It is passed from generation to generation. It’s been going on too
long, and neither party signed up for it, or likes their role in it. The only
thing we can agree on is that we are all tired.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Believe it or not racism is
not the only thing that black people want to talk about, but we're just
experiencing it more frequently than white Americans understand. It’s
dehumanizing. Some of us are holding things back. We don’t share much of it. It
is a difficult thing to navigate what to tell. I’d rather walk through it with
my God, than tell a friend who downplays it or dismisses me. I find that more
painful. It's easier to keep the most heartbreaking things to ourselves. It's
also hard to let the people who are hurting you know that what they are doing
is effective. Why strengthen the arm of one who would use it to torment you?
Right or wrong that’s the reasoning. So, on the one hand blacks nag because
they want you to get involve, but many keep a barrier around their hearts,
because if they really shared, they risk more hurt in the form of dismissal.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I’ve heard some ask, “Why
can’t we focus on what's right and not what's wrong?” That's a fair thought,
but what's wrong still happens pretty often. And then when you look over and
see one group of people not as affected or even concern by some of what’s
wrong, it gets a bit hard to swallow. Especially, when you are struggling
regularly with things that others deny exist. <br />
Try to understand. I’ve heard many white people say, "Stop looking at the
past, while flashing a rebel flag. Excuse me, but is that not a flag from the
past? Or is that the new flag of 2020?</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Others, have been quick to
say that slavery ended centuries ago (they mostly get the date wrong) but they
ignore the fact that civil rights is a more recent thing. We are still living
among people who fought for it, black and white, and all were affected by it.<br />
I've met so many whites who say “racism is wrong. I'm not that way, but my…”
Then they proceed to out the family members who are. These same people then
advise that “we (black people) need to move past it.” I'm always astonished
that they don't see the obvious conflict between saying, “black
people need to get over it,” and the existence of their racist relatives. If
your uncle’s family are racists, are they also hermits? Because unless they are
hermits, they are interacting with the public, with me, my family and other
black families. They are the ones following me around stores, clutching their
bags like life support, serving the person of their color preference when I was
clearly first, refusing or provide assistance etc. Some are hiring, and firing. Others are making arrests.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Now, you'd like to think
that they don't act that way in public, but it does seep out, and it expresses
itself in many ways. If you are going to give advice to the black community
about moving on, then make sure you are equally advising all racist
acquaintances to do so as well. I’m not telling you not to love your family,
but you are also called to love the family of God. If you will stand for the
truth across the board, it will bring healing to all around you. You don’t have
to have all the right words, but until our identity in God supersedes our
identity in the world, we will never have reconciliation.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I think the anger over the
continued dismissal, denial, and complacency, from the white community has
pushed some black people to their breaking point. Even Christians are
justifying and softening their stance on sin in desperation to express their
rage. They are saying things like, “I don’t agree with the violence in the
protests, but I understand it.” They then go on to express the “understanding
of the violence” with greater passion than the condemnation of it. What is
that? Let’s not make sin relative for the sake of getting even, and
"social justice." People are being murdered over televisions. Are we
so desperate for action, we’ll accept anything? That feels more like revenge.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I’ve also heard some in the
church say looting, rioting, and violence is acceptable because black people
have tried peaceful protest, like kneeling for the national anthem, and no one
cared. They received more criticism and venom over being unpatriotic than the
cause of their kneeling. Defenders of violence rationalize that peaceful
attempts are dismissed, and blacks continue to be considered violent thugs
despite their attempts to draw attention to inequality. They reason that it’s
time to act like the hoodlums we are presumed to be, if that’s what gets us
equality. To hear a believer, express this is astounding. Do whites get this
privilege? Are you also willing to say white people can act like racists
because they are exhausted from being constantly accused of it? Do all the
whites who have fought against hatred, but are still being labelled hopelessly
racist, do they get to apply this rationale too? Following the logic that
violent protesters are just acting the way that they are assumed to be, then
white people should be able to act racist as they are assumed to be. This is
madness.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Another thought that has
been expressed was that “Martin Luther King was a good man, but Malcolm X had
the better idea.” And to that I say, for every Malcolm X there is a David
Duke?” Hate breeds hate. Is that what we want?</span></div>
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<strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">GOT YA!</span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"></span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">For many the video of
George Floyd has been the “got ya” video of our failure on racism, that
includes in the body of Christ. Many people can now see what blacks have been
saying and they are ashamed. Many blacks now feel they have the proof of what
was known and rejected all along, and their anger, pain, sadness and fear over
it is real. White people if you have been dismissive of what is going on with
regard to your fellow Americans, repent and commit your way to the Lord. He
will guide you to love others, and show you how to carry your brother's burden
and not his bitterness or live within the boundaries he puts on you.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Black American, despite the
pain soften your heart to hope. There is no amount of pain that allows you to
impose, restrict or silence the voices of others. You cannot say you want
racial reconciliation but allow only one race to speak. That’s superiority. We
know what that feels like. Say what you need to say, but allow the other side
to have some thoughts and ideas. Will they say some things that infuriate you?
Probably. Are they going to understand it all? Probably not. We need patience
to live with each other. That is why it is a gift of the Spirit. It came from
Heaven. God has it with us, and we need it to interact with each other. There
is no such thing as being too patient here.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">We must fight our hearts to
forgive the hardest things. It wants to hold on to every wrong, and make sure
it is accounted for. It is accounted for by our savior who died for it. Let us
also remember, God has said "vengeance is mine. I will repay." Why do
we lay aside the counsel of God because we hurt? Is our God no longer just?
Will evil always win? Do we not trust His justice, or do we think He will
somehow be complicit? Rise up people of God choose Him and follow his ways. We
will not solve "social injustice" through legislation or anything
that the world is proposing. You cannot legislate evil and hate out of the
heart of man. I wish that no one were racist, but if you can figure out how to
legislate hatred out of man and love into him, you would have effectively
solved the greatest problem of all time, rendering every faith and god
unnecessary. If the atheist wants to abolish faith they should work on that
problem, because the quest of faith really is the desire for love and
significance.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">If we did manage such a
fete, it wouldn’t last long, because the laws come from the purity of the heart
of the one who wrote them. Without absolute goodness, the law of the one giving
it is always vulnerable. What I’m saying is if man managed to create a perfect
code of laws, then it is only as strong as his character. And should he change
his heart, he will also change his word. The perfect system would then be at
the mercy of whoever is in charge. All men know and live this. How many times
do we intend to do something, and fail? Whether it is New Year’s resolutions or
life goals, we write them down and often don’t keep them. The law can only
benefit us if we keep it. Those who have a heart and a mind rebellious to the
law of God and the law of man will always break it.</span></div>
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<strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">WHITE PRIVILEGE</span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"></span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Racism is so subtle. It is
a shape shifter. It can be the obvious insult like, “porch monkey” or “ape,” or
come in the form of a “compliment” like “you’re pretty for a black girl.” But
sometimes it happens even when nothing is said. It is attitude, or reluctance
to serve, and eagerness to dismiss. I will admit that sometimes it’s hard
explaining these things to others. It further complicates conversations on the
topic. Many are angry that whites are even afforded the luxury of ignorance
here, and that they are not navigating these things with regularity. Terms like
“white privilege” starts getting thrown around. White privilege is used to
describe the discrepancy between how hard a black and white person have to work
to achieve the same goal. It is the belief that an advantage is historically,
disproportionally and automatically assigned to the ones who lead this society
since its founding. I struggle with this. I believe there is a kernel of truth here.
Slavery definitely wasn’t for the benefit of the slaves, but how long that
advantage lasted, and is it still in a handicap for blacks today is more the
question. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I tend to disagree with the
extent of its affect today. It’s not that racism has gone away, but at what
point do we say it is over? Do we seriously think we will ever have 100%
compliance against black discrimination? I don’t think we can. If we could, why
not reform murder, and molestation out of society? We recognize the
impossibility based on human nature. We don’t attempt to suggest eliminating
other sins in this way. I feel we are being dishonest. The only way hate ends,
is if we end all humanity. Why are we setting a higher and more impossible
standard here than with all other sins? It is in its own special class, so it
deserves a special treatment. Treating this sin like the unpardonable one,
gives us an excuse to hold on to bitterness and to keep fighting the same
problem forever. We will create more laws, and more programs and more failures
as a result, because it will merely shift the privilege from one group to
another. With everything I receive because I’m black someone will be robbed
because they are not. I do not want to gain in this way. Many will argue it’s
about leveling the playing field. I don’t believe that. If that were true how
come we are only advocating it for one group of people? Has no one else in
America been wronged? I seem to remember this land belonging to another group
of people before whites and blacks got here. They should be at the head of the
table of any discussion regarding wealth redistribution. In fact, they should
decide who gets what. To leave them out is disrespectful, and it feels a little
more like targeting, an excuse to exploit a situation that can never be repaid.
</span></div>
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</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; line-height: inherit; margin-bottom: .25in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; margin: 0in 0in 0.25in; orphans: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">The real issue is
hypocrisy. Which of you, black or white would be willing to give up your
birthright, and switched with somebody from Haiti, Sudan, Somalia? I mean no
disrespect, but who is willing to trade their birthright for someone in India
to come here and live as you are, while you go there and live as they would be?
Better yet, don't just give up your birthright, but go only with the clothes on
your back to Haiti, Uganda, Ethiopia and work your way from the ground up. Then
come back and tell me if there's no such thing as American privilege. You see,
if we are going to talk about white privilege in America, then we have to
discuss American privilege in the world. That puts us all in a very vulnerable
position. Americans collectively would have to give up their stuff for the
inequity in the rest of the world whose people also are exploited.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Let's not be hypocrites
here. Chinese sweat shops are real. African poverty is real. Americans have been privileged enough to turn a blind eye and benefit from both; yet what are we doing on an individual level
to address those things? As painful as it is, we don’t get to prioritize our
injustices above those of others. America’s wealth is due to many factors.
Should those who rightly or wrongly attribute it to the exploitation of certain
nations decide to equalize privilege, and gather on our shores to collect, few
will make a distinction between a white and a black American. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">The denial is baffling.
Many black and white American kids are wearing name brand clothing, three
hundred-dollar sneakers, while filming their “white privilege” protests on thousand-dollar
phones! It completely escapes them how wealthy they are here. Meanwhile, there
are parts of the world where people are literally eating dirt. How could they
not know the privilege it is to be born in this country? The system has failed
to educate them. There is a large percentage of the world that would do
anything to be poor in America. Personally, I want to scream "youth privilege!" When I
was a kid, we had one tv. It was a luxury. I shared a room with four siblings,
and got my first car as an adult. Nowadays these are expected items of most
American kids, and still they demand more. They seem completely disconnected
from the reality of the hard work connected to providing these things. American youth
privilege is a thing. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Entitlement is their real
problem. They don't seem to understand that not everyone is supposed to be wealthy. Not everyone is going to be
content. Just because the people three streets over have nice cars, doesn’t
mean I should have them to. I’m not entitled to anything I didn’t work for.
That is an essential part of free societies. The moment we start believing we
are entitled to what others have, we will start to demand it and take things
from them. That’s not freedom. That’s oppression. It makes me only as free to
do and have as much as you deem acceptable. This is not America. The most
attractive thing about this country is that it is a land of endless
possibilities, and promise. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">If we are going to eliminate all unfair privileges then in addition to American
privilege, and youth privilege, there is an even larger elephant in the room,
male privilege. When do we make males account for their cruelty against females? We can fill volumes on this one, and still never do it much justice.
This is why we need to practice forgiveness. Radical forgiveness. Without it,
we are wandering hopeless. Borrowed or inherited pain, chains us to the past,
and wrecks our future. It continues to add interest and grow the debt we
perceived we are owed. The larger it grows the harder it becomes to let
go. Whether anger over slavery, or guilt from it, this is true for whites
and blacks. We must all learn to free ourselves through seeking forgiveness. This is the greatest
privilege of all.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Privilege isn't a bad
thing. As a parent I to try provide the privilege of college and many other
things for my kids. Their education will cost us. We
understand privilege is connected to work ethic. Many black Americans feel we
have to work a bit harder. We have to be twice as good, at the same job.
We have to have the right attitude, or bite our tongues to avoid the
"angry black..." label. This pressure is real. There are many people waiting
for us to mess up to prove what they suspect, we are worthless, less than, lazy. In many work situations it's an unspoken fight to prove you are equal to
or worthy. I stopped fighting this battle a long time ago. I don't need to
vindicate the color of my earthly heritage, but to reveal the character of my
Heavenly Father. It has allowed me to make peace with this pressure.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">To be fair I've heard of
many instances where the opposite is also true, black Americans performing
horribly on the jobs, but white employers afraid to fire due to Affirmative
Action. Yes, that's wrong too. Obviously, in those situations the person/s feel
none of the pressures I previously described. And while I do understand why we
needed such programs; I hate that we still have to have them. I don't think anyone
should be stuck with a lazy employee, when they could have a better one. I
fully recognize that Affirmative Action is riddled with problems. It is the
very definition of being "judged by the color of our skin, and not the
content of our character." What's the answer to this? Can America be
trusted to judge fairly if AA were removed? I hope so, but I truly don't know.
What I do know is decades after Dr. Martin Luther King's speech, "The
Dream" remains unfulfilled. We are still judged by the color of our skin,
and others are moved to the back of the line, for the good this reverse
"Jim Crowish" law accomplishes. Despite its original purpose, it is privilege. Many black people will disagree with me on this, but can't help but see that.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Surprisingly, there is one
potential point of agreement. If white privilege exists, is widespread and
debilitating, then it needs to be solved. The question becomes who can be
trusted to solve it? Whites are apparently not solving it fast enough, nor
would they have any interest, or incentive to. Blacks can’t be an unbiased
source. So, if we all accept that it exists, who solves the problem of white
privilege in America? </span></div>
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<strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">AMERICAN</span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"></span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Perhaps this is where the
real conversation on race in America should begin. It seems many black
Americans still consider themselves something other than that. They are still
searching for a home, a real identity. Many have no stake in this country
because they have separated themselves from it. Even the name African-American
denotes some special class of American citizenship. You are American. Many
fought and died for your right to be one. They didn’t fight for you to be
African American. Just one look at us and the fact that we are of African
descent is obvious. No one will confuse us with being European Americans. It’s
like a desperate grasp for an identity we lost. That’s probably the most tragic
part of slavery, the loss of a real identity. We will never get that back in
the way that it was intended.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Instead, please accept that
a group of courageous Americans, black, and white fought for our stake to make
this country work for us, and for us to be included in what they were building,
to make us owners, Americans. That is what you are, and no amount of calling
ourselves African American will change that. The soles of your feet have never touched the shores of Africa, nor has the soles of your grandparent’s feet. You
own nothing there, and unless you are investing there, you have little claim.
It's been a long time since you've been truly connected to Africa. Those who
built the American Nation share in the hard work and labor, you should share in
the rewards as American. They wanted this freedom for you. It is your
inheritance.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Paradoxically the name
African-American seems both foolish and fitting. It’s foolish in that Africa is
an entire continent, not a country. The name meant to clarify identity further
confuses it. My immediate question tends to confuse some. "What part of
Africa are you from?" I have friends who were born and raised in various
countries in Africa. Some of them are white. Their parents were missionaries in
Cameroon, Tanzania, Nigeria and Kenya. They know well the nations, regions and
cities they were born in. They know the culture and customs. They speak the respective
language of their African countries. They knew nothing of America except that
they were white and of American parents. Africa was, is and will always be
home. Yet, they who have such deep ties to the countries and continent of Africa are not really allowed to
call themselves African American in America, because it is a color description, not a
true cultural identity. “African Americans,” would you be offended if my white
friends call themselves African American? Are American blacks more
"African-American" than whites born and raised in Africa? It’s a
bizarre reversal, and it feels very discriminatory. How can you be more
African, than someone from Africa?</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">The term "African
American” is sad, and fitting in that even with the use of the word “African”
which seeks to define, and clarify identity, it adds no clarification at all.
Both Africa and America are continents. The person can be from any country in
Africa and either of two American continents. The two words tell us nothing
about the identity of a person, only that they are of African descent and
belong to one of the Americas. The person with the title is lost in a name too
big to add real meaning. It’s time to just be an American. Perhaps something so
simple will begin to unify us even if only in a slight way.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">What’s missed is that the
world sees us as American. That’s it. We are one people whether we like it or
not. In our efforts to identify let's remember, and celebrate things that
unify. We can celebrate The Emancipation Proclamation, and the end of Jim Crow.
And don’t settle for black history being reduced to a month. It is a part of
American history. It’s little things like these that serve to further
segregate. This time we are the ones choosing segregation for ourselves. We don't need black history
month. We need our story told in the United States of America, at all times.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">If you are American, you
are part of the greatest nation on earth, the envy of many nations. It is a
privilege and a blessing to be here. Even when we disagree, at least we know
that we can protest, and express it. Let’s not shrink back from ownership in
the land. Join the culture and become a part of it. Stop allowing the pain of
racial experiences to push you to the outside.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">If you are not proud of
your country, I respect that at some point you will have to be a part of the
system that changes it, however if the change means destroying or targeting one
group, it is too slippery a slope. We've been down that road before. I’ve never
seen a society prosper by blaming and targeting one group of people as the sole
contributor of all its problems. In fact, that has been the exact excuse for many
great atrocities.</span></div>
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<strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">REPARATIONS</span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"></span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Don’t hear me saying, I do
not want equality. I appreciate beyond words the benefits of those who fought
for it. I’m not talking about balancing the scales of justice, I’m talking
about pursuing things that would tip them in another direction, A lot of people
are saying we should impose legislation, and bring a list of demands, and force
others to give us reparations for slavery. That sounds good, but that's not
wise. It seems like justice and light, but it’s not. It’s a lie from Satan and
all good lies come disguised as light or we would never choose them. This one is
no exception and it’s never going to fix the problem. It will tear us further
apart. if we were to get reparations, how do you change the heart of a man who
isn't towards you, especially after you have forced him to hand over his goods?
He will grow to resent you even more and our society will be left to continue
living with an added layer distrust and a deeper divide. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">We are being dishonest when
we talk about reparations. I’m not saying that it should not have happened, I’m
just saying that it is too late for that to happen without us creating more
injustice. How does adding injustice to a strained system solve the issues? And
just How far do we go back? Do we go back only to right the wrongs done against
blacks, or do we go back to the Native Americans? Do we go back to Africa to
find the families robbed of their loved ones? Do we demand reparations of
descendants of blacks who also participated in the slave trade and owned
slaves? Do white Americans, in light of black reparations get to demand
reparations if they were exploited too? What about indentured servants? We need
to be honest and vocal.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Black believers must deal
rightly, and not be silent at the potential of gain. Our soul is not for sale.
We are children of the truth. We cannot be like Judas and betray the faith for
financial opportunity. Be objective. How far do we go back to make it
right? How much do we give? Who should give? Should all tax payers give? Are
Immigrants expected to contribute to this? How do we make it fair? Certainly,
the slave owner that had one slave shouldn’t be charged with giving the same
amount as the one who had hundreds? And should reparations be made toward every
black person or every family? How then do we trace the number of people to give
to? Do we charge other nations that were complicit with the US, which allowed
slave ships, supplied and transported people? Should reparations be given to
equal number of black Americans as there were slaves? Who decide who gets it? </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">This is insanity. Savagery
was committed against blacks. It should not have happened, but we will never
legislate it aright. Those men who owned slaves, who claimed decency, morality,
and God should have led the way with reparations at that time. They could have brought so
much healing to our land. They should have given, or perhaps their children
should have, those who had firsthand knowledge and profited from slavery, but I
suppose if they were willing to be that gracious, we would never have had to
fight a civil war. But to try to hold their descendants responsible over a century
and a half after the emancipation proclamation is unjust. Perhaps you can twist
a few biblical passages to drag out support for your belief, you will not find
overwhelming biblical support for holding the children responsible for their
father’s sins, unless the children in their hate for God continue to practice
the sins of their fathers. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">All of that aside, how long
do we continue to allow this legacy of enslavement to define our future? How
long do we keep looking back like Lot’s wife and counting the cost? When will
we be able to accept that we have suffered a loss, and like Paul count it
rubbish for the cause of Christ? Family, this world is not our home. You have
not lost anything that God has not accounted for. Trust Him. He will make this
right. We don’t rely solely on the justice of the world to handle our
grievances. We give it to our God that’s what He is here for. Christians were
never meant to judge and fight like the world does. We were not meant to fight
fair, but by extreme might. We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against spiritual evil. Accordingly, the weapons of our warfare are not of this world, nor of the flesh. It has divine power to demolish strongholds. Racism is a
stronghold. With it comes arguments, and lofty opinions. These things
masquerade as resolutions, but they exalt themselves against God’s knowledge.
We must take these thoughts captive and make sure they obey Christ. If not,
they will take us captive and waste the hope of God in us. Let’s fight
according to the power of God in us. Stop bringing inferior weapons to fight
hatred. When others bring the weapons of the world, we bring the weapons of our
God. It is superior. We are not supposed to ignore the lie. We expose and
obliterate it. </span></div>
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<strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">BLACK LIVES MATTER</span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"></span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">It is the hottest
"social justice" movement, and people are bowing down in droves. It was supposed to be a stance against police brutality. It has become
an identity. Anyone who supports it is a freedom fighter. Anyone who doesn't, is "a part of the problem." Hear this. <i style="font-weight: bold;">Life matters. </i>Therefore, black lives like all the rest, have always mattered. Hatred does not alter God's opinion of the lives He created. It cannot
change the truth, but the whole truth is not being told here. It is a cause for alarm.</span></div>
<span style="color: #2c3338;">It's not my intent to convince anyone that black lives don't matter. I am a "black life." Instead I have a fundamental disagreement with the group that has claimed the name, and asserted a premise against which there is little argument. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">The group has garnered support and is profiting based on a slogan it does not believe. It says
"black lives matters" but does not act like it. They treat other
black lives as though they do not matter. Black people killed by the police, their
lives matter. Black people killed by each other, not so much. It seems
the real focus of this group is to educate or reeducate the white community,
and authorities. It does not focus on education in the black community. It
ignores black on black murder after murder, after murder, after murder… Not
once have I seen a protest organized by BLM outside an abortion clinic where we
are losing children within our community by the millions. I have never
seen Black Lives Matter show up at anything that didn’t involve the furtherance
of its business model. It would be nice to hear of BLM reading and mentoring
programs. It would be nice to see them doing something other than demanding
something of others. Surely, we can explore, what can we do for ourselves, and
not just, "What can white people do for us?" They have a huge
platform and massive opportunity. It is missed. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">We must discuss murder
within the black community. Why are we avoiding this? Every time it comes up,
some want the subject dropped immediately. How many young black men have died
at the hands of other young black men since George Floyd? It has to be
addressed because these things relate. It is not a different subject from
police brutality and murder, it is a part of it. Murders, assaults, any kind of
criminality within the black community, gives the police valid reasons for
their presence there. We increase the chances for these negative interactions
when we give them a multitude of excuses to come into our communities. Perhaps if we
decreased the violence against each other, we can lessen our contact with law
enforcement even if only slightly. I'm not blaming any victim for unlawful
actions by law enforcement. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I know there will be those
who will say that law enforcement will harass black people no matter what we
do. True, but how much more would that be the case if given a reason? Sure, there are thugs behind badges. I think that is true of white and black
cops. We won't be able to do much about those other than take legal action.
Thankfully, we have cameras. We can also work to develop systems that
better eliminate those who feed off of control, and power, by becoming a
police officer. I believe there are good cops and bad cops. I will join and
agree with anyone who wants to weed out the horrible ones, but the good cops
need our support in the midst of this. They are being targeted for wearing a
uniform. Could you imagine, risking your life for low pay and the public you
are protecting every day wants you dead? BLM lost me with the whole killing
cops chant a few years ago. There are black and white officers. Tell me, do you want
"justice" so badly you are willing to any officer regardless of color, or criminality? The
greater question becomes why are we moving in a way that kills anyone? Some
argue that the BLM movement has been hijacked. Then why the silence in it? Why
not simply say, "Our peaceful movement has been over taken by those with
other interests. We condemn the murder of any police officer." I've never
heard it. Silence screams consent. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">As BLM condones the war on
cops, those who will be affected most are in the black community. What then?
More and more police officers are leaving the job. Who wants to be assassinated
for their career of trying to wanting to help? The streets are hard enough as it is, as
law enforcement dwindles, these areas will become more and more lawless. What's
the plan to combat that? We cannot work indiscriminately against the police and
expect them to be there when we need them. The reality is we need good
officers. Let's protect them. They protect us. There is no doubt education
within our community regarding police interactions need to take place. Massive
efforts should be made to teach people what actions can be taken if they are
being harassed or stopped unlawfully. It cannot hurt to arm a person with their
right as a citizen, and what is expected of them by their local government.
</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">We must also acknowledge
that we teach people how to treat us. How can I disrespect my kind repeatedly
before the world and then tell the world they matter? How could I demand a
respect for my family, that I don’t give them? This is what is happening in the
black community. We do terrible things to each other with uncomfortable
regularity. Then, we expect people to treat us sacredly. I’m not saying they
shouldn’t. They should, but let’s not pretend that we are not setting a
horrible example of how to treat us, by the way we treat each other. It’s the
classic “do as I say, not as I do."</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Further, I take issue with
any organization that is resistant to hearing "all lives matter."
Fight the battle that you want to fight, but how can you be offended by the
push back of people who are exercising the same freedom you are? If a group
wanted to fight for all lives that’s noble, as long as they carry it out. I
long for the day when that is actually the case, we start fighting for all
lives, and no longer have to segregate causes. Again, no need to explain it.
I get the point behind Black Lives Matters, but I do not believe it will bring
positive changes. I think it is dangerous. We have chosen to fight for crumbs
of "black equality," It is the "social justice" hill we will literally
die on, because the cause is dishonest. The weapons less effective, because
it repels not unifies. Just imagine if every cultural group banned together and
started fighting for its right to "matter." That's an excellent way
to begin a civil war. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">The greatest movements in
any nation happens when everyone can get behind it. Whether it was the Civil
War or Civil Rights, many people across racial lines were involved. That is why
we are free. That is why we have rights. We needed <b><i>all</i></b> involved.
This admission angers many blacks, still it is true. But for the help of other
white people, we’d still be doing a lot worse in this land. We have to
acknowledge good in all people. We need to fight for all people. The betterment
of black people in America, betters all people in America. The same is true of
any other race. Until all lives matter, none will.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">The whole thing is also
kind of silly because the goal of fighting for black lives, is to decrease
injustices against blacks and elevate our treatment to the level of all other lives.
So, saying "all lives matter" is restating the mission of Black Lives
Matter. Unless, that’s not the real goal at all and it’s more akin to “some
lives matter more.”</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I am dumfounded that we
could be so easily misled. In an effort to fight for a worthy cause, we sprint
after an ill-crafted lie. It is especially alarming when it is followed by
those in the church. Are we that desperate for meaning that we would abandon
the teaching of God to follow a cleverly devised scheme? Unity cannot build on
exclusion, and it is only attained through faith. I believe this is why
Dr. Martin Luther King never reduced his fight to one group of people. He
fought for the betterment of all men, and women. The rights of black people
happened to be the pressing issue of that time, but it was always about more. Poor. Marginalized. All people.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">My point is, his was a holy
quest, one for the hearts of all men. It sought to lighten the burdens of the
downtrodden, while calling the hearts of the oppressors to humility. He
recognized that blacks were oppressed by hatred, and whites were oppressed
through it. All lives mattered, and all were impacted. Had he fought merely a social ill, how he fought, who, when and where he fought would not have
mattered. It is the why that guides the fight. Fighting against a social ill
isn’t enough. Social ills are a collective manifestation of the individual
heart. Until you bring unity to the hearts of people nothing changes. This is
the goal of faith. That is why we are to treat others in the way we want to be
treated. If we follow this teaching, we will never need anyone to tell us black
lives or any other lives matter. We might even be kinder to pets.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I think the real problem just
might be that black people don’t realize just how much their lives matter. I
recently heard a very passionate young lady compare being in America to playing
a monopoly game, in which you always lost, and enabled your opponent’s win.
Many people agree with this. It’s lethally false. It might explain the
disparity in our community.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">There are clearly those in
the black community who have been winning in America, and for a very long time.
The real question is, why are some winning, and others are not? If the system
was failing us as a whole, I’d agree, but it is not. And despite the outcry
blacks in America have done some remarkable things in the past decades. I’m not
sure where else on planet earth, and what other group would have been able to
advance so fast? All of this was in spite of obstacles thrown in their way. So,
why are some blacks making it, while others are not?</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">A powerful argument could be
made for education, motivation, inspiration, resilience and drive. I could even
make one for nature. I grew up poor by American standards, but I lived near the
beach. Even when my situation was rough, I could always look around and find
hope in the beauty of nature and nature’s God. I couldn’t imagine growing up in
the inner city of even small-town USA much less, Baltimore, Chicago, Detroit,
Los Angeles. Just thinking about it seems stifling on so many levels. Still, I
think the real reason some black Americans are able to advance, and others haven’t,
has to do with leadership.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Whether in the home or
outside the home, the failures within the black community relates heavily to
not having leaders who love us enough to encourage us forward, or challenge us
with truth. We have “leaders” but not servants. They are humbugs, charlatans.
Many of those “leaders” has seized the opportunity to climb to the top by
exploiting the very community they are supposed to be helping. They were led by
the love of money, not their love for us. Some even have the audacity to call
themselves “Christians.” They are “rip off reverends.” Strong, and wise
direction is urgently needed.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">White people cannot really
help us with this. They cannot lead in the black community, because they cannot
lead in our homes. Further, it is not their responsibility nor would we trust
them to. If they cannot lead in our homes how then can they lead in our
neighborhoods? How can we blame them for what goes on in our streets? They
cannot be the face of inspiration for a black man, but if we fail in our homes,
they can be the leaders in justice administration, incarceration, and more.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">It’s happening. The number
of single parent households among blacks is highest in the nation by far, and
there is no dispute that single parenting puts kids at greater risk for many
negative outcomes including prison time and limited education. It’s not my
intent to get in to the stats. Not all dads are great dads. Not all moms are
great moms. But one need not be a genius to know that you are twice as likely
to be home by curfew, do your school work, clean your room, and more if you
have double the accountability to do so. Parents play a major role in setting you up
for success. They hold your feet to the fire, teach you to work hard, and
advance you whether you want to or not. My parents made me do so many things I
would not have done without pressure. Some of them are the foundation of my
life. There is NO substitute for parenting, people who love you and push you
to succeed. It’s hard for a school or institution to have that kind of
influence.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">In place of parenting we
have programs that are meant to support and empower. The lie of empowerment is
that we can do anything to add power to another human being. Only God can do
that. We can encourage, and provoke people to want better for themselves, but
we cannot go beyond affirming their value, and their ability to do so. To
empower, you have to stir up something in a person that says, "I want more
than the expectation assigned to me." This idea of giving people
everything that they demand to help them is false. It creates adult infants, because
nothing they possess came from themselves, by their own hand. You didn't
empower. You just taught them how to accept the handout, and they will continue
to ask for one. That will become the source of their empowerment, gifts. If
there were such a thing as empowerment, then it would be this: you empower
people when you move in a way that encourages them in their value, and teaches
them to act upon their God-given gifts. That's job of parents. Not government. Not whites, schools or Black Lives Matter. Parents.</span></div>
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<strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">BLACK POWER</span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"></span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">All men are born free. They
choose to live restrained. I see this in all communities, but definitely among
black Americans. A strong argument can be made that they are the most powerful
group in America now, and have been for a very long time. But the saddest thing
is, they don’t see it. They don’t see where their power in this country lies,
the black vote has the potential to turn the political system on its head every
two, and four years. It is, an should be used as the swingiest vote in America.
We don’t use our power. We don’t seem to care or understand the amount of
influence and wealth we amass for those for whom we vote to give our power by
proxy. Unfortunately, we have been giving it to the same people over and over.
They aren’t even “shucking an jiving” for it anymore. Instead, they are now
telling us what it means to be black. It’s sad, but fair because they have
invented the narrative of what it means to be black. "Vote democrat.
Support abortion. You need welfare. You can’t make it without us. Everyone else
in the political process who is white, is a racist, except us democrats. All
white democrats are completely non-racists."</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">We bought this garbage. To
the point where we silence any black person who disagrees. The person doesn’t
need to be republican. They can be any other group, but if they are not saying
what the democrats say, they won’t be listened to. It’s very sickening, and not
unlike having a master. If we want change, it’s time to do something different.
A change in us will bring change to us. We certainly, can't keep doing the same
thing and expecting different results.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">We have been giving our
power to one group for so long, they no longer respect us or it. I truly doubt
they ever did. They have their strategy. It works. They threw a few black
people some crumbs to seem inclusive, but have not kept their promises to us.
They constantly remind us how disadvantaged we, and our communities are, yet
they have been the ones entrusted with the power of our vote, and caring for
our communities for decades. How could we still be in the same position when it
was their responsibility to fix it? Black lives do not matter to them, only
green does. We cannot keep giving this power to the same people. Let the lives
of those who fought for our right to vote mean something. Give it the dignity
it deserves. Hold these leaders accountable for the promises they do not keep,
and the lies they tell. It’s time to vote something other than democrat. If you
do it just one time, they will realize the black vote is not a guarantee.
Nor can it be manipulated. They have to work for it. They will change tactics.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">And it’s the tactics that
are most distressing. For the sake of political gain, this country gets ripped
apart every few years. There is big money in racism, because it secures the
loyalty of a swing voting bloc. Black folks. The media is complicit in this, they
tell us all about the racism that is happening all around us. Don’t get me
wrong. I want to hear about it. I want to join that fight, but I started to get
a little concerned when I realized there were zero stories of white men being
shot by white or black police. Am I to conclude that this never happens? Nowhere
in the United States is a white man shot by a white or black police officer? Or
a black man shot by a black officer? Hmmm. I guess there are no black officers
in America. Just white ones bent on lynching.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Interestingly, there is
also <strong><span face=""&quot" , serif">NO </span></strong>black
on white crime in all the land. Black people never harm whites. It is always
the other way around. I cannot remember hearing one incident of discrimination
towards whites. It never happens. Black people are either perfectly
discrimination free, or something more sinister is at play here. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I’ve also watched
breathless white reporters talk about the latest offensive statement by such
and such. They were all just so offended. I was supposed to be outraged and
offended too. They were appealing to that innate ignorance they think we all
have. They have to tell black people when to be offended, because apparently,
we don't know. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">The media’s obsession with
race is sick, and hypocritical. Which “reporter” is going to look into why
abortion rates is higher in the black community? That's a real race issue. Who
is going to have the audacity to report on crimes in the black community?
Crickets. Which one will examine democratic policies and the effects on the
black community? I bet they would if they were having a remarkable success. Or
they would do it if republicans were failing as miserably as they are there. We
need to stop being used and letting people tell us what to think and how to act.
They don’t care about us. They don't know us. They never really did. They just
know what we bought into and what has worked for the last 60 years. It’s time
we show them that the black community, is more than eating hot sauce, quoting a
spiritual and a Jay-Z concert. It is also more than voting for one party as
Biden seems to think. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Now, at this point you are
probably thinking, "Why make this political if you claim to be a
Christian?" Simple. In the name of politics an entire group of Americans
have been systemically oppressed by the democrats. No, I do not think republicans are blameless. They allowed the democrats to corner the market on
the black vote through their silence on black issues. The democrats managed to
advance the message that any other group than itself, is racist. Black
Republicans can't even speak. White ones are running scared. They won't even
talk about race for fear. Meanwhile, democrats abused, ignored, and exploited
the black community. They instituted the policies that have killed our children, robbed us of growth, wealth and success. I will not be quiet because this is a
political issue. It is a human issue. And these people owe us an apology for
treating us like a whole lot less. They should be ashamed to ask for our vote
despite failure, after failure, after failure. They should be ashamed to accuse
other whites of being racists despite their record on the issue. They should be
ashamed of pretending they understand blacks despite never addressing or
offering anything other than handouts in the decades they've had our votes.
They have no plan for us other than to keep us enslaved to their ideas. They
have gone after our preachers and into our houses of faith, and perverted the
only compass left among us. Our leaders have prostituted their positions for
their advancement. Therefore, I will not be silent in the face of such brazen
disregard for the soul of our community, and the cruel impacts their agenda has
had on it. They are the ones who owe us an apology. They need to repent for
continuing the evil handed down, and imposed upon our communities for a long
time. Eugenics. Stagnation. The criminal injustice system. Ghetto
confinement via poverty. This is their legacy. They shouldn't be asking for our
vote. They should be asking for our forgiveness. The scriptures teach God loves
justice. Theirs is coming. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">God wants more for the
black community. We matter greatly to Him. We are more. We can do, and be more.
We need to return to the only ruler who has ever cared for us. God. His Word
will never lead us wrong. Additionally, black Americans should get very
familiar with the constitution. Despite its reputation, it is for us. I’m not
the only one saying these things. People much smarter than I, are out there.
Listen to Thomas Sowell, Walter Williams, Larry Elder, Candace
Owens. Listen to other leaders like Voddie Baucham and more. Hear them out. You have nothing to lose. It’s unfortunate that
these voices are the ones dismissed. They are the ones that actually care. It’s
hard to hear the truth sometimes, but only the people who love you will dare
tell it to you in the way these people are doing. Resist the urge to think they
are talking down to you. They are not. They are talking up to you because they
believe you can understand. The ones selling you the same lines every election,
but making no difference are the ones talking down to you. They are confident
in your ignorance. That’s irreconcilably disrespectful. </span></div>
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<strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">UNITY</span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"></span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">The really neat thing about
all of this is, there are so many loving people in America. In the midst of
this mess we must push back against the harmful nonsense, and fight for each
other. I refuse to believe all white people are racist. To do that would be to
deny the strangers at the back of our neighborhood, who unprompted, offered me
the use of their property. I would have to deny one of the friendliest most
caring people I have ever met in my life, an officer who helped me at night in
the rain, the firemen who helped me change a tire, the one who wanted to
help me install a car seat. An older white man from Louisiana who told me the
secret to his gumbo recipe. These were all strangers. This list could go on for
a yard if I included all my friends. Let’s not let evil separate us. That is
the way it will conquer us.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Can this country stand to
improve? Yes. Let’s do it together. Let’s talk to people, not shout at them
and not shut them down. Any movement claiming that it is about equality, and
shutting any one group of people down is lying. It’s about supremacy. We solve
problems through unity and communication. Freedom pursues connections. It doesn't destroy them needlessly. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">I would further advise Americans,
black and white to consider that not everything is about you. We've been
engaged in the most self-absorbed discussion in our country. We have so
monopolized the conversation, that Americans of other cultures can't even
speak. "Racism" isn't all about you. Even the vilest of racism is at
the core not about you. Nor is the greatest injustice just about you. It can
affect you, but it is not about you. Evil just made you the excuse, the target,
and regret just made you responsible. But others exist. We must be moved
by love, and consideration for each other not anger, or pity. The ignorance and
guilt connected to those things wants to intimidate, and control us. Never let
that happen. No one gets to define us but God. Anyone of us can be a victim of
terrible things, hatred, rape, robbery, but we cannot allow it to make us its
victim forever. As painful as it is, we must find a way forward. Perhaps that’s
what Dr. King meant when he said, "If you fly then run, if can’t run, then
walk, if you can’t walk, then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep
moving forward." Love is the only way forward. Some of what’s
happening in our country is very backwards. Resist it. Reach out to other
people. It's easier to discriminate against whole groups of people when you
don't personally know or love anyone from that group. The more people you know
and love from that group, the harder it gets to disregard their collective
humanity.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">We need to learn to trust.
Expecting a white person to be racist because he is white is also racist. I’ve
been guilty of that. My past encounters shaped this few. In fact, I taught it
to my children. I wanted to protect them. Based on my experiences, I taught
them "to learn to appreciate the Klan member in the sheet. At least he’s being
honest. It’s the ones that act like your friends that are dangerous. Their
robes are better hidden." I see now that I was teaching them suspicion.
Essentially, "keep your discernment on a swivel around whites." I’ve
had my own growing to do. We are all broken and far from perfect.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">It’s God who makes the
difference. I tend not to trust people. He made it clear to me that He’s not
asking me to trust people. He’s asking me to trust Him, and to do what He says
regarding them. The reality of this freed me. I had so much distrust for
people, I had distrusted God who is faithful. That is the end result whenever
we handle matters this way. We have a choice. Wherever we put up walls to
reject pain, and stave off hurt, we hide it from God, from light. These hidden
areas are the darkness in us. They never bring life. If we are open to the
light, the truth, we begin to see so many instances aren’t even about race.
Some of them are ignorance cast as "racism." I have witnessed things
a black person have done, and shook my head in disbelief. If I can see it is
ridiculous, white people can see too. Ignorance is ignorance race aside. Let's
not apply intent where we are unaware of one. Nor, should we confuse how things
make us feel, with how we should forgive.</span></div>
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<strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">SUPER SIMPLE SOLUTIONS</span></strong><span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;"></span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">In the interest of healing,
I think we need to get involved in the lives of people who don’t look like us.
That might mean speaking to a neighbor, mentoring, or taking a dance class.
It's surprising the bonds we can form through activity. It might even mean
changing churches. There is no reason why the church should be segregated.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Find a cause in another
community that you can champion. Get behind it, and get to know people as you
do. Many of these things require little effort. They are things that we'd
naturally support.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">We don't need to expend our
energy fighting issues that aren't real. Many of the grievances I’m hearing, I
question and suspect that they are backdoors to invite chaos into our society.
They would lay great foundations for other types of government. Black Lives
Matter. Reparations. White Privilege. These are fronts, and excuses for other
systems of control. That might sound harsh, but if you look at the solutions to
these issues, you began to get an idea where advocates of "change" in
these areas want to take this country. Hint: It's not closer to freedom and
democracy. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Let's not join the masses
of those shouting rebellion and revolution. We know the real problem is good
and evil. We also know the real solutions. Fast, pray and tell of God's goodness. We cannot neglect those. Cry out for the repentance, revival and restoration of
man to his maker. The only sure way to end hatred is to introduce others to the love of God. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Talk openly with each
other. Risk the awkwardness and vulnerability. Prepare to be honest in those
conversations. Expect to be hurt by them, challenged by them, and patient in
them. You are going to hear some crazy things. You are going to hear the truth.
Don’t shut it down, even when painful. Truth is the only path forward.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Be courageous. Don't allow
the insanity to shut you down. Speak truth. This is a great country and
it can be greater, but it won't be if we tear it to pieces because it's not
perfect. If you can't be happy in American, and make it here, you won’t be
satisfied anywhere.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Let go. Don't allow the
weight of hate to pull you under. There is joy. Never let go of it. It is our
strength. Believers have the fruit God's Spirit. We are equipped to triumph of
the world, by overcoming evil with good.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Be courteous. The potential
of such simple decency is stunning and disarming. Have the same regard for
others. Don’t merely tolerate people. It shows. Be genuine. When you are in the
public do exactly what I see happening right now. Everyday people are a
little bit kinder. There seems to be a silent conversation, and apologies
passed among strangers in glances. We know this is crazy, and most of us don't
agree. </span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">Black American, calm down,
not everything is about race. White American, wake up, not everything isn’t. As
long as we are alive there will always be someone trying to put us in our place
to establish theirs. The harder we fight for each other, the less we'll have to
fight with each other.</span></div>
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<span face=""&quot" , serif" style="color: #2c3338;">After
all these words, there are till scrolls left unsaid, but it all can be summed up
in this: "Love your neighbor as yourself." Jesus- The only Justice. </span></div>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike></div>
shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-80953048786513925572020-05-16T10:01:00.000-07:002020-05-16T10:01:03.074-07:00<b></b>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Peace</b></div>
<b></b><br />
Greetings from my office- the back seat of our Honda Accord,
parked securely behind closed garage doors. It's a place where I can find the
peace, and quiet I crave. But even now if I strain my ears and listen intently, I can
hear the muffled conversation happening in my kitchen, just beyond
these walls. This is the audible evidence that my chosen sanctuary isn't
exactly failproof. Still, it is the better of my options in the hunt for tranquility.<br />
<br />
It made me wonder about you. Where are you finding peace
these days? I know very well peace isn't a location. It is a person. Jesus.
Here in my car, with the remains of a little Debbie's Raisin Cake scattered
conspicuously across my sweatshirt, He is my peace. There in my house with a little
one who believes that Saturday TV binges are an American child's first
amendment right, He is my peace. It doesn't matter that her sister and dad are
in the adjacent room working on a critical, legal document in volumes that competes with
the tv. It doesn't matter that I have 3 writing deadlines,
dishes and laundry piled high, a workout not done, and a mind not to do it, He is
my peace. It doesn’t matter that COVID-19 has brought the greatest country in
the world to its knees, and its economy- the trust of nations- to the brink of
ruins, He is my peace. My soul is well. Better than well. Untouchable.<br />
<br />
What matters more is, He can be your peace
too. He is not exclusive to me. He is for you, or anyone willing to try Him. Perhaps
you have a peace that gets you by. Is it enough? Can you trust it? I have found
no greater sanctuary than Jesus. He is always there. If today you are
struggling to find peace, now is a great time to seek and find it in Him. Pray
earnestly that He would reveal Himself to you. And if you are looking for
something to read, His book is great. It is enlightening, entertaining, and
filled with words and messages of peace and hope. So unlike my garage. I appreciate this
space of solitude, but<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just thought I’d
share with you where I find my true source of peace. Jesus. Nothing, and no-one else compares.<br />
shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-57425021407700729232020-04-24T08:32:00.001-07:002020-04-24T08:37:33.803-07:00<i></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>Secrets</i></b></div>
<b></b><i></i><br />
Some stories want to be told. They come pouring out effortlessly, and sometimes unexpectedly. Then there are others that as one friend told me, "you take to the grave."<br />
I've been thinking about that second class of secrets, the "take it to the gravers." I'm not sure I agree. I'm no advocate of broadcasting one's business, but perhaps there is one person, or maybe a few people with whom you could entrust your entire story. How tragic to leave this planet and no one knew you. I mean really knew you.<br />
<br />
I think of people who are diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Could you imagine keeping secrets and then not being able to control when they are told? Your disease decided it. Or what if you lost the ability to recall some memories again? I suppose it could be relative to the memory. Most wouldn't care about losing a terrible one. Those are the ones we want to forget. But even horrific memories have played a role in the shaping of who we are, and can transform those around us. Imagine if the Jews who suffered at the hands of Hitler never shared their stories. What if they chose to protect themselves from the pain and shame of those recollections? What if they chose to be viewed as strong rather than vulnerable or victims of the Nazis? What if Jesus suffered, but never shared the extent of His suffering? God in the hands of man. Talk about a story of humility. We don't naturally enjoy revealing the hardships and humiliating moments of our lives. Shared or not, these stories are as much a part of the shaping of who we are as anything else. My point is, suffering though by definition painful, isn't powerless or pointless. Victimization reveals vulnerability, but it doesn't negate hope or cancel victory. Often it produces it. Triumph has its roots in tragedy, so your narrative, no matter where it falls on the spectrum of good and bad has value. Even if not for you, the telling of your story might prevent a thousand disasters in the lives of those around you.<br />
<br />
I realize how scary this must sound. Weirder still, is that it is coming from me. Trust does not come easily to me. It is rather elusive actually. I have to know you, prove that you listen, and are loyal. It's about a two-decade process. Even then, that doesn't guarantee that I'll lay it all out for you, only that you'd be in the running if I ever decided to. Still, I can't help but wonder who is served by keeping anything a secret? It is the "why" behind the action that gives me pause and has me questioning Why do we keep secrets? Protection seems the obvious answer, but is it really protection? What and who are we guarding against? And what do we keep out, by keeping our guards so high? Perhaps we keep out judgment, and persecution as a result. But consider that we also keep out healing, health, and growth. Who is really served by protecting a secret? Further, there is some indication that the desire to self-protect might be driven by a weakness. That, I find unacceptable. Let's eliminate that. Actions from fear and weakness are no way to live.<br />
<br />
I understand that there are things you could only share with a select few. There may even be things that you can only share with one person. The point isn't that we walk around spewing our story like a Grimm's fairy tale, but that we share it.<b><i> A</i></b><b><i>ll</i></b> of it. The main reason is freedom. Whatever is hidden has power over you. You are a servant to it. It is the silent overseer deciding how you could act. Who you could be around. How much you can truly be loved. And isn't that the whole reason people hide secrets anyway? They want to protect the public view of themselves, an retain whatever value can be gained from that view. Love. Fear. Idolization. Respect. We have an internal evaluator ever asking, "How much would I be loved and accepted if these things are known of me?" How would people view me if they knew...?"<br />
Mostly we hide what we are or have done because we don't want others to know the "real us." It is too risky. It could be a potential impediment to them loving us. Respecting us. But the desire to hold onto social approval is a mighty snare, built on the fear of man. It is a weird sort of prison, one built by the hands of the captive to protect him from the thing he actually wants. Meaning we want love, so we don't disclose out of fear of rejection or a denial of love. But because we don't disclose, the attention and affections we receive are not real. They are not based on truth. They are for the person we pretend to be. They are not based on who we are, but who we are not, who we purport to be. We are then forced to stay in that prison, because we have built an image on falsehood. Even under the best of circumstances when we play the part well, when everyone believes the lie of the image we present, there is no real peace in the love and respect garnered there. Instead there is conflict because we know the truth. Still, we must maintain the image to maintain the acceptance. This is the broad ramifications of secrets. They change you. They imprison you. They make you become something you are not to protect the thing that you actually are, have done, or want.<br />
<br />
Many of us aren't completely fake. We just have a few things we'd like to keep to ourselves. I think that's the problem. That thing is "keeping us to ourselves." It hinders us from being a light to another. From being seen. It keeps us closed off. Greater still it hinders us from the free flow of the divine work in us. Primarily because the power of someone's life relates heavily to what they have been able to overcome, learn from, and celebrate as a result of their journey. It is the story of what God has brought them through, is bringing them through, and allowing them to keep surviving. Maturity, and growth is revealed in the things we have been able to honestly overcome. It is also the thing that is most attractive about us. Do you think anyone wants to hear about overcoming alcoholism from a person who has never had a drink? No. We want that story from the horse's mouth. Suffered abuse? Guess who you will be more likely to reach, or relate to? An abuse victim. Point is, often the things we are trying to hide or protect in us or about us, is the potential light in us. It will be the thing that draws others to us, to God, to freedom. Don't hide it under a bushel or a of basket of fear.<br />
<br />
<msreadoutspan class="msreadout-line-highlight msreadout-inactive-highlight"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><i>The "what" in our story is important, because it highlights the "who." What we overcame shines a light on "how" we did so. Specifically, "who" helped us. To downplay the "what" in our story is to undercut the "who" and the power of "how" they helped us.</i></b></span><u><sub><sup><strike><br /></strike></sup></sub></u></msreadoutspan><br />
<msreadoutspan class="msreadout-line-highlight msreadout-inactive-highlight"><b></b><i></i><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"></span><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"></span><br /></msreadoutspan>
<msreadoutspan class="msreadout-line-highlight msreadout-inactive-highlight">Earlier I mentioned weakness as a reason we don't share. I don't mean to sound cruel, but often it is. We are too easily shaped by the opinions and applause of others. If our junk risks those most valued things then we clam up. We so esteem the thoughts of others, that we treasure their opinions above wholeness. Above God's glory. It is a very sad and apologetic sort of life. The careful covering of secrets is a constant reminder of not being worthy enough, a continuous apology for, and an acknowledgement of not being up to some perceived level. It also screams unforgiveness. It is unforgiveness of someone or of ourselves, because when you are free of a thing, you don't need to guard it or treat it with such high regard. You are free to share it and shout it from rooftops. You overcame it. It doesn't have any control over you. You control it. It is a thing of your past, something that you've moved beyond, like 80's perm and big hair. You don't tip toe around it. You talk about it. You are bold with the truth, and the "secret" becomes a strength. It does your <msreadoutspan class="msreadout-line-highlight msreadout-inactive-highlight"><msreadoutspan class="msreadout-word-highlight">bidding</msreadoutspan>. Not the other way around.</msreadoutspan></msreadoutspan><br />
<br />
Still, the biggest drawback to secrets is living a lie. You end up losing out on purpose because of them. It is an impossibility and a fruitless effort to spend your life attempting to satisfy everyone else's expectations. The end result is you'll live below what you could have been. Is that thing worth it? What are you hiding? Who are you protecting? Why? Consider how it's controlling you? Let the light in. Take a risk. Expose the darkness to someone you trust. Allow real love to enter, and give the light of your story a chance to shine. Then, and only then can you be free. Truth alone, liberates the soul.shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-72527832340041404602020-04-10T17:28:00.000-07:002020-04-10T17:28:31.427-07:00<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Accused an Punished For Me</span></b></div>
<b></b><br />
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2wB_LPcD34" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2wB_LPcD34</a><br />
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<b>
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I was a voice in that crowd.<br />
My actions screamed consent.<br />
Loud. Bold. I was proud.<br />
Calling back in time,<br />
Crucify Him! Crucify Him! CRUCIFY HIM!</div>
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I chose Barabbas that day.<br />
Rebellion no stranger to me.<br />
Defiant. Brazen. Pride exalted.<br />
I yelled approval for evil above the masses,<br />
I choose sin! I choose sin. I CHOOSE SIN!</div>
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He was silent that day for me.<br />
The Word, His words births galaxies,<br />
Wrecks enemies.<br />
Defending Himself would render me guilty.<br />
Love was silent that day for me.<br />
His silence was for me.<br />
His silence set me free.</div>
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He was accused and punished for me<br />
Lies aimed at the flawless.<br />
Hatred in my heart.<br />
I wielded the whip of brutality<br />
With precision and skill<br />
A thirst for pain. A hunger to kill.</div>
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My guilt was the force behind the nails.<br />
His blood on my hands.<br />
Ungrateful. Violent. Dishonest.<br />
I chose acceptance over righteousness.<br />
I offered Him no comfort in His suffering.<br />
Innocence was rejected by me.<br />
Insulted by me. I denied by me. Betrayed by me.</div>
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I was dead.<br />
And in my condemned state<br />
Satan held my proxy.<br />
I jeered. I mocked.<br />
I belittled love in the process of saving my life!</div>
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Still, He remained faithful to His goodness.<br />
He laid aside purity, nobility and ability.<br />
Endured the cross. Disregarded shame.<br />
Embodied humility.<br />
Eyes fixed on joy to come.<br />
The author and finisher of faith.<br />
Delivered the hope of glory.</div>
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He gave justice all it demanded.<br />
His punishment the total price of my innocence.<br />
Mercy and grace flowed from the veins of the blameless.<br />
His blood is life! The rescue of my soul.<br />
I was blind. I was His enemy<br />
He pardoned my treachery. My ignorance. My hypocrisy<br />
Absolved by the divine<br />
Made new by the immaculate. A matchless lamb.<br />
The ultimate servant. An unconquerable king.</div>
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It's not by works that I have done.<br />
I am the best of the Pharisees<br />
Supposing if Jesus were here today,<br />
I'd offer dissent to injustice.<br />
I'd be a voice for Him.</div>
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He is here today. Here now.<br />
How often I fail to speak. To stand.<br />
Instead, seizing every opportunity to advance my temporal kingdom,<br />
Except the gift provides the courage, and the Spirit provides wisdom-<br />
I fail disastrously. Grievously. Thoroughly.<br />
Always!</div>
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I stood convicted in a sea of souls.<br />
God stepped in front for me.<br />
I am the fruit of the grisly cross.<br />
He bore the guilt. I was lost.<br />
Time and distance made my deeds no less<br />
Sinners and soldiers are the same.<br />
My actions gave evil its cause,<br />
His actions gave me His name.<br />
He became that vile thing I was proven to be.<br />
I was the sin. Now I am free.<br />
He was accused and punished for me.</div>
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shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-51334080075367847762020-04-09T05:21:00.002-07:002020-04-09T05:21:26.526-07:00<div style="text-align: center;">
Hot dog or Hot dog sandwich?</div>
<br />
My husband is Mr. easy. He's generally accepting and rarely critical. However I can earn his immediate rebuke with three words, "hot dog Sandwich." He insist that a "hot dog" is not a sandwich and persistence in calling it one does not actually make it so. I fundamentally disagree. Anything, between two things is by definition, a SANDWICH!!! Enter our household, and the great debate.<br />
<br />
To settle this matter, I did what folks of our era do, I took it to Google. Imagine my shock to find that this topic has been discussed for quite sometime. So intense are the opinions, that the National Hot Dog and Sausage Counsel was asked to officially rule on the matter. Yes, there is such a thing. I'll save you the search. My husband is clearly running that counsel, because they got it wrong. They said it's a hot dog. Thankfully, my guy isn't aware of the official ruling, nor have I shared it with him. I'm rather fond of peace, and I prefer my environment gloat free.<br />
<br />
Settle this for us. What say ye? A "hot dog," or a<b><i> "hot dog sandwich?"</i></b> Hint: correct answer written in bold.shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-21846443196230917432020-04-03T14:35:00.002-07:002020-04-05T14:38:59.454-07:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"Auto-incorrect."</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
I have memory issues, primarily where names are concerned. To compensate for this, my brain overrides logic, common sense, and the truth with a peculiar habit. Whenever someone new introduces themselves, and I forget their name, my brain replaces their actual name with a handle of its choice. One that it ultimately decide fits that person best.<br />
"Sure you told me your name was Judy five times. But we're still gonna call you Laura. You look more like a Laura." It's rather embarrassing. It comes off as uncaring.<br />
<br />
I suspect that somewhere in my head there is an index of faces. When I meet someone, my mind involuntarily races through those files to see if this stranger's face matches its idea of the name. If it determines it does not, it automatically renames the person.<br />
"You don't look like a Paul. You look more like a Jason, that's what we'll call you from now on. Poor "<i>Jason</i>" then has to remind me repeatedly of his actual name to retrain my thinking.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
It gets worse. If I meet someone with the name of a person I previously knew, the new person will likely have to have a hint of the familiar, inexplicable characteristics I've come to associate with that name. It's an easier mental transition. Otherwise it throws me off. So, if I knew a Susan who was blond, short, and overweight, and you happen to be a Susan who is tall, black and fit, That's probably not gonna go well. I'll just call you "Tina."<br />
Once, I met two ladies in a new group. We'll call them Jill and Sophie. Unfortunately, I had previously known both a Jill and a Sophie. The Jill from the new group looked and acted more like the Sophie from the old group. Likewise, the Sophie from the new group looked, and acted more like the Jill from the old group. I switched their names immediately. I called Jill Sophie and Sophie Jill based solely on my past experiences with those names. Both assume I was struggling to keep their names straight. Nope! I was struggling to keep their identities separate from the identities of the people I knew with those names prior to meeting them.<br />
Since I'm confessing, I might as well also tell you I have come to dislike certain names based on previous interactions with people of those names.<br />
If your name is Lynden, I apologize in advance. It's gonna be a struggle to give you the benefit of the doubt. On the whole. I love the names Tina, Joan, Danielle, Crystal, Sarah, etc. They have been associated with good people in my life.</div>
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By now you are probably seeing this for the utter foolishness it is. Assessing people based on their names is about as deep as water in a saucer. The same can be said of the assumptions we make of people before getting to know them. We distrust folks because they might look a certain way, be of a different economic status, size, beauty, culture or color. We assume and presume we know who they are. We assert our presumptions and assumptions as their identity. It's sad, and harmful. We need to let the actions of individuals speak for themselves.<br />
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Even when actions do speak, don't conclude to know a person based on a few actions or interactions. I remember being nervous in situations, and acting like an utter buffoon because of it. Judge me in those moments, and you'd be wrong, because you didn't actually see the real me. I'm just saying give folks more of a chance than google gives us when filling in a search. Don't assume because we see how someone began, we know where they are going, and we automatically know how they will end. Interactions with humans requires patience. That is why God is patient with us. It is why patience is a fruit or manifestation of the Spirit. We need it in order to survive each other. While we are on the topic of fruit, the bible says you'll "know them by their fruits." Please allow people to produce a couple before you judge resolutely. Don't assume you are automatically correct. You might just be "auto-incorrect."<br />
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Often, while I'm typing something into a search engine, and before I've even entered a complete word, there are already suggestions about where I should go. Sometimes I follow them, even though they had nothing to do with why I originally came. I set purpose aside, and rabbit trail. The very prompt of a new idea, causes me to entertain a new course. Changing the search, changes the mission.<br />
A similar thing happens when my phone autocorrects a word. The meaning shifts, as does the weight, and emotion behind the message. This is why we must guard our input into the lives of others. Don't suggest an identity for folks that's not theirs. Don't call them anything that God hasn't. Don't be a part of misleading them down paths they never intended to go. Don't be a catalyst to their wandering or shift. Perhaps you are thinking, "What does this have to do with me? These things are entirely up to the individual." I agree. Somewhat.<br />
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Studies have shown that speaking over plants positively, or negatively impacts their growth. The same is true of humans. Words give or take life. Be careful with the ones you use. Have a pure heart, and only speak the truth in love when you speak into the hearts and lives of people. It takes a lot of time and energy to live independent of the labels we are assigned. "The wise one. The pretty one. The strong one. The funny one. The smart one." I think we do this because it is easy. Unfortunately, it is the laziest approach to "knowing" someone. Assessing only by the eyes, and what is obvious is a disservice. It requires no significant investment of effort, time, love or patience. Even when what we see is true, "the creative one" is creative, "the angry one" is angry, there is still so much more we do not see.<br />
And, what we are seeing is actually the end result of what we can't see. The heart. The visual is the most elementary step into relationship. Go beyond it. When Jesus said "you will know them by their fruit," He said so because He was telling us to use the fruit to determine the nature of the tree. He didn't say it because the fruit was<i> all</i> he wanted us to see. He simply wanted us to know the source of the fruit, <b><i>the tree. </i></b><br />
The fruit is the end result of the planted seed. Much like the heart, the seed is overshadowed by what grows out of it. It's hard to see the origins of either, but major disruptions result above the surface of the ground in which the seed is planted, and the heart in which words take root. Much like seeds, we have a heart that produces outwardly. They earn us the labels. And even when those labels are all true, there is still an origin, a root cause that often goes unnoticed. I'm saying, notice. Sure, look at the fruit, but realize you aren't looking at the fruit to stay there. Look closer. You are looking at the fruit to make an assessment of the tree. Where did it come from? It's the why, and the rest of the story behind the fruit you do see. Don't focus exclusively on the end product, shift your gaze, and prayer to what's behind it. Our problem isn't the fruit as conveniently as it is to be seen, and blamed. It is the seed, the tree it produced as a result. Use the fruit to<b><i> know</i></b> the tree.<br />
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At the very least, we can learn to appreciate others in a more well rounded way. Let's go a little deeper than the surface. That "quiet one" might be quiet, or "the confident one" might be confident, but that's probably not all they are. They may shock you with who they really are, if given a chance to finish their search, and show you.<br />
We are all the wisdom of God and a work in progress. Let's appreciate those things we see in others, but let's just wait to see what else the creator is doing in their lives, and hearts. He refines and defines. Our role is simply to agree with perfection. Let's not hold our opinions about His work, higher than the truth of His power to transform. Instead of locking others into a label, or assigning titles<msreadoutspan class="msreadout-line-highlight msreadout-inactive-highlight">, just call them by their names. Hopefully, you remember what it i<msreadoutspan class="msreadout-word-highlight">s</msreadoutspan>. </msreadoutspan></div>
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</b>shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-42215176093715771462020-03-28T19:49:00.001-07:002021-06-01T20:45:20.319-07:00<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #2c3338; font-family: &quot; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: inherit; margin-bottom: 24px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 24px; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<b>It Came to Pass...</b></div>
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I've never been fond of team sports. Too much is beyond my control. The one sport I did participate in- track and field- was what I consider an "individual team sport." Though part of a whole, my races were solo. Even in team efforts like relays, my splits could be timed. The weakest link could easily be uncovered. I wouldn't say I'm competitive, but if you score a victory over me, believe me you earned it. I'm not giving it to you. You <b><i>will</i></b> work for it.</div>
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Consider it a kindness. I'm doing you a favor, making you better. There is no honor in defeating an unworthy opponent. I want you at your best. I'm going to give you my best as a teammate, and as a rival. As a competitor, I want to dethrone a king. Otherwise, the win is a shallow one. Beating someone of inferior skills is a yawn. Either win like a champion, or lose as a warrior, but give it your best.<br />
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I've learned that not everyone shares, or appreciates this frame of mind. It has been the main reason I dislike competing as part of a team. I'm committed to giving my all. If I see you working half-heartedly, that's gonna be a problem for me. Those people who say, "we'll do better next time" are my natural <strike>enemies</strike> opposites. There is no next time. There's only today. No regrets. Leave it all on the floor. Die there if you have to. This is my mentality. </div>
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Now imagine my utter shock upon discovering that I had managed to produce a child whose philosophy is "it's ok. You don't have to win. That's not the most important thing. You tried, and you had a good time, that's all that matters..." </div>
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Say what now? That's a lie from her father's side of the gene pool. We play to win!</div>
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Despite this, my rebel offspring has taught me a few things. There is a certain leadership quality in losing. There is a strength and dignity in it. Obviously, there's ample opportunity for humility and growth in it. These are invaluable qualities. We don’t applaud losers in sports, but maybe we should reevaluate that practice in life. It takes a ton of strength to fail, and keep trying. I've come to appreciate, and even respect it. It's a fighter's spirit.<br />
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A few weeks ago, I was at a low point. Hormones did not help. I was in tears over something trivial. In the midst of that, this question came to mind:<br />
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<i><b>"Why are you crying over circumstances that will change?"</b></i> </div>
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As I pondered the question the power of it hit me. Despite the way they may feel, my circumstances are never eternal. They are temporary. I always survive them. So, why assign them such power? A phrase followed the thought. "It came to pass.."</div>
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I could bore you to tears listing all of the times those words are mentioned in the Bible. I know what it means. It's like saying, "after a while..." But a more literal interpretation of it is what stayed with me. It came, to pass- as in this situation came, just to make an exit. Much like a hurricane it can be fierce, but then it's going to blow on out. It's not here to stay. It came to pass by. It will be gone soon. And there I was, shedding tears over something that didn't come to linger, something that couldn't out live or outlast me. Unless I gave it power, it would be gone and forgotten soon enough. Looking at it in that way, the emotions seemed a bit ridiculous. </div>
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Now, why am I telling you all of this? I think too many times we portray ourselves as masters of our domain when nothing could be further from the truth. We are more like disasters of our domain, or survivors of it. We all have a mentality, and an image we tend to project, protect or live by. But sometimes the image doesn't work. The mentality fails. It leaves us feeling lost. Unstable. I want you to know that it is perfectly okay to be a nightmare on legs. You don't always have to be in control. In fact, that's the exact recipe for disaster. You won't always win at everything. That's okay too. You can acknowledge your shortcomings, while still holding on to hope. Know that you won't always fail, be down, depressed or discouraged. Those moments came to pass. What's more, circumstances don't dictate the joy in your life.<br />
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In the fitness world much is made of cross-training. It is the practice of adding variety to your workout program. You work your muscles in a way that is different, but complimentary to your normal routine. The goal is to eliminate muscle imbalances, by diversifying your training. This will vary depending on your sport. A biker or runner might take up swimming to avoid having strong legs, and a weak upper body. They are still training, still working hard, and still earning the results. They are just doing it in a different way. Working from a different angle. It makes them stronger in their preferred sport.<br />
Failure is the cross-training of life. Often we are so fixated on traditional and societal ideas of success, we neglect to see the opportunity in it. Failure is not the way we ever expect to prepare to win, but it is vital training nonetheless. It is simply training from another angle. When it is over, we will return to our pursuits, visions, and dreams stronger, and more courageous because of it.<br />
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The next time you are faced with failure, see it as more than an enemy, it can be an accessory. If it has to happen to you, make it work for you. Remember one day it will in fact pass. In the meantime, there are good things happening in you, around you, and on your behalf. That's not wishful thinking. It is my faith in God for you. He makes <em><strong>no </strong></em>mistakes. If you are still here, it is because the flawless wisdom of God has decided it, and makes it so. If you are winning at life right now, great! But if you happen to be struggling, don't lose heart, or hope. Change is coming. These moments are just that, moments. Don't let them become the whole story. They came to pass. Don't make hasty decisions based on them, and cause them to hang around longer. Don't allow them to be a bigger part of your story than necessary. Use them to cross train, and move on.<br />
Keep fighting, but know that if you don't win, it's truly ok. Consider it a part of your fitness routine. Surviving losses, and failures is a victory of its own. </div>
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<i><span style="color: #005500;"> </span><span style="color: red;">*For the sake of my reputation, this post will self-destruct... </span></i></div>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-28576644490056130912020-03-18T08:15:00.000-07:002020-03-19T13:58:38.605-07:00<div style="text-align: center;">
Braving COVID-19"</div>
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I<b><i><span style="color: #cc0000;"> hate</span></i></b> the circumstances, but I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't appreciate the break. I'd rather we had a global pause due to celebration, and without the sickness, sadness, dying, or the death part. But the precautions, and panic related to COVID-19 has allowed time to reflect. The following are my random thoughts as a result:<br />
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<li>Confession: Prior to social distancing, I was already socially distant. It wasn't exactly my proximity. It was my inability to really connect with people. This was based on many factors. My schedule was one of them. Even when I was among people, I wasn't with people. My mind was always on the next thing. Distant. Don't be that person. Be engaged exactly where you are. *<i>Some might say that this description fits being relationally distant. I'll bite. But it is my opinion and experience that those two things relate.</i></li>
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<li>Introverts everywhere are happy to their souls. They are living their very best lives right now. Leave them alone, but please reach out to all the extroverts you know. They could use some "extra" support and attention. </li>
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<li>Due to this pandemic America has an opportunity to try homeschooling. This will either cause people to respect homeschooling folks who remain sane, or it will further cement the idea that we are lunatics. There will be no in between. I just like that it is an opportunity to explore ideas, and seek understanding. This opportunity is not exclusive to homeschooling. The same can be said of politics, religion, and social issues. We are divided nation. Each side disqualifying the other, and dismissing the wisdom and brilliant minds on the opposing side. It's hard to build a greater country if we are busy tearing each other down. After all, a country is built on the ideas, and ideals accepted, and acted upon by its people. I'm not telling you to enter a political discussion with anyone, but on your own, you could explore<i><b> why</b> </i>they might feel the way they do. Listen to what they might listen to. Don't worry. It's not contagious. Unlike COVID-19, you won't catch it.</li>
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<li>There is no longer an excuse to ignore the massive dust bunnies under the couch, or the crumbs in it. Nothing stands between you, and decluttering that draw or closet other than the will to do it. If you are like me -with clothing decades old- it's time. </li>
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<li>Speaking of clothing, the reason some of my "classic pieces" are still hanging around is because I was determined "one day they'd fit. One day" is today. Now, is a good time to begin making decisions to cause your clothes to fit. How are you doing with that New Year's resolution regarding weight loss/health? Revisit it. You don't need to be indoors eating all day. Crawl out of that sack of whatever you hoarded, and are eating uncontrollably, and get active. Turn off the screen and take a hike. Literally. Walk. Run. Bike. Jump rope. Rollerblade. Whatever. There are restrictions on gatherings, not exercise. Get some...and make healthy choices that support it.</li>
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<li>This is an excellent time for relationship building. Don't shoot. Some of you are stuck indoors with the people who mean the most to you, but they are mean to you. They drive you crazy, and assuming you prioritized well, you bought alcohol to cope with being locked in with them. Don't drink it. We are making healthy choices here remember? I realize this might be difficult. Some family members are so different, we'd never be around those people if God didn't see fit to make them related by blood. Perhaps they are so draining, it is your normal practice to deliberately put "social distance" between you and them. Your<strike> "meanager"</strike> teenager, your spouse, mother in law, etc. Point is, now is an excellent time to take a step closer to them. Spend some time listening to them. Have that conversation you hate having. Again. Listen this time.<b><i> Really</i></b>, listen to them. Don't assume you are right, and if you are, don't assume they are your enemies. Consider that this person loves you. Obviously, I'm not talking about relationships that are unhealthy, and require healthy distance. I'm talking about ones that are weird, strained, awkward, but still repairable. Perhaps you do have a few relationships that are severed that need to be looked at. Just make sure you are not harboring bitterness. Be willing to see your part in any relational war, or walk away from battles that are not yours to fight.</li>
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<li>Connect. Get to know someone in your community. It may not be as scary as knocking on your neighbor's door. You could do that, but COVID-19 panic is real. You don't have to risk the door being slammed in your face. Just go outside and wait. If you lurk outdoors for a while, cabin fever will flush your neighbors out. They are desperate enough to be outdoors welcoming vitamin D. Now is an excellent time to meet them. Find out their names, and begin a relationship, or at least greet them. That's a start. It's better than doing that thing that you guys do where you pretend you don't see each other driving by in a whole car!</li>
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<li>Reflect on yourself. Where are you in life? Are you prioritizing the right things? Are you genuine, and honest to your core? Is that hairstyle really working for you? Was that joke really funny, or was that more of a nervous laugh? Is this who you are, how you want to portray yourself? Frazzled, frumpy mom, super trendy, and edgy. Are you downplaying you, or are you "up-playing" you to fit in/belong? You don't have to ask deep questions. Just take some time to connect with the person God intended you to be. If you don't already know, begin to discover who that is. Speaking of God...</li>
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<li>Consider faith. Nothing reminds us of our humanity like a massive disaster, or say a pandemic. Put real thought into faith. What do<b><i> you</i></b> believe? Often, we adopt ideas, and beliefs that sound good, well argued, or constructed, but in many cases, they are the opinions of other people. What are yours? There is no substitute for your own genuine study, and honest seeking. Do it. You don't want to be wrong about the right thing. Be sure you are correct or at least confident in your conclusion. We call that faith. Pray. Talk to God. Ask Him about it. I can tell you He answers, even those who feel like they don't deserve it. From my experience, I'd say especially "those." The big point is, you don't want to be wrong on something so huge.</li>
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<li>This is an excellent time to catch up on reading. Not skimming. Reading. Otherwise, get rid of all those books, and materials you have been stockpiling for the apocalypse. This is as close to one as we have come in modern times. If you are not reading now, be honest. It's never going to happen. That said, this is also a good time to stop reading. Bookworms, I'm looking at you. Go be active. Go do something you have been reading about.</li>
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<li>Create. Explore that hobby you have been too busy, intimidated, overwhelmed, insecure or fearful to try. Draw, paint, sew, bake, build a website, plan a party (for when the quarantine ends) organize your photos, scrapbook, mentor, etc. Or Be realistic. You can't sing, so no need to send in an audition clip to a talent show, unless rejection gets you high, or you just want to be able to say you did it. Also, be unrealistic. Do a bucket list thing that you have been putting off. Or, at least begin seriously thinking through it, how and when it can be done. </li>
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<li>Invest. Financially, emotionally, spiritually. Wherever you want to see a return in life, invest there. This is an excellent time to pour into someone or something. Look for a person/s or a cause around you to be generous to. Offer them/it your time, talents, gifts, abilities, connections, and resources.</li>
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<li>If you love someone let them know. Give hugs. Pet your animals, or take in a shelter pet. It is always a good time to love someone or something. Love is brightest, when the world is darkest. It's definitely gloomy right now.</li>
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<li>Rest. Contrary to the laundry list of things I've posted "to do" it's okay to rest. Your body, and your mind needs it. Do something, or nothing, but rest. I'm not talking about laziness, but schedule yourself a time to rest. When the rest is over, it will likely give you the clarity to work wisely.</li>
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This is not a comprehensive list. Currently these are the big ones for me. They are not in order of importance. Your list might look differently than mine, but make one. Just tackling laundry might be a triumph for you, or being shut in and not murdering anyone might be your thing. The point is, if you are healthy, that's a blessing. Put this time to good use. Make it work for you. If not, it will be a missed opportunity. </div>
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I want you to emerge from COVID 19 healthier, and better than when you went in. That is my goal. Whether it's a grand transformation, or just a small change, I want to be better. I hope you are, and remain well in every way. I'd love to hear what you are focusing on at this time. Leave a comment below. </div>
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<br />shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-67117074964130663152020-02-15T19:03:00.001-08:002020-07-25T04:08:49.419-07:00<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b>Love and Something Unlike it</b></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;">
</span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><b></b><br /></span><span lang="EN" style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Some
topics are above my pedigree. On those matters, I'm slow in thought. I'd like
to be slower to speak. With another Valentine's Day behind me, I've been
reflecting on love. I cautiously offer my sluggish opinions.</span><br />
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All things considered; love is<b><i> still</i></b> the greatest power ever
known. Unfortunately, it is also the most abused, misused, and misunderstood.
I'm not claiming guru status here. I don't have the answers. I am merely an
observer. Life has taught me that man has no real idea what love is. Sure, he comes
close to it. He even has a wildly pleasant form of it, but real love escapes
him. Should he manage to find it, he doesn't dwell in it. How's that for
positivity?<br />
<br />
When asked what's the greatest commandment. Jesus said, "love the Lord
your God with all your heart soul, strength and mind." In revealing what
the greatest commandment is, He <b><i>also </i></b>revealed what love
looks like. He paints this picture of the all-encompassing. Love is the
offering of everything you have.<br />
</span><br />
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My husband is "Mr. Easy." He is a relaxed guy. He is also organized
and orderly, yet he accepts my general messiness. He does laundry, cooks, clean,
takes care of children and pets. The guy can almost do no wrong. Except he
does. They are often little things. An occasional dirty dish left outside its habitat. His lunch container, on the counter. Mostly, he fails in observing
certain laws of the household as set by me. No jackets on the backs of dining
room chairs. No electronic devices on the dining room table. No shoes on the
carpet. I was furiously cleaning up after him one day, when the true source of my
anger was uncovered. "You want love, but you don't want to
sacrifice." Ouch! It stung. I assumed myself more mature. I was not.</div>
<br />
Love without sacrifice. Is that even possible? It became clear to me,
that I wanted all of the benefits of love, but I wanted it without any personal
change to me, or to what was comfortable to me. Unfortunately, this is what
love looks like to many. We add people to our world/lives, without expecting them to
affect or impact it in any real way. Nor do we anticipate well, or welcome the
changes they bring to it from theirs.<br />
<br />
Many, more mature than I, do anticipate those changes. They are willing to make
certain sacrifices, but more often their adjustments look like concessions, and
compromises rather than total surrender. The question remains. What is love
without sacrifice? I believe that the extent to which we are willing to
magnanimously sacrifice, is the extent to which we love.<br />
<br />
This is why the love of God is so astounding. Some have deemed it
"reckless." It certainly looks that way when compared to ours. But
that's not fair. We are not the bar. Therefore, comparison isn't a real one. It
shouldn't be used to assign a label or draw a conclusion. God and man are unequal.
Purity compared to the impure is like comparing Monopoly money to actual money.
It is actually more like life and light, compared to death and darkness. In
most circumstances, and without discussion, we'd dismiss the fake thing
altogether. It's not worthy of conversation, much less comparison.<br />
Perfection is the only true standard. God is Love. Love is who He is. He is the
whole reason we love at all. Anything we know of love we have learned from Him.
He taught us that love requires selflessness. It is this total selflessness
that earned Him the label "reckless." Real and true is a more
accurate description. Otherwise everything about Him is "reckless,"
grace, forgiveness, all. And that raises so many questions. Let's just leave
all of it alone. Let's agree that whatever God has given man, He gave it
extravagantly. Whether peace, or love, joy, hope, and more, His generosity
in all, is astonishing. It is this willingness to give so much that draws us to
Him. He has taught us the that love requires something of us. It requires a
sacrifice, an offering. His was phenomenal. His sacrifice wasn't large.
It was everything.<br />
<br />
Sacrifices are necessary to love, but not all are equal. It is possible to
sacrifice begrudgingly. That sort can come dressed nicely, but it reeks of control,
and power. "Look at what I have done for you. Do you see how good I am? How
patiently I endure you. You owe me something, for my pains." Though never
spoken, those thoughts can be held, communicated via deeds, and acted upon by a
love that is less than. This is often where humans love from. It is love that
keeps score. It keeps a record of wrongs, by sometimes keeping a record of rights.
"I have done X, Y, Z." The end result is the same. It is used to
convict that debtor of wrong, hold him hostage, or keep him in bondage.<br />
<br />
Further, we often love from a position of weakness. "I need you therefore
I love you." That's the theme in just about every romance film. Some guy
is hopelessly in love with a beautiful girl. He pursues her. Some girl is
rescued from trying circumstances, by one who will make her life better,
forever. We celebrate this sort of love. I wonder about it. If the one who had
something to gain, were not in that vulnerable position, would the love be so
consuming? Would that heart so willingly "fall?" Side note: I'm leery
of "fallen" anything. Fallen hearts. Fallen people. Fallen trees.
Just falling in general. I digress. My point is, if she wasn't beautiful, he
didn't need her, and she didn't enhance his life in anyway, would the love be
there? If he wasn't the prince, and couldn't rescue her, would she be content
with him? All indications are that real love is most clearly revealed when it is
extended to the unworthy. The undeserving. The love we read about often makes
people worthy by, wealth, beauty or by character. Something redeemable exist.
Love for the all-around ugly is a rare, and elusive thing. There is zero
benefit in it to the one who has better options.<br />
<br />
Far be it from me to mock attraction, or needing someone. But I do think the
desperation that we crave in love, is sometimes tied to an inexplainable core
need. Often it expresses itself in a certain sort of selfishness. We think
sentiments about being unable to "live without" a person is cute, or
even romantic. We assume they show devotion, and oneness. I think it reveals
the root of a love that is driven by personal satisfaction. Isn't that truly a
fulfilment issue?<br />
On the flipside, there are those who seek to be someone's
"everything." They want to be the center of another person's world.
There is selfishness in that too. We want another human's wellbeing connected
to ours, and seeking ours. There's a word for that. Worship. We want to know
that someone cannot live without us. They need us. Think about that. "I
cannot live without you." That is "love" that literally
restricts life. That's control, and that type of love brings bondage. That's
exactly what love from a place of desperation looks like. One or both
parties are deriving some benefit related to fulfillment from it. It is
not healthy. It is a poor substitute for what we actually want, real love. It
does exist.<br />
<br />
I reluctantly admit that the fairytales also offer a glimpse of genuine love. It's wrapped so tightly in a blanket of baloney, blink, and you'll miss
it. But wade through the general superficial elements in these stories, and you
have a kernel of truth related to real love told over and over again. It is
tied to who the prince is. He represents power. That is love from the position
of strength. The prince does not need the maiden. He is by all means self-sufficient.
He faithfully loves one who can in no way benefit him. She is only a part of
the story because he has made her worthy. That's a clue. True love always steps
down to draw others up. It is humble, patient, kind and considerate. It is only
ever pure. On some levels we understand this. We marvel and measure the depth
of love by how low a person is willing to go for it. This is key to love from a
position of strength, and it is superior to love from desperation. One is true
and noble, the other can be tainted by need, a lack of contentment and perhaps
even greed. "I don't need you; but I choose you." That is superior
to, "I desperately need you, I can't live without you so I choose
you."<br />
<br />
I'm not trying to trash human love. Nor am I saying that need is wrong. It just
occurs to me that one is greater. It reminds me of when Jesus said, "it
is more blessed to give than to receive. Both are blessed. One simply offers
more blessings than the other. Love from need, can be love. Love from choice is
a grander thing is the point. That is God's love, a choice on the part of
perfection. Man's love is not complete. It has room to be informed, and
therefore transformed. Through humility and obedience, it becomes a more
"reckless" thing.<br />
<br />
I remain as I began, with thoughts beyond me. I'm attempting to
communicate the divine. God alone knows love. He loves from a position of total
strength, without need for us, but with absolute consideration of us. He alone
enables us to love in this manner. Anything calling itself love, but not resembling His, is a work in progress at best, or a true counterfeit. It is plagued with
fulfillment issues. Oh, it can feel good. It may even provide a measure of
comfort, but it has limits. Testing quickly reveals it is not the all-powerful
thing it purports to be. It is my great hope that one day we all know well,
love unrestrained<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-69370415949876240392020-02-08T06:10:00.000-08:002020-02-08T06:10:14.749-08:00<div style="color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Keto Cheeto</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Over the years my weight has fluctuated. Thankfully, my metabolism is somewhat high. At forty plus, I'm still close to my high school weight. I suspect that the boost in my metabolism won't last f</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6PaU8pFuHslrs5IP7i61LNafh9Qq6cLboGtGGjCLoe4pjlIacECVz4gfVA25Q8DixhHDGQd2LOqtPl4R2kId07rjzPeLylVx_QbxbdzzXd8MFmycDP_RL0HxJ0Brkj1p6T8Fl58BaCJR/s1600/20200126_175502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: &quot; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6PaU8pFuHslrs5IP7i61LNafh9Qq6cLboGtGGjCLoe4pjlIacECVz4gfVA25Q8DixhHDGQd2LOqtPl4R2kId07rjzPeLylVx_QbxbdzzXd8MFmycDP_RL0HxJ0Brkj1p6T8Fl58BaCJR/s1600/20200126_175502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6PaU8pFuHslrs5IP7i61LNafh9Qq6cLboGtGGjCLoe4pjlIacECVz4gfVA25Q8DixhHDGQd2LOqtPl4R2kId07rjzPeLylVx_QbxbdzzXd8MFmycDP_RL0HxJ0Brkj1p6T8Fl58BaCJR/s200/20200126_175502.jpg" width="200" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">orever. I'm also a lazy clothing selector. I like going to my closet, and wearing whatever I feel. I'd rather not have to wear clothes that "make me look smaller" or my "fat clothes." I'd also rather not pack on any more pounds. With those thoughts in mind, I started looking at sustainable diets. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">A confession: I'm not a diet person. Many years ago I tried the Slim Fast Diet. Remember those things? A</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6PaU8pFuHslrs5IP7i61LNafh9Qq6cLboGtGGjCLoe4pjlIacECVz4gfVA25Q8DixhHDGQd2LOqtPl4R2kId07rjzPeLylVx_QbxbdzzXd8MFmycDP_RL0HxJ0Brkj1p6T8Fl58BaCJR/s1600/20200126_175502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: &quot; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL6PaU8pFuHslrs5IP7i61LNafh9Qq6cLboGtGGjCLoe4pjlIacECVz4gfVA25Q8DixhHDGQd2LOqtPl4R2kId07rjzPeLylVx_QbxbdzzXd8MFmycDP_RL0HxJ0Brkj1p6T8Fl58BaCJR/s1600/20200126_175502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"></span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> shake for breakfast? A shake for lunch? And a delicious meal? Yeah that. Well I did that diet and gained weight. Turns out a shake for breakfast wasn't enough. I had to have four eggs, toast, meat and cheese with it. A shake for lunch was really filling, with a burger and fries, and afternoon snacks. You get the idea. Diets are not for me. There is something about the word "no" that makes me want a thing instantly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">As I write this, half of my friends are on The Next 56 Days. It's a low carb plan. The other half is doing keto, also low carb. Many of them have had great successes with these plans. It's truly about a lifestyle change. But low carb means I have to say "no" to something, and therein lies the problem. I love mangoes, and pineapples, and grapefruit, and apples and kiwi, and guava, peaches, and honey dew, papayas... You see where this is going. A low carb life places restrictions on all of those things. Restrictions means "no." Some people have said, "You can have those things occasionally." Wrong. I see fruit benders in the making. Island folks cannot have fruit occasionally. In fact I'm pretty sure our blood is like ninety percent fruit juice. Going low carb would be difficult at best. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">To complicate matters, I have a very<strike> unhealthy</strike> close relationship with Cheetos. It has been my "go to" stress snack since childhood. It has helped me manage frustration, and hard days. Its crunch has been</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> my reward, and a relaxation technique. It's cheesy therapy in a bag.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">It's fair to say I am a connoisseur of the snack. I've tried them all. Thus far, the Simply Brand puffs are the best<span style="background-color: transparent;">. Nothing comes close. Yes. I know it's not great for me. I don't even want to know what's in the white dust sprinkled on the stuff. Honestly, I'd probably eat it regardless. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman";">For the record, I usually prefer crunchy Cheetos. The Simply brand does make a crunchy version. It is with great reluctance that I admit, the puffs in that brand is better. Not that I'd refuse either version.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "times new roman";">And so it goes. Every time I consider my diet, these deep and troubling thoughts loom. "How would you ever survive low carb? You cannot restrict mangoes. It is an island sin. Your grandmother would be so disappointed. Did God not know too much carbs are bad? Why oh why, did He make all of this delicious fruit? You know Keto doesn't make a Cheeto right? You hate counting anything." </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">It's safe to say that I am resigned to<b><i> mostly</i></b> clean eating. I'll continue to eat tons of fruit and veggies, lots of seafood-mainly salmon because it's easily accessible and I'm part bear. I think someone like me, should just adhere to eating sensibly. I don't need a diet to tell me eating a "family sized" bag of chips in a sitting is not a good idea. At this point I'd be ahead if I just purged my diet of all the O's. Fritos. Doritos. Tostitos. And the obligatory Oreos.</span></span><br />
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"></span><br />shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-40345219487161340732020-02-07T18:53:00.001-08:002021-06-01T20:09:44.009-07:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i><u>"Power Couple"</u></i></b></div>
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Recently a friend referred to my husband and I as a "power couple." She was being completely facetious of course. My family was recovering from a stomach bug. We shared a laugh about how I was about to power through cleaning the toilets, and moved on. </div>
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This morning I awoke to dog poop in my basement. Yes, the same dog that I posted about just a post or two ago. Needless to say any maturity I previously expressed regarding this animal, left me. The dog knew it too. She wisely avoided me the entire time I was cleaning her mess.<br />
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I had recently disinfected upstairs, only to be greeted by the funk of dog coming from downstairs. With no one to strangle in sight, my thoughts mockingly drifted back to the "power couple" joke. I wished my friend could see that moment. Shanda versus dog diarrhea. One half of the "power couple" was totally failing the title.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXW8-KFv0zphAQJxiTNSJ31KychdcrgFLBrgIkPSc7QuETcZORem87p0XmvjZbf37syWuRt4HtyVykZ2HUNeP2LYc6thfJaKczyDbGavAGmixy-ApAvTkkdYD39Wl_mxax9nzepC8dRe48/s1600/IMG_5500.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXW8-KFv0zphAQJxiTNSJ31KychdcrgFLBrgIkPSc7QuETcZORem87p0XmvjZbf37syWuRt4HtyVykZ2HUNeP2LYc6thfJaKczyDbGavAGmixy-ApAvTkkdYD39Wl_mxax9nzepC8dRe48/s320/IMG_5500.JPG" width="240" /></a>Anger flooded my being as I flooded the basement with Clorox. Somewhere in the midst of bleach fumes (or perhaps as a result of it) it occurred to me to be grateful for moments that keep me humble. I'm not sure I was open to that lesson this morning, but it's been with me all day. As a consequence, you get to hear all about it now.<br />
Humility is one of the most underestimated postures in life. Yet, it is one of the most powerful positions we can take. I believe it is the gateway to every blessing of God. The might it takes to humble oneself, is nothing short of divine.<br />
Yes, I know what is meant by the term "power couple." We are talking about a marriage, between two people of equal economic ability, fame, influence, talent and status. These are two people who are dynamic in their own right, but an absolute phenomena when together. Got it. I'd like to present another option, one that represents people of humble circumstances.<br />
<br />
Think about the man who stands by his wife dying of cancer. What about the couple who have stayed together against all the crazy odds? There are those who have limited income, but they love and support each other. What about the parents who don't have wealthy supporters to help them raise the kids? Both work hard on a daily, and stay up at night taking care of sick babies, homework a<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2UOQEtWukr0gWYvmttsnd-cqy_59ANVqgjCoN18yCXux2ms_mYLd6PMaMXJs-gZZDB4DjxMe6QbPWHJYrYyGdRjPDEkJt03lCqHhOKpBbJjFciBtys-wdHq4c1Y_a2eLZ8MDKZ6e4xpH/s1600/IMG_0907.JPG" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2UOQEtWukr0gWYvmttsnd-cqy_59ANVqgjCoN18yCXux2ms_mYLd6PMaMXJs-gZZDB4DjxMe6QbPWHJYrYyGdRjPDEkJt03lCqHhOKpBbJjFciBtys-wdHq4c1Y_a2eLZ8MDKZ6e4xpH/s1600/IMG_0907.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>nd whatever is needed. What about the wife who loves and stands by that husband who lost is job, or became disabled? How about our military families who give up time, limbs and mental health to better our country? These families accept the sacrifices for worthy principles. Are these not power couples?<br />
<br />
I think so. I believe it takes a lot of humility to do the things that simply need to be done. To take every blow that life throws at you, to keep getting up, and fighting to be together, takes tremendous power. Remember, these are the people without maids, chefs, chauffeurs, platinum cards, or whatever convenience makes life easier. I don't begrudge anyone who has work hard or has means. I'd simply like to add another consideration to the term "power couple."<br />
<br />
I believe it takes a lot of power to live a humble and committed life. To stay in love though reality screams "Run!" "Save yourself." It is so easy to reason our way out of such circumstances. Things change. You marry someone, and you both go from being skinny, and having six packs to dad body, cellulite, and muffin tops. We lose our hair. We have car accidents, develop illnesses. We have children who are disabled. These are the things that we can't plan. Yet, many find a way to power through.<br />
<br />
If you have circumstances like these, I honor you. I believe you and others like you are the true "power couples." You experience life in its hardest forms, and you stick with your spouse and choose to keep going. You fight with each other, but you fight harder for each other. I admire you. I'm proud of you for doing the things that needs to be done. I respect you for being humble enough to accept and enjoy what you have, even though you might want more. Whether you are flipping burgers, or cleaning toilets, if you are out there humbly serving, and working along side your spouse to better your family, I applaud you. You have my "power couple" seal of approval."<br />
<br /></div>
shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-69223639654341506452020-02-01T07:31:00.000-08:002020-02-26T03:51:37.123-08:00<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<b><i>"Smile!"</i></b></div>
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The following is a public service announcement: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-YlHGrfyojLiMoZCDOGsg5YvymgzjIRI_ym8_BXxRhDfO1kY7JpEdoxybpfDdKNwNpZuneNhLG_hV9nnEDDUJqL_UsF7ty69JD9ati-n3u23RYCl4h3XCFX9EkOQtJyxAeFlJbuHqNbD/s1600/IMG_1321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-YlHGrfyojLiMoZCDOGsg5YvymgzjIRI_ym8_BXxRhDfO1kY7JpEdoxybpfDdKNwNpZuneNhLG_hV9nnEDDUJqL_UsF7ty69JD9ati-n3u23RYCl4h3XCFX9EkOQtJyxAeFlJbuHqNbD/s200/IMG_1321.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ-YlHGrfyojLiMoZCDOGsg5YvymgzjIRI_ym8_BXxRhDfO1kY7JpEdoxybpfDdKNwNpZuneNhLG_hV9nnEDDUJqL_UsF7ty69JD9ati-n3u23RYCl4h3XCFX9EkOQtJyxAeFlJbuHqNbD/s1600/IMG_1321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>There are those who have made it their life's work to approach random strangers, and instruct them to "smile." Though the public appreciates your interest in gaiety, we ask that you refrain the practice. A smile is like a gift, a reward. You cannot ask or demand it of another human. While we suspect you mean no harm, in essence you are asking strangers to alter their face to please you. It is an insult to the intelligence of the one to whom it is asked. Life has likely taught them when and when not to apply the appropriate facial expression. They have managed to accomplish this fete year after year without you there to instruct them. Consider that the person may not be smiling because they are competent enough the know when not to. Maybe they lost a loved one, have gastrointestinal issues. They could be experiencing a raging personal itch. Perhaps they simply don't want to, or maybe they don't like you. Research seems to suggest a strong correlation between laughter and smiles to like and dislike. Maybe the person is angry. As a general rule angry people frown upon smiling. Literally. It is therefore, not a good practice to ask an angry person to "smile." You risk potential damage to your own smile, and the loss of your very own teeth. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is also possible some of the unsmiling persons among us have naturally angry features. There are other terms for this. Do your research. The point is, quit asking them to customize their appearance to suit your preferred mood. These are people. They are not your minions. They owe you nothing. If you insist on this practice then please expect the "unsmiling" among us to start handing out one word instructions of their own. "Scowl. Bathe. Diet. Flee. Trip. Scratch. Undress. Die." It's only fair they should have a say too. Stop, before commands replace greetings. </div>
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This is also an ideal time to ask those of you, who feel the need to point out to darker black people, that they "look so much better when they smile," to stop. They have seen a mirror, and are fully aware of the contrast between their skin and their teeth. You'd never say to a pale person, "you look so much better when you tan." The practice is then one-sided, and furiously unwelcomed. </div>
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Just stop all smiling advice period. Let nature communicate this. It will be okay. Humanity can handle these things without input. </div>
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Finally, out of goodwill and because your intent is likely kind, try the following solution: If you want to see joy, spread it yourself. It's been proven quite contagious. Spread Joy. Don't demand it. You will see more smiles if you greet others with one of your own. </div>
shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-66234284213749907452020-01-30T11:45:00.001-08:002021-06-01T20:21:11.414-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Pet the Dog</b></div>
<b></b><b></b><br />
I did not want to do it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't hate animals. I’d just rather they all
be yours. Thanks to the firm alliance between my husband, and our eldest daughter, and
a mild fracture in my resolve, we own a dog.<br />
<br />
Okay, so it was more than that. It was arm twisting. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfeAo89sQbgSbqjo0jw-gbaGe9VfltajC-E1ZEXyDQxPRor7XVYB78SqRlblI7CsaNxdzrW-JL1ASDFbJix4sgaYknSxk3-yPGAZ8mIKEYhinJ-gQPpxXF-Fv3HYnShBmt2rkNv4eB3_8U/s1600/PICT1660.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfeAo89sQbgSbqjo0jw-gbaGe9VfltajC-E1ZEXyDQxPRor7XVYB78SqRlblI7CsaNxdzrW-JL1ASDFbJix4sgaYknSxk3-yPGAZ8mIKEYhinJ-gQPpxXF-Fv3HYnShBmt2rkNv4eB3_8U/s200/PICT1660.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
In one of our conversations, my daughter casually <strike>threatened</strike> mentioned, that when she grew up, she'd have thirty dogs and nineteen cats. Instantly, visions of my child hoarding felines and canines emerged. Under duress of
the life to come, I consented to our first dog. Star. That dog ran away. <br />
<br />
Thankfully, the dog was found. Unfortunately, it was found by<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MZAknIdT9-lMIidPou6dnbZQ_mffJpVQ3bBDM13A7kGNeaCrzYo_Ze_HM4SWK76mrveXUukpudYwBRz6QbKb0jRBKe03CVNZOUNIlUgS-Z81aBvkjYIGO_TbNtuVo3guSd5_t34tn5yF/s1600/PICT1661.JPG" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MZAknIdT9-lMIidPou6dnbZQ_mffJpVQ3bBDM13A7kGNeaCrzYo_Ze_HM4SWK76mrveXUukpudYwBRz6QbKb0jRBKe03CVNZOUNIlUgS-Z81aBvkjYIGO_TbNtuVo3guSd5_t34tn5yF/s1600/PICT1661.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>
people who tried to get a hefty ransom for its return. Our child was devastated. She blamed herself. She's that type. We said our mental
goodbyes to Star. My husband and daughter’s alliance took a brief hit. He does
not negotiate with terrorists. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
offered instead to get her another dog. I consented to a second dog. Butter. Buttercup is her whole name. The Princess Bride movie may have played a role in the name choice.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MZAknIdT9-lMIidPou6dnbZQ_mffJpVQ3bBDM13A7kGNeaCrzYo_Ze_HM4SWK76mrveXUukpudYwBRz6QbKb0jRBKe03CVNZOUNIlUgS-Z81aBvkjYIGO_TbNtuVo3guSd5_t34tn5yF/s1600/PICT1661.JPG" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MZAknIdT9-lMIidPou6dnbZQ_mffJpVQ3bBDM13A7kGNeaCrzYo_Ze_HM4SWK76mrveXUukpudYwBRz6QbKb0jRBKe03CVNZOUNIlUgS-Z81aBvkjYIGO_TbNtuVo3guSd5_t34tn5yF/s200/PICT1661.JPG" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Alliance and their first dog, Star</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My permission to both animals hinged on the condition that I would not be responsible for their care in any way. With this key understanding of our treaty in place, "The Alliance" took care of all dog related duties. Things were fine, until my husband's schedule no longer accommodated caring for a dog. Shortly after, our daughter left for college. That is where this story began to impact my life.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!</i></b></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNOLNCHurhuXQeMe-BjBvE_VrqZ4p2OF8gIeZlvp3xCZ9OZY8KuY9F61JJNS-DSGCpGshi23iYT6D7H8CjCswCwsnxinLxrL8cwFivsCES7HSgrRPEsBaofZsrY8jB10ToOSjoXbRbBzC/s1600/PICT1661+%25281%2529.JPG" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b></b><i></i><br /></a>
<br />
The best pets are ones that
do not affect me. Judge away. I have a sister who collects everything
that moves. They are all her "friends." She loves them and cries over them like they are people. I’d like to think that when compassion
for animals is weighed, she’ll make up for what I lack. Still, there was no one
else to take care of this dog. I’m not so heartless as to starve anything. I'm an overfeeder. As long as a person or thing is willing to eat, I’m willing to fix all their problems with food. And so I assumed the responsibility of feeding the dog.<br />
<br />
Daily, I made the trek to the basement. It's Butter's domain.
Where I'm from, animals living with humans is a hard no. Butter is a very smart and very sweet dog. It’s almost like she
understood and respected my terms from the beginning. So unlike a cat. Everyday, I’d open the
door and let her out to roam the fenced backyard. She’d stretch, go out, and wait for her food. After performing
this ritual for a of couple months, I began to get this impression, “Pet the dog.”<br />
<br />
I ignored it. Crazy.<br />
As the days went by, this inclination that I should pause to spend time petting the dog grew. You’ve got
to be kidding me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Isn’t it bad enough that
the treaty has been violated, and I’m left to care for a pet I did not
want?<br />
"Pet the dog." The thought persisted. Apparently, it wasn’t going anywhere. I began to pat the dog briefly. That evolved into a few seconds of half-hearted petting her head. Finally, surrender. And then I saw it. Life.<br />
<br />
I had been studying Job. It’s one of those books in the
Bible that makes God seem like the eternal bully. That is, until you read it and
understand what is really going on. So, I’m reading Job whose “friends” are pretty
much arguing and condemning him as he is covered in boils and truly unaware of doing wrong. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their basic argument
was, "look at you. You must be evil. Things like this don’t happen to
good, and righteous people." At one point in the story, Job uses a surprising
defense to that argument. He basically says, “You’re wrong, and even the animals
know you are wrong.” Job uses the animals and their condition of being under
our authority as proof that life isn’t fair. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLEq-WMmnMipPhcXozNhjaXwlBW6bUQGf_Ue9asoI_NZNT6Mz7yvlnxywSoAUd-3mn6CyQWpc6euQ_amzPwVhJxgyhHz5SoZDeDArsjRdZKvwXk67cfSORCclDGTWggz4u1L0GT_n5B99P/s1600/IMG_0535.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLEq-WMmnMipPhcXozNhjaXwlBW6bUQGf_Ue9asoI_NZNT6Mz7yvlnxywSoAUd-3mn6CyQWpc6euQ_amzPwVhJxgyhHz5SoZDeDArsjRdZKvwXk67cfSORCclDGTWggz4u1L0GT_n5B99P/s320/IMG_0535.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
Suddenly, the prompt to pet the dog made sense. Unlike in the
past, I could see beyond human and animal stations. Superior, and inferior. I could see
light. That's what life is. It's the light of the living thing. That moment with our pet spoke of something greater. It revealed a common thread between me
and the dog; life originating from another source. As insignificant as I may regard an ant, compared to my might, I am powerless to give even the most insignificant of creatures light. <br />
No
matter how small, life can only come from another source of life.<br />
<br />
I believe that source is God. "In Him was the light of men." <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It truly
doesn't matter that we have dominion and authority in the earth. We were given it. That’s an assignment.
That assignment could have gone to the horse. The ant. The owl. Leviathan. Behemoth or any other creature, alive or extinct. Those creatures could have easily been responsible for my care.<br />
We can rule
over life, but we cannot generate life. Even when we reproduce, we are not creating
life. We are passing it on. Our DNA is like live biological stories, passed on from generation to generation. A baby is a new person/life form made alive by another life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think of
it like fire. I can start with one lit candle and pass that candle flame from person
to person, but I am not the source of the light, nor will I ever be able to
generate it. Can I be a conduit, a conductor? Sure, but I cannot generate it.
For me, “pet the dog” became about an acknowledgement of the miraculous quality
of life, and the exclusive power and rights of God in that.<br />
<br />
It is humbling to come face to face with an animal and
realize that in many ways you are as they are. Without control over your own
life. Sure, we can provide our needs, but control, I mean the real control
of our lives is always in the hands of another.<br />
Health. Death. Disasters. Time. It doesn’t matter what height man ascends to; he will always be bound by these
things. They are controlled by another’s hand we don’t always see or
understand. It is there nonetheless. Mysterious. Powerful. Faithful.<br />
<br />
Last year our dog discovered a rabbit's nest in the yard. She also have some realm of control. Smaller animals are at her will. She ended up killing a baby bunny. She wasn't trying to. Still, I was angry. I hate that might unchecked can easily revert to abuse. I look forward to a world where "superiority" and power doesn't result in the harm or disrespect of life. It is precious. Why destroy what we cannot create. Respect it.<br />
<br />
In the meantime I can only control me. Into my hand has been placed the care of people, land, a
dog. With a new understanding of my fragile position, I now look to, and attend to these
things with a little more diligence, and a little more compassion than I once did.<br />
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<msreadoutspan class="msreadout-line-highlight msreadout-inactive-highlight">I continue to "pet the dog." It has had a profound impact on my humanity. </msreadoutspan><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYOcHF4k_Eak22scMlGuNoInRtR26U9UZ1gS2HrOIgZwCXXBh1Vzrqjtu0RE0ocmlmWURNhPQE6HwvBM5nRSzL0nct3QBLTa4_BMTqfLaZX3KG0KgLewa1bF8Izdeef6lQgopSTheTKUX_/s1600/IMG_0521.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYOcHF4k_Eak22scMlGuNoInRtR26U9UZ1gS2HrOIgZwCXXBh1Vzrqjtu0RE0ocmlmWURNhPQE6HwvBM5nRSzL0nct3QBLTa4_BMTqfLaZX3KG0KgLewa1bF8Izdeef6lQgopSTheTKUX_/s320/IMG_0521.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-64063224128579450402020-01-26T18:03:00.001-08:002020-08-15T03:07:37.246-07:00<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
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Behind the Picture: Stories From the Third World Child</div>
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Barefoot. Shirtless. Smiling. Neither party has a clue. The one behind the camera is as oblivious as the one in front of it. They share the same moment, but the experience and interpretation of it is as different as any two stories can be.</div>
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Humanitarians and missionaries love showing pictures. Often those photos are of barefoot, shirtless children. They highlight destitute situations. Extreme poverty. Several years ago, as I watched a slideshow of such scenes, it occurred to me that I could be one of those children. In fact, I half expected my face to pop up at any moment. Perhaps there is a picture of me as a third world child floating around out there, somewhere. No shoes. No shirt. A smile plastered on my face. Allow me to explain.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblN67OOPr6zqluvBUnuHWvP33e1xH3D53uwl4VoEQC1W3XRsSkOgUjrVk_8k4_eSR_XaZ1yykwQh3g5l9KlaMirbFh-Bd59XJuBC4QDlhN393ho7wP2w-lli2gaEsmIrubRDC-j-KE9cx/s1600/20200126_190701.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblN67OOPr6zqluvBUnuHWvP33e1xH3D53uwl4VoEQC1W3XRsSkOgUjrVk_8k4_eSR_XaZ1yykwQh3g5l9KlaMirbFh-Bd59XJuBC4QDlhN393ho7wP2w-lli2gaEsmIrubRDC-j-KE9cx/s320/20200126_190701.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 80%; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">My grandmother's outdoor kitchen: paradise.</td></tr>
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The reason I'm shirtless is quite simple. Let's start there. I am from the Bahamas. Salt water is everywhere. It has a damaging affect on most things. Clothing is no exception. Outfitting a growi<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOcjxYdCFICJOXUPypiuKtFPOuKrd-V5ebYuv2x8azd2tDzfoShiAosFGQ1YLC3S9c6R1j9LmLJCCwgI2a52IQWWZZ_nNvyna5Fdu-c9XFSVhiMrZ87eZrTgEBM7ldSy9TKHM6XcQjcIZ/s1600/20200126_175502.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOcjxYdCFICJOXUPypiuKtFPOuKrd-V5ebYuv2x8azd2tDzfoShiAosFGQ1YLC3S9c6R1j9LmLJCCwgI2a52IQWWZZ_nNvyna5Fdu-c9XFSVhiMrZ87eZrTgEBM7ldSy9TKHM6XcQjcIZ/s1600/20200126_175502.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>ng family in swimsuits is costly, and so it is easier to let kids- even girls who haven't hit puberty- go swimming in old pants, or cut offs. Money saved. Despite the way the image translates for the cameras, I nor my self- esteem, were harmed. Island kids couldn't care less. It is what we know, and the fun is not affected at all. <span face="" style="color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">Further, Island kids have categories of clothing. We have what we call, "yard clothes." These are the raggediest things you'll ever see. "School clothes." That's uniform. Everyone wears uniform. Our "going out clothes" is party attire. Finally, we have "church clothes." That's our formal and fancy stuff. Dresses only for girls. We dare not wear pants to church. Catch me outside of church or school and I am happily in rags and third world camera ready.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgCKk6WuVa25NCia22QgKjf-Pg_1t2xq4NCjzdcN9xnj_obogeq1CuCf-pgkNIo7EA64jHBkPV3fti0L2Vly3j27h2MGlfdxiZpFizlXd35KLFW4_WHuPStTcWLJf_Je7X_DMJoKN8Tw1/s1600/20200126_190814.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgCKk6WuVa25NCia22QgKjf-Pg_1t2xq4NCjzdcN9xnj_obogeq1CuCf-pgkNIo7EA64jHBkPV3fti0L2Vly3j27h2MGlfdxiZpFizlXd35KLFW4_WHuPStTcWLJf_Je7X_DMJoKN8Tw1/s320/20200126_190814.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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Now the reason I'm barefoot is a little trickier. There are many islands in the Bahamas. Long Island is but one of them. Every island has a moniker. It's usually bestowed upon them by the other islands. We are known as "Long Island Sheep Runners." There is no ambiguity in the name. We are literally known for chasing wild sheep. I can confirm that we can catch them too. Of course that's not all we do. As a people, we Long Islanders are known for our test scores. Academics are huge. I will also say, without bias, Long Island has some of the most beautiful beaches and shorelines in the world. It is a paradise of sand and rocks. But paradise has its price.</div>
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If Japan is the "Land of the Rising Sun," then Long Island Bahamas is the "Land of the Rising Rocks." This might explain my obsession with them. One of the first things I noticed upon moving to Virginia, was that there were <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblN67OOPr6zqluvBUnuHWvP33e1xH3D53uwl4VoEQC1W3XRsSkOgUjrVk_8k4_eSR_XaZ1yykwQh3g5l9KlaMirbFh-Bd59XJuBC4QDlhN393ho7wP2w-lli2gaEsmIrubRDC-j-KE9cx/s1600/20200126_190701.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhblN67OOPr6zqluvBUnuHWvP33e1xH3D53uwl4VoEQC1W3XRsSkOgUjrVk_8k4_eSR_XaZ1yykwQh3g5l9KlaMirbFh-Bd59XJuBC4QDlhN393ho7wP2w-lli2gaEsmIrubRDC-j-KE9cx/s1600/20200126_190701.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgCKk6WuVa25NCia22QgKjf-Pg_1t2xq4NCjzdcN9xnj_obogeq1CuCf-pgkNIo7EA64jHBkPV3fti0L2Vly3j27h2MGlfdxiZpFizlXd35KLFW4_WHuPStTcWLJf_Je7X_DMJoKN8Tw1/s1600/20200126_190814.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a> no rocks. Back home they are everywhere. Despite their natural beauty, the rocks presents problems. A common occurrence among island kids is "buckin ya toe." Translation: smashing your toe violently into a rock. That's usually followed by the song and dance of </div>
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pain. All island kids know it well. You learn to avoid these episodes where possible, but mostly we live with the fact that they will occur. That's just island life. I can attest that it is the greatest danger of being without shoes that island kids knew. That, and sand spurs.</div>
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Now at this point, someone from a more "developed country" might ask, "Couldn't this be avoided by wearing proper shoes?"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOcjxYdCFICJOXUPypiuKtFPOuKrd-V5ebYuv2x8azd2tDzfoShiAosFGQ1YLC3S9c6R1j9LmLJCCwgI2a52IQWWZZ_nNvyna5Fdu-c9XFSVhiMrZ87eZrTgEBM7ldSy9TKHM6XcQjcIZ/s1600/20200126_175502.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Why yes. Yes, it could, but we didn't always have shoes. Hence the pictures. I'm getting to why.</div>
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There were and are no Walmarts in the Bahamas. I lived on the island prior to the days of online shopping. Remember island, as in surrounded by water. To bring stuff to an island, you have to either ship it, or fly it in. Both choices change the cost of the item substantially. The shoes that cost twenty dollars at Target here, costs us sixty to a hundred dollars there. Easily. Multiply that by five kids in the case of my parents, and a modest income. It's the same story with the clothes. My friend's mom had fourteen kids. Now consider that most kids need about three types of shoes. Usually sneakers, sandals, and dress shoes. You'd be looking at hundreds of dollars per child, just to keep them in shoes. To top that off, the rocky terrain I mentioned earlier presents a huge problem for footwear. Rocks wears down shoes. Quickly. For these reasons, it was no great shock to see island kids running around the yard without shoes. Our footwear was preserved to be worn at school, church and other special occasions. Some kids even came to school without shoes. When my parents grew up, it was even worse.</div>
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There were times that they were forced to make their own shoes. They call them "Whompas or Land Supplattas." I think they meant "land supplanters." Bahamians can be a bit grammatically lazy. We tend not to pronounce r's. We get close enough to the word, and we fully expect you to figure it out. More on that another time.</div>
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Back to "Land Supplatttas." They were basically car tire rubber, cut to foot size, with a string running between the big toe and secured to the back of the feet. Think ancient sandals and you have the idea. That's what my parents did for shoes. In their day, goods came by sail boats. It was weeks before they</div>
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got supplies. Necessity drove their inventions, and nothing reveals necessity like a lack. </div>
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When I was a child access to shoes was better, but still not great. We got shoes from several sources, mainly stores, and hand-me-downs. Most Long Islanders didn't like hand-me-downs. Pride plays a huge role in the culture, so usually hand-me-downs came only from people in the same family. Even then, it wasn't always welcomed. Stores were the preferred option.</div>
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We had but two stores on the entire island that may or may not carry your shoe size, at a four hundred percent markup. I still remember my mother buying my brother's shoes nearly two sizes too big. She often bought Clarks. They don't wear out as easily. He'd be stuck wearing the same shoes for years! As a teenager, that earned him zero swag points.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hiX1lafFB1yM2F1cskouV_i1jszzFJuVUgYAyMb3a8T_mOEQlAs_WuRGRFGQS7z7A6jsrc_ChMEKZosLPTc9JDXQ1NahHHQ2S8Eyl3epVCOEeC37jXfbqknqEnR_vMBwCPhOgDbWU4t8/s1600/20200126_190738.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hiX1lafFB1yM2F1cskouV_i1jszzFJuVUgYAyMb3a8T_mOEQlAs_WuRGRFGQS7z7A6jsrc_ChMEKZosLPTc9JDXQ1NahHHQ2S8Eyl3epVCOEeC37jXfbqknqEnR_vMBwCPhOgDbWU4t8/s320/20200126_190738.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 80%; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Salvaged steel buoys make excellent pots</td></tr>
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Another source of our shoe supply were shipwrecks. Yep! You read that right. Bahamians actually have a history of wrecking ships as they pass through our waters. It was once an industry. We did this to pillage their goods. We no longer intentionally lead ships to wreckage, but if they happen to hit the reefs and rocks in our seas, run aground or fall apart for any reason, we still pillage their goods. During my childhood that happened somewhat often off Long Island's coast. The goods even washed ashore. The beaches on the north side of the island were my personal treasure trove.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTQ17PZ9qfa3gyJuu9tjQ_NtO7LdVD9dsNt1qwsmXUZJIccWPDBSHwi4dbMO7srqoBIcOqzRDO9SAlnhbZhAQvgVReVdiVXjVMJCsfxOdRUN4OSYsnRVU24YmA7PENmP2cJd8b-fmSz6F/s1600/20200126_190814+%25281%2529.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a>Many of the ships that wrecked were Haitian ships. They carried large amounts of items, including shoes. Whether they were headed to or from Haiti, I cannot tell. I was a child. I just know that the islanders called them "Haitian boats." Every time one of these ships wrecked the people of Long island got rice and shoes. The rice bags were so big, they'd last for years. The adults appreciated that. As for the children of Long Island, we got new shoes. Usually sandals. They were nothing special. They looked like something you'd see in a giant bin at a Walmart or dollar store. Usually they were white with a small pink and yellow flower. A daisy. We called them "Salty Seas" or "Haitian shoes." Oddly, there were no boy "Salty Seas." And they were mostly in sizes for small children. Even if you managed to find them in a larger size, after a while you wouldn't want to be caught dead in them. Du<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTQ17PZ9qfa3gyJuu9tjQ_NtO7LdVD9dsNt1qwsmXUZJIccWPDBSHwi4dbMO7srqoBIcOqzRDO9SAlnhbZhAQvgVReVdiVXjVMJCsfxOdRUN4OSYsnRVU24YmA7PENmP2cJd8b-fmSz6F/s1600/20200126_190814+%25281%2529.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTQ17PZ9qfa3gyJuu9tjQ_NtO7LdVD9dsNt1qwsmXUZJIccWPDBSHwi4dbMO7srqoBIcOqzRDO9SAlnhbZhAQvgVReVdiVXjVMJCsfxOdRUN4OSYsnRVU24YmA7PENmP2cJd8b-fmSz6F/s200/20200126_190814+%25281%2529.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="150" /></a>ring the teen years, they were a hard no. Most kids would rather go bare feet. In some bizarre twist they became an admission of extreme poverty. Islanders wanted no part of such symbolism. Did I mention that Bahamians are a prideful people?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTQ17PZ9qfa3gyJuu9tjQ_NtO7LdVD9dsNt1qwsmXUZJIccWPDBSHwi4dbMO7srqoBIcOqzRDO9SAlnhbZhAQvgVReVdiVXjVMJCsfxOdRUN4OSYsnRVU24YmA7PENmP2cJd8b-fmSz6F/s1600/20200126_190814+%25281%2529.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTQ17PZ9qfa3gyJuu9tjQ_NtO7LdVD9dsNt1qwsmXUZJIccWPDBSHwi4dbMO7srqoBIcOqzRDO9SAlnhbZhAQvgVReVdiVXjVMJCsfxOdRUN4OSYsnRVU24YmA7PENmP2cJd8b-fmSz6F/s1600/20200126_190814+%25281%2529.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a>That's the back story of why I might be that third world kid in front of the camera without shirt or shoes. The smile you see is real because she is truly happy. She comes from a big and boisterous family, that fights like crazy with and for each other when needed. She is loved by a grandmother that thinks the world revolves around this little girl. She has been told she can do anything. She believes it and is confident. She has no idea that she is greatly lacking or pitied by the person behind the camera. If she dreams that her story is an object lesson on commiseration, she would not so easily pose for that camera. Nor would she be smiling. She might even pick up some of those easily accessible island rocks and throw it at the photographer, and their camera. This third world child was among the feisty ones. It would be years before I understood the implications of such images.</div>
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Time passed. Childhood vanished. I graduated high school, and did what most island kids wanted to do. Get away. Leave the rock. See the world. I had my sights set on England. I was too young to go to another country without parental consent. My mom consented to a college in Virginia.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixTQ17PZ9qfa3gyJuu9tjQ_NtO7LdVD9dsNt1qwsmXUZJIccWPDBSHwi4dbMO7srqoBIcOqzRDO9SAlnhbZhAQvgVReVdiVXjVMJCsfxOdRUN4OSYsnRVU24YmA7PENmP2cJd8b-fmSz6F/s1600/20200126_190814+%25281%2529.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>This particular school highlighted missions. The missionaries would bring slides of t<span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">heir travel</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span>experiences from all over the world. Poverty was always a part of that. As evidence of that poverty, there would always be slides of kids without shoes. It was in such a session that our two worlds met. The photographer was revealing what he truly thought of his subject. Me. Once I realized this, I saw an opportunity to enlighten and to learn. I considered what I might say to one whose heart is bent on helping, but whose eyes may not see the whole story. </div>
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No shoes, raggedy clothes, a different country and childhood seemed the only criteria to make these films. I fit the profile perfectly. But what I did not fit was the image of hopelessness I felt conveyed with these pictures. My childhood was like something out of a story book. It's one I regret my own kids did not experience.</div>
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Please don't hear me saying there were no hardships. There were. But like everyone else, those </div>
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hardships related to the hands of the people around me, more than my physical circumstances. Isn't that true for everyone? Rich or poor, our struggles often come from and are due to the people around us, not the material hand we are dealt.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOcjxYdCFICJOXUPypiuKtFPOuKrd-V5ebYuv2x8azd2tDzfoShiAosFGQ1YLC3S9c6R1j9LmLJCCwgI2a52IQWWZZ_nNvyna5Fdu-c9XFSVhiMrZ87eZrTgEBM7ldSy9TKHM6XcQjcIZ/s1600/20200126_175502.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOcjxYdCFICJOXUPypiuKtFPOuKrd-V5ebYuv2x8azd2tDzfoShiAosFGQ1YLC3S9c6R1j9LmLJCCwgI2a52IQWWZZ_nNvyna5Fdu-c9XFSVhiMrZ87eZrTgEBM7ldSy9TKHM6XcQjcIZ/s320/20200126_175502.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><br />
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As far as happiness goes, I ate organic before it was trendy. Mango trees grew mere feet from my doorsteps. That was true of papaya, avocado, pomegranate, plantain, cherries, tamarind, orange, grapefruit, plum, banana, guava, tangerine, "caneps," sugar cane, and many more trees and bushes. These are just the fruit most would recognize, and not the native stuff, vegetables, nuts and vines. We made our own grits and flour. Shipwrecked rice proved a welcomed bonus. We farmed raised all our meats. I lived steps from the ocean, Our yard was full. The sea was full, and so were our bellies. What more could one want?</div>
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Life was simple, but it was healthy, meaningful, and it was rich. Even if not in the material sense. I still remember American kids who came to the Bahamas on a "mission trip" mocking how outdated things were. They were in Nassau. That's the city. No way could they survive Long Island. As I listened to their words of shock over outdated police vehicles, my mind registered their true meaning. They saw our circumstances. They didn't see us. It made me wonder what the "mission" truly was? I<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOcjxYdCFICJOXUPypiuKtFPOuKrd-V5ebYuv2x8azd2tDzfoShiAosFGQ1YLC3S9c6R1j9LmLJCCwgI2a52IQWWZZ_nNvyna5Fdu-c9XFSVhiMrZ87eZrTgEBM7ldSy9TKHM6XcQjcIZ/s1600/20200126_175502.jpg" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOcjxYdCFICJOXUPypiuKtFPOuKrd-V5ebYuv2x8azd2tDzfoShiAosFGQ1YLC3S9c6R1j9LmLJCCwgI2a52IQWWZZ_nNvyna5Fdu-c9XFSVhiMrZ87eZrTgEBM7ldSy9TKHM6XcQjcIZ/s1600/20200126_175502.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>n that moment, it seemed only like they came to prove that they had it better. They did. Mission accomplished. Despite that, I don't fault them. They had a different way of life. More conveniences. I appreciate that. I also greatly appreciate the work of the missionaries, and other humanitarians. There are so many places they do go where people are struggling, ravished, languishing, and desperately needing help. I'm not speaking for those places or people. I'm speaking for me, and kids like me. Kids who culturally understood that we don't have to have everything, to have everything. We have made peace with a certain amount of lack. We overcome it and thrive. We are not waiting to "have it all" to truly enjoy life. It is a powerful lesson, and the very reason why we are able to rejoice with those who do have, while bearing the burdens of less. <br />
It is also the reason we are able to welcome the wealth of nations, and serve with a smile. There is no bitterness. There is joy. Circumstances aside, we are generous with what we do have, our land. Our stories. Our culture. These are the most prized of all we own.<br />
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No, we did not have all American kids have materially. Yes, by those standards we were poor, but it's not the kind of poverty that renders one hopeless. It was the kind of poverty that induces dreams. It was a poverty related to conveniences. I now question whether that's truly poverty at all. It's not just my pride at play. Should we really call the lack of convenience, poverty? So we had no running water, but a well or water pump was steps from my door? Does the fact that I had to work a little harder to accomplish the same thing you did, make me poor? If in the end I accomplish the same thing, have I not gained something extra in the form of discipline by having to work harder for it? Does work ethic have value?</div>
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Many kids on Long Island grew up reading their books by the light of kerosene lamps. We did not have electricity, but we sat in the same colleges in the developed world as those who grew up with such extravagances. I often find myself in places "I don't belong." I can't help but smile every time. I am the granddaughter of a woman who could barely read or write. She loved, and fought fiercely so that her children and grandchildren would have a different outcome. She worked the fields. Tended flocks. Her sacrifice and hard works made a world of difference. No amount of material things will measure up to the power of having someone love, and encourage you.</div>
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In the end it is all a wash, if you are willing to work hard. It's truly not what you have, but what you do with what you have.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 80%; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Modest and sufficient</td></tr>
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We island kids didn't have the shoes or the clothes, but I would challenge you to find people on this planet who took care of what they have quite as well. We valued our meager possessions. Gratitude comes easier to those unaccustomed to excess. </div>
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We were also very kind. No need went unnoticed. My grandmother fed anyone that came to her home. If she butchered an animal, the neighbors had meat. If the neighbor caught fish, we had some too. She and others like her, taught us hospitality.</div>
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I personally learned the value of trying, and never giving up. There is always a way. It may not be the easiest way, but who ever said it needs to be? Do it the hard way if you have to, but do it. As long as you get there, it won't matter. You might even need to invent the way and create whatever you need to get you to your goals. I've learned to be creative. Let your necessity drive your ingenuity. My point is, I learned. I grew, because of what I did not have. I did not see my lack as a liability. It was fuel.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sister: the smile continues</td></tr>
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This conversation can last a while. I just wanted to encourage you to consider that poverty is not the lack of convenience. It is the lack of necessities. It is also the lack of love. See beyond the shoes and bare backs. Some of those little shirtless, bare bellied kids are the richest in the world. I know. I was one of them. They will grow up to value hard work. It is steeped in their DNA. They will appreciate those days as I do now. Humble beginnings can give birth to greatness and blessings. And sometimes success flows from what you don't have, but would like to achieve. That's true in so many areas, including materially and relationally. Always be willing to help those in need, but never assume you know what that need is. There is more to the picture than meets the eye, and true change only occurs when hearts meet. Aim to know the heart of a person.</div>
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Be open to what you don't see. In this case, know that I am happy and proud to be that third world kid. No shoes and all. One day I will grow up to savor the life, and experiences you see in the pictures. They will form the basis of who I am. Know that I wouldn't trade those days or being Sarah Knowles granddaughter for any convenience in the world. That is what the camera did not capture, but it is more true than the image before your eyes. I know that my barefoot and belly is a bit shocking, but I hope you will see what I do have, and what I'm gaining. My story is not the fact that I </div>
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exist without means. It is in the fact that God saw fit that I should exist at all. In His purposes and plans for me lies the true picture of my value.</div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-71415825890609933502020-01-24T04:46:00.001-08:002021-06-01T20:27:29.799-07:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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"AM-BEE-DAHH!"<br />
The Mommy Choice</div>
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"Ambeedah!" For a while this was a normal word at our house. My youngest coined the phrase as soon as she could babble. The following two and a half years, she passionately yelled it at anyone. She'd chant it. She'd sing it. And of course as her mom I got the questions, or the questioning looks. "What does that mean?"<br />
Thing is, we never knew what it meant. Our best guess was that it was the toddler equivalent of "Whatever!" Still, it became a normal part of our family's vocabulary. Eventually, we were all saying it. It was funny to us, regardless of how strange or odd it sounded to others.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Children are like butterflies</td></tr>
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This drove home a lesson. It is possible to become so accustomed to "your crazy" that normal seems insane. Life is strange in that way. </div>
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When I first became an at home mom, I had no idea what that would look like. I imagined some motherly looking, domestic lady, decked out in an aproned floral dress, enjoying activities like sewing, baking and such. I feared that. I knew I could never be her, and I didn't want to be. I'd rather be wielding a power tool, or clearing some logs. And, I'll trade you that apron for moisture wicking joggers. </div>
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I struggled a bit to find my footing in this role. For a few years I was clueless. Sure I cooked, cleaned and did the errands, but it was a bit bland for my taste. Truth is, I wasted a lot of time. I deeply regret that. When my eldest went to school I wrestled even more with filling my day. It wasn't so much I lacked things to do, it was more deciding what I needed to do. Focus, time management and motivation were major hurdles. I continue to clumsily navigate my way around, and over these things. <br />
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There was also the outside expectations. When people asked "What do you do?" I'd cringe. The question seemed more like a qualifier than an honest inquiry. One asked to size people up, and place them on some sort of value scale. </div>
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"Wow, a doctor? That's nice." </div>
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"A cashier." </div>
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"Cashier. Now that sounds interesting. I couldn't be a cashier. I'd spend my entire paycheck."<br />
The answers to the question garnered the appropriate sized-up response. They range from impressed to patronizing. But instinctively I always knew who the "low man on that totem pole" was. The cashier is deemed less significant.<br />
That is, until it's my turn to answer.</div>
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"Oh a housewife? I don't know how you do it. My kids would drive me crazy." And those are among the best of the polite replies. I have thoughts on comments such as these. Thankfully, I've mostly managed to keep them to myself. The point is, I didn't like this question, not because I cared what people think, but more because I struggled in the role. I wasn't confident in the answer. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What was </td></tr>
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Then came the decision to homeschool. It only made these interactions worst. With the phrase, "I homeschool." I could bring the liveliest of conversations to a screeching halt. It should really be a super power or something. It's like walking around with a head made of bologna, and spaghetti noodles for hair. You're just asking for weird interactions.<br />
Oddly enough, homeschooling has been a gift to me. Doing it well, doesn't allow enough time to be bored. With the addition of a second child, our place seemed more like a zoo most days. In fact, I'm convinced that homeschooling with a toddler should be considered an Olympic event.<br />
On any given day someone was yelling. Sometimes out of excitement. Sometimes out of anger, and through tears. Sometimes we are just too lazy to go to the other room and speak to each other. But mostly because there is a lot of goofing off going on. My husband, the ringleader, is a giant child. </div>
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Things have changed so dramatically in the last several years. I don't mind the questions so much, and I don't inner cringe when I answer. In fact, I'm starting to love them. I no longer feel the need to explain either. I enjoy what I do. It's the hardest most rewarding job I've EVER had. I'm fortunate enough to spend as much time with my people as I want, and I would not trade it for the appropriate, respectable job title. "Mom" works for me.<br />
At any minute of the day I'm wearing many hats. I am a nurse, a teacher, a gardener, a chef, a mediator, a chauffeur, a coach, a maid, a painter, a judge. The list is long, and this position has grown and matured me like nothing else has.<br />
Through the years I've transitioned from chasing a one year old yelling "Am-bee-dah!" whatever that means, and listening to the dramatic life of an 11yr old, to more recently graduating one, and sending her off the college. The "baby" can no longer be easily carried, but cuddle time is still in high demand. Playtime is still preferred to all else, and I know way more about My Little Pony than I care to admit. But the reality that these days won't last forever has hit my home in a very literal sense. I soak these moments in. They are not for everyone, but they are perfectly for me. It's my crazy. I'm living it and loving it by the grace of God.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new normal</td></tr>
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Perhaps your crazy is carting kids to school and a bazillion other activities as you work, and pay bills. You don't owe me or anyone else any explanations. I trust that in wisdom you've made the best choice for your family. I'd only ask for a similar respect. The mommy job is a tough one. I honor anyone committed to doing it well. Whether you work in the home, or away from home, it matters not. Most important is that we do our part in working to show the people in our lives we love them. Everyone else can have a silent sandwich. I'm not saying their opinions don't matter. I'm simply saying, I no longer care.<b><i> </i></b><br />
<msreadoutspan class="msreadout-line-highlight msreadout-inactive-highlight"><b><i><br /></i></b></msreadoutspan>
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<msreadoutspan class="msreadout-line-highlight msreadout-inactive-highlight"><b><i>Ambeedah!</i></b></msreadoutspan></div>
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shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-32284218125694775612020-01-23T12:28:00.000-08:002020-01-23T12:28:56.043-08:00<span style="color: #004000;"></span><div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Small Sin</b></div>
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I recently had a conversation with a friend regarding weight. Among women, it's bound to come up at some point. I am not overweight. Mostly, because I guard against it. But during our conversation she reminded me of the times my issues with food was dismissed or assumed non-existent because I don't fit the profile. I'm not fat. That memory triggered the following rant. </div>
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I definitely try to stay on top of my weight, but the sin of gluttony isn't a pound issue. And though it's harder to see on smaller people, unfortunately in my case, it is still there. </div>
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It dawned on me a while back that if a skinny person says they are a glutton most of what they'd hear from believers and non believers alike is, "you're not fat. You're in shape." </div>
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It's as though we can't see beyond the flesh. We are so committed to judging based on appearances. At the same time, if I confessed to adultery no one will say," it's okay. Your husband doesn't know about it" or "It's okay. You're not pregnant by the other guy yet." </div>
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The conviction came that what God calls sin has to be sin regardless of the contradictions in appearance. Perhaps that's why the church has been less potent. We are so obsessed with how good we look, we disregard the sin in our midst.</div>
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In this case, the sin is gluttony. While God calls it wrong, we deem it a minor issue. Instead, we choose and are quick to make swift judgments of others based on size. Not sin. Size. There is a difference. We neglect the fact that weight is not always a true reflection of the heart. A gluttonous heart overindulges in many things. Not just food. All gluttony is greed based. It appears to be one of the silent sins in the church. We either go out of our way to avoid it, and say nothing about it, or we focus on "obvious offenders." There is nothing wrong with encouraging the discipline and health of another human being. That's the loving thing to do. But targeting those who simply "look the part" isn't a fair measure either, nor does it do enough to get to the root of the problem. We must call out gluttony where we find it. </div>
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Yes, there are those who are obese, because their actions dictate that. Still, there are larger people who eat significantly less than I do, and are further down the road of self control than I am. Their discipline and restraint puts mine to shame. The difference between us is metabolism. The fact that I enjoy sweaty workouts doesn't hurt either. I hate that their judgment is harsher than mine based on ignorance.</div>
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That said, the amount of eye rolls I'd get for mentioning any struggle with food among most people (especially those larger) is ridiculous. It's like my size negates my sin. </div>
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I've been doing it though. In a group of overweight believers I confess it regardless. Sin is sin. And I'd like to see things like this change in the church. Stop judging by the eye. If we must apply judgment then let it be by the Word according to the Spirit. </div>
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Greed and gluttony is not solely a matter of weight. It is a matter of sin. And every believer must agree with. Our standard of judgment should be above the world's standard, otherwise why "believe" at all?</div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-14372557739465786222017-02-28T17:36:00.001-08:002017-02-28T17:36:05.808-08:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Follow</span></strong> <span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Me</strong></span></div>
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After years of wondering I finally got some revelation about what to do with my life. Be warned;<br />sometimes the answer to such a question may leave you with even more profound questions. This has been very true in my case. Build a business empire is the answer I got. Now how do I go about that exactly? Thus far I haven't been able locate the instruction manual. Thoughts around building and growing a business suddenly made updating my LinkedIn account appear attractive. It didn't take long to realize I was out leagued. After looking at potential connections, I just couldn't get peace or find the words to list the highlights of my inexperienced work history. Sure I could say writer, (although not enough of creative writer to construct an engaging LinkedIn profile). I could say teacher, cake decorator... but truthfully I feel more like a student of all of those things than master. As simple as it seems, there was a very real pause in me about what to say and whom to follow. That's when I remembered these words: "Follow me." They were first uttered by Jesus. He coined the term long before Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn and any other form of social media exsisted or even had a clue. He spoke those words across centuries, with all history in mind. The invitation is as geniune today as it was back then. "Follow me." No skill or title required, and anyone, and I do mean <strong><em>anyone</em></strong> can access His presence. I am friends with the most high, all powerful God. I am connected to the almighty. This business thing looks scary, but it's safe to say <strong><em>do</em></strong> "I know someone." I think I'll be ok with or without LinkedIn. Everyone, <strong><em><u>everyone</u></em></strong> should be so connected. As they say "It not what you know. It's who you know." <strong><em><span style="color: black; font-size: large;">#following Jesus...</span></em></strong><br />shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-52623132469684022232016-04-28T16:55:00.001-07:002016-04-28T16:55:31.604-07:00for King & Country - It's Not Over Yet (Lyric Video)<div style="text-align: center;">Song in my Head...</div><br /><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/XmTmTMcdxOs" width="480"></iframe>shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-26530754924339149442016-03-25T05:23:00.000-07:002016-03-25T05:23:04.489-07:00Big Daddy Weave - "My Story" (Official Music Video)<br />
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Grace has been on my mind. Most people have no use for the word, and books have been written attempting to define it. I won't get into that. All I know is God, by dying and raising again, did something for me that I<strong><em> <span style="color: red;">DESPERATELY</span></em></strong> needed, but could NEVER do for myself. He rescued me AND gave me power in this life and the life to come. His sacrifice has allowed me to experience the awesomeness of being in right relationship with Him. His love was proactive. I did not deserve any of this, yet I value it above all else. <br />
I heard this song a few months ago is. It seemed like a fitting time to share it. It's powerful to me, because this is my story too. It is the story of anyone who truly believes and places faith in Christ. It is the heart of real Easter celebration. Hopefully this is your story too. May you truly know the grace of God. Happy Easter!<br />
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<br />shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-472141299115657842016-03-02T01:52:00.000-08:002020-01-19T01:36:00.099-08:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: black;"><b>Gratefully Insane! </b></span></div>
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<b><i>I'm amazed by some of the things we accept as truth. Many of which are a full assault on wisdom and common sense. Yet, if it contains the tiniest element of truth, we accept it absolutely. Even worst, we perpetuate it. Here is one: "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result." Really? I hear that one often. Thing is, where I'm from that definition fits the description of another word. Perseverance. I guess perseverance is the new insanity. </i></b></div>
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<strong><em>It's a shame that we now frown upon, and even vilify persistence. Persistence requires repetition of effort. Success in any area relies heavily on it. Repetition is a hard. Repetition without reward is even more difficult. It's draining. It's like a constant blow to the soul, a journey in defeat. As painful as this process can be, nothing that we really want comes easily, or happens on the first try. Repetition perfects a thing. The old adage is largely true. "Practice makes perfect." Sadly, it is in direct opposition to the "insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result" mantra. </em></strong><br />
<strong><em>I was taught "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again." Now we are being told, "if at first you don't succeed, lower the bar and redefine success." This can only be true if your definition of success is not God's definition. His is a standard that doesn't change. That aside, easy routes, and minimal sacrifices seems the current wave of thinking. It has seeped deep into church. Words that conflict with this new idea, have been phased out. They are not really on trend. Discipline. Self-control. Longsuffering. Steadfastness. Perseverance.</em></strong><br />
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<b><i>Still, the Christian life is about perseverance, not preservation. Unfortunately, we've made it about the latter. This makes "quitting" winning. Preservation is the operating system of the flesh. Anything that conflicts with self can be put aside and reasoned away. Perseverance is the power of the Spirit. There is no "give up" in it.</i></b><br />
<strong><em> The scriptures teach "do not to grow weary in well doing." We are promised a harvest if we do not give up- Galatians 6:9. The enemy wants us believe that continuously doing well expecting to reap a reward is insanity. Do you realize how insane Jesus would look by today's definition? He uses kindness to lead people to repentance. He demonstrated His love for us by dying for us while we were sinners. He consistently acted in love for His enemies. </em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Today we'd call that being a "doormat." I wonder how many believers can say they have determined and consistently demonstrated love towards an enemy? We struggle to do that with love ones. To defend this low threshold for enduring in love we quickly cite scriptures about Jesus whipping the money changers in the temple. It's an attempt to justify our unholy "stand up for yourself" position. But we forget He allowed himself to be nailed to a tree by those who hated Him. He allowed Himself to be spat upon. He was abused by His enemies. He did not "stand up for Himself." He could have. Instead He allowed it. Who does that? By today's standard that's being a "doormat" indeed! Yet, He persevered in humility with mercy. He continues to today. How many people blaspheme God's name daily and still live? He is holy. Where can His eyes find rest from sin on this earth? Still, He endures the profound vileness of the sins on this planet AND continues to do good for sinful, abusive people. That is the very definition of what our world has labelled a "doormat. "Truth is, often what we call being "doormat" God calls patience and longsuffering. It was His perseverance in such things that allowed Him to go to the cross, overcome it and offer us life. Imagine if Jesus decided, it's insane to repeatedly humble Himself. Why should God persist in suffering? He is God. </em></strong><br />
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<strong><em>Suffering. Longsuffering, is truly the heart of the matter. This is what we are really fighting against. We cannot tolerate pain. We want no part of it. Hey, I don't desire it either. Still, suffering done well produces an unparalleled result. On more than one occasion the scriptures talk about glorying in suffering. The repetition must mean we it's of great importance. These are the passages we want to forget. We want to explain them away or ignore them all together. We talk openly about the grace of God, but we perceive it to require no pain, suffering or effort from us. The grace of God is a wonderful thing, but we like to forget 2 Corinthians 2:9-10 (KJV). "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore will I boast more gladly in my weakness, so that Christ's power may rest upon me. That is why for Christ sake I delight in weakness, and insults and hardships, in persecutions and difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." Grace is a support in suffering?</em></strong><br />
<strong><em>Everything in God's word is for our benefit. </em></strong><strong><em>There are no "filler scriptures." We cannot reason this away. God's grace is great, but grace isn't here to make us feel "no pain" and erase all effort or judgment. That's a lie! Grace is NOT an enabler or perpetrator of weakness. It is not call to laziness. It is an opportunity for the revelation of God's power. Grace does not eradicate suffering. Grace enables us to confidently withstand hardships and overcome them. Grace is not peace with the flesh. It is God's power over it. It is not an escape mechanism, whereby we elude all pain and accountability in life. How many times have we heard grace used as a reason to blanket pardon ungodliness? Yet we'd be offended to the core if we were ever told, "God's grace is enough to help us in trial." It sounds so preachy and uncaring, but one is the truth, the other a lie. Often the lie is embraced and truth rejected. Unless we endure sound doctrine, we will not realize "God's kingdom come, and His will be done on earth." We must align our lives with truth. The truth is grace is not merely the peace with sin and failure we have reduced it to. True grace reveals the power of God. It is triumphant. It calls us to attempt the impossible. Anything calling itself grace, marked by sin and no power of God is a lie. Grace and power are usually a packaged deal.</em></strong><br />
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<strong><em>Romans 5:3 talks about not only glorying in suffering, but says suffering produces perseverance. Perseverance produces character, and character, hope. Say what! The root of hope is suffering? I don't understand this fully. It seems like a contradiction. Yet, it is truth. I have, an continue to experience this. My suffering fixes my focus. The end result is a greater hope. This does not always happen immediately. Sometimes it happens eventually. The point is, there is meaning in our suffering. This world will not let us escape it without us going through difficult things. God in grace, gave us the power to overcome and redeem those situations. He even promised us in Isaiah 40:28-31 to give power to the weak, a renewal of strength, and endurance to the weary. Perseverance is hard. But God blesses us to be able to do it.</em></strong><br />
<strong><em>I encourage you to align your will with God's will. Persevere in His ways, even when it looks insane to those around you. Don't give up no matter how long it's been, or how bad it looks. Truth has no expiration date. "In due time you will reap, if you faint not."</em></strong><br />
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shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-85630635549816421922016-02-29T17:07:00.000-08:002016-02-29T17:07:25.231-08:00<div align="center">
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-size: x-large;">Some days (Mondays) are harder than others.</span></div>
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shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-8977517501467144292016-02-19T06:39:00.001-08:002020-01-17T21:04:12.748-08:00<div style="text-align: center;">
Destination: Journey</div>
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Are you comfortable with being alone? How about being alone for a long time? Resist the urge to answer immediately. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDWOD9C-0UvlfZWG1k87q-oTJr_soVV_ovNro0HrnQJUGqx1BcPohEtREI-nUWSJ8pyh-N5nodwZVVWf8BLwpOyi075WsK1E50b0xw1fGFJjGtOu9UeB_9oHQWdrrwyrSXoQ32gx6ECjBy/s1600/parkadventures+030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDWOD9C-0UvlfZWG1k87q-oTJr_soVV_ovNro0HrnQJUGqx1BcPohEtREI-nUWSJ8pyh-N5nodwZVVWf8BLwpOyi075WsK1E50b0xw1fGFJjGtOu9UeB_9oHQWdrrwyrSXoQ32gx6ECjBy/s200/parkadventures+030.JPG" width="200" /></a>Alone is a small word with mighty implications. It can be the best and worst thing to happen to you. It can be the ingredient that takes your life to another level, set you free, keep you stagnant, or set you back years. How many people put off life until they have the desired company? How many wait until they feel they will have the desired effect. Trips, ideas, businesses, obedience, charity, talents, feelings, dreams all placed on hold waiting for right time and the right person/people to come along. Even fitness goals are put off for lack of a workout partner, spousal or familial support. This baffles me. How does the mind allow us to take something individualistic in nature, and make it about having company? It does. Often.</div>
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I'd like to see that changed. Being alone is not exactly the same as being lonely. That could be part of it, but it's not the same thing. God created Eve because it wasn't good for man to be alone. Yet He, Jesus, often went alone to pray. What alone means and how it affects our lives depends largely on how it is used. </div>
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Busy is in. We are surrounded by lots to see, do, and many "friends" to join us. I question the fullness of our schedules. How much of it is fluff? Are we trading great things for good things? Are we making time for what is truly important? Are we avoiding reality (assuming we know what that is) and escaping into foolishness? Are we trading "right now" waiting for the right people, time and circumstances?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4tAW_7vCyveDq-cYp8mwTrTLP4N-UmO6or3qyY_u9CiLwf1Iw-8lbjFUe5sfnX-vF7SvD2j5VfvFDNYe5Dy6NGlTF0Hv8IonE020e30CRPhsIJQ4Kkj7JFVGUS2pCWRT9PmD9fkZquHt/s1600/parkadventures+035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP4tAW_7vCyveDq-cYp8mwTrTLP4N-UmO6or3qyY_u9CiLwf1Iw-8lbjFUe5sfnX-vF7SvD2j5VfvFDNYe5Dy6NGlTF0Hv8IonE020e30CRPhsIJQ4Kkj7JFVGUS2pCWRT9PmD9fkZquHt/s320/parkadventures+035.JPG" width="320" /></a>For years, I was plagued by "right time" mentality. I wouldn't describe myself as patient ...yet I waited decades for the right moment to begin walking in my talents. For a long time I didn't even acknowledge them. Weird. I hate failure so I was waiting for the "right time" to try. I didn't really believe in my abilities so I waited on the right support. I didn't see how I could achieve the things I dreamed, so I waited for the right connections. I was waiting doing nothing. Frozen. Life was passing. The right people weren't showing up. The timing was way off. In fact circumstances often produced a current that kept taking me further from my ideal scenarios. I was drifting away from the situations and people I felt I needed to make my life really happen. All around me, as far as I could see was open water. No life preservers of "right time," "right support," or "right connections" in sight. Recently, I got tired of the drift and determined I'd swim up stream- alone if I have to...for as long as I have to. But I don't have to. I serve the God who walked on water. I believe He could have ran on it if He wanted to.That same power is still available to me. Like Peter if I trust Him, I can walk on water too. </div>
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Water. For years I had this reoccurring dream of standing on the rocks or shore, often overlooking cloudy, choppy waters, wondering if I should get in. I no longer wonder. They don't come often, but now when I have those dreams, I'm in the water and venturing further from land. I not sure where I'm going, but I'm purposely wading with God through life to what He's called me to in Him. I do not have the right circumstances. I pretty much have chaos. I do not have the right support. Most people have no idea what I truly want to achieve. I'm sure they'd smile politely and cringe inwardly if they knew. No matter. However big or small, if God has led you to it, do it with all your might. Alone if you have to. </div>
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So, do you feel alone? That has everything to do with how you live your life. Embedded in the belief that we are alone is power. It is the source of many lies, and can be the seed of defeat. The belief that we are alone is one of the greatest obstacles to trying anything. Actually, alone means no real reason to try. Alone means no accountability. Alone means no direction. Alone means little hope for a future. Alone means no one sees. No one cares. What does it matter? Why be faithful, persevere, walk in integrity? I could go on. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZUNOZX_jdZQW05O0kUmIuUxCsiTTIaFCKm8qe1cqH_Qq-40IwSjzpiHJE1kmJAzKMCivHJazxm81wDOA627qepT1EB4Im-Mw8y7zP4tK6jPPLw2eP48ILsjy_6FgIMo8xqdzQD2tIoz71/s1600/parkadventures+047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZUNOZX_jdZQW05O0kUmIuUxCsiTTIaFCKm8qe1cqH_Qq-40IwSjzpiHJE1kmJAzKMCivHJazxm81wDOA627qepT1EB4Im-Mw8y7zP4tK6jPPLw2eP48ILsjy_6FgIMo8xqdzQD2tIoz71/s200/parkadventures+047.JPG" width="200" /></a>The reason we do most things is to serve, impress, help or hurt somebody. Admit it or not, we are motivated by others. Not always, but more often than we think. Facebook. Twitter. Instagram. I rest my case. That is why you must hear this: <i style="font-weight: bold;">You are not alone. You don't have to get comfortable with being alone at all!</i> Never. Ever! It may appear no man genuinely stands with you, or near you for miles. God does. His company is better than armies of trillions. He stands with you and knows your potential in Him. Live what He has imagined for you. I'm not talking about something out of the realm of His will. I'm talking about God given ideas, the way you treat others, handle life's issues etc. In all of it, God has a will for you. This is the seed of dreams, doing life God's way. Obedience to what God has already shown you, unmasks God's dreams for you. It brings life's mission into focus. Clarity.</div>
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It's tempting to think that the dream is the culmination of an idea or final a destination. Think again. Often the dream is the foul stuff that gets worked out of us on journey. It is the truth we come to know, and trust and the lies we lay aside along the way. I don't believe God's dream is the destination. I believe God's dream for us, is the fruit we produce on a well traveled journey. His dream is who we can become in Him as a result of the journey. The destination is the reward for that journey. </div>
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When I was a kid there was a church a few miles from my house. The minister and his family, which for a while consisted of Him, his wife and the one child, would leave their house, drive to the church and worship. They did this every Sunday. During my early years my family would attend regularly. As I got older, no one but the minster and his family went. That number could be as little as three, or as high as six. Still they went. From my house I could hear them over loud speakers praising God and preaching. I used to wonder "Why? Why go when no one attended but his family? Why not just have church at home?" It wasn't until a few months ago I understood why. This man lived as unto the Lord. He was faithful to the one who sees all. No one in my settlement will ever be able to say to God, "we had no church. No one told us about you." This man gave everyone a chance, every Sunday to choose God. He even preached in the streets. By all appearances He was served alone. He continues to do so to this day. He has been faithful to the call, but equally as important, faithful to the journey. Truth is it is impossible to fulfill any call/mission unless you are devoted to the path that takes you there. So many of us want the prize, but despise the path to it. If I'm honest, that's where I spent most of my adult life wanting the end results, of a hard fought battle, but not the battle. All the spoils for none of the war is childish. I had to grow up, and make peace with the path. Like the preacher, I had to accept struggles, and be committed to obedience in them. Faith does that.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRqB3E7zq2kUtgjPVn6mvYBlVKyShab1xPCjMAbYFccd_GlELoN02U82fg_u2HiY13lfCP5Cy8T3DlToOVi3out6eGib4VDYcw_2eEzLL7RaExkh4iEaxd6BITHzByls9VkxsozbAWRFYt/s1600/parkadventures+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRqB3E7zq2kUtgjPVn6mvYBlVKyShab1xPCjMAbYFccd_GlELoN02U82fg_u2HiY13lfCP5Cy8T3DlToOVi3out6eGib4VDYcw_2eEzLL7RaExkh4iEaxd6BITHzByls9VkxsozbAWRFYt/s320/parkadventures+019.JPG" width="320" /></a>I have a feeling that there are rewards untold for those who are faithful, especially when they appear alone in their faithfulness. I could tell you of a few others, who walked alone. There are not many, but in my life God has placed a few. I believe He did so for such a time as this. Their past example is a road map to my present state, and perhaps to you. Alone is never alone. What you do when you feel that way matters most. I've had examples of what it means to be faithful. I too can be faithful. They have taught me that failure is not proof that we are alone. Failure is an opportunity to persist in faith. Perseverance isn't really tested until you must continue on alone. Resistance isn't proof that you are alone. It is where you determine what you really believe and who trust. It's where you find your truest friend, God Himself. Get "alone" with and discover what it means to truly walk with Him. He is the hope of hardness.</div>
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How many of you are standing on the shores of your talents and abilities? Not sure you want to wade in the water of that, or go where it takes you? Do you love your comfortable shoreline? Is it your "sure thing?" So many people become observers of their own lives, watching the horizon, waiting for their ship to come in." Just remember "ships don't come in" unless they first leave the shores of somewhere. "Ships don't come in" unless someone has the tenacity to get on the water and sail or steer that thing into harbor. An unmanned vessel is a wreck waiting happen. Don't be a wreck! In the words of the old spiritual, "wade in the water children. Wade in the water!"</div>
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shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979111476984341507.post-84139817651035250332016-02-11T17:53:00.001-08:002020-01-17T09:20:47.468-08:00<div align="center">
Love's Got You</div>
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You are no accident. Nor is your visit to this page. You are reading these very words by supernatural design. They were given to me for you. True story. I asked God one day, "God what do I tell people about you?" "Love has them." Those were the words He gave me. It's a strange message, but I instantly knew its meaning and implications. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMXGch0EgOdNMNxbEFAeJec3IvO6Z9xqe2ADZ7Fr-pn6yd1Pn6ymvl-ZtcgHcRm8bVuoTNeB21Mlw0Siaw8OfgFMkD7mbKfEhVNyOaA6K9gUyXNk9bwY_wVFU8xafU6_D8o7GMUwquQDS1/s1600/pics1+024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMXGch0EgOdNMNxbEFAeJec3IvO6Z9xqe2ADZ7Fr-pn6yd1Pn6ymvl-ZtcgHcRm8bVuoTNeB21Mlw0Siaw8OfgFMkD7mbKfEhVNyOaA6K9gUyXNk9bwY_wVFU8xafU6_D8o7GMUwquQDS1/s320/pics1+024.JPG" width="320" /></a>When I was pregnant with my first child I was a micromanaging mess. I wanted so much for her. For me. For us. I was on the hunt for information. I read books. I poured over materials to make the best choices for her. I evaluated the safety of the things she'd use, car seats, diapers, doctors, pacifiers, strollers, clothing, cribs, fabric, detergent. Trust me the list is lengthy. I wanted to make sure she was safe. Even the meaning of her name echoes that desire. Samara we named her. It means protected by God. I was all about the details of this baby I had not met, but loved. Details. They speak of love. In fact, they scream it. Whether the smallest thoughtful gesture or some grand consideration, details matter. That's what "love's got you" means. It means God's love has you covered even in the most minuscule details of your life. It means every facet of your life has been considered, planned, and counter-planned by a God who loves you. It means that nothing in your life surprises God. He says He knew you before the foundations of the world. That's a long time to plan. His love has considered the details of your life since then. It means don't worry. It means absolute rest. </div>
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I prepared for my child with as much wisdom as my human mind could understand. I still do. I pray for her. I give her advice about anything I can think of to prepare her heart and mind for this world. I try to consider the details that would spare her the most pain and make her life better. You'd probably call what I'm doing "taking responsibility." Afterall, I brought this child into the world. My planning and preparation for her life is my obligation. Don't you think God is a better parent than I am? Wouldn't He be more prepared than I could be? Don't you think He's wiser and more powerful? I can tell you without hesitation there is no comparison. He is the only true Father. A perfect parent. He created you. If you trust Him, He has an obligation to take care of you. God forbid, my child decides not to listen to me. If she leaves my house, and chooses another family, she is lost to me. The relationship cannot be repaired unless <strong><em>she</em></strong> decides to come back. But because she is still my daughter, I'd still leave the door of reconnection open. I'd still hold her share of inheritance pending her return. If I, a severely imperfect creation can do this for my child, how much more would God the Father do? I'm telling you, He'd do and has done more than we'd think or imagine to reach His children. It is then wise, safe, and in your best interest to trust Him. He knows you, and the plans He has for you. He will get you through and to where He intends you to be. Got problem you can't solve? God's got a solution, designed by Him for you, especially for that problem, and at this time. He knew it was coming. Got a path you are not sure you should take? He's the ultimate guide. What would your life look like if you lived as though you were greatly loved and considered? Can you even imagine it? What would your life be like if you lived as though love is aware of every detail in it? How would you change if you believed love has made great plans for you with the details <em>of</em> you in mind? Personality. Gifts. Family. Country. Likes. Relationships. Dislikes. Imagine all of you, all considered, all the time, all planned, and loved.</div>
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God is love. It is WHO He is. He cannot act outside of who He is. Often we believe God is our judge. It's true. He is our judge, but our judge is love. Literally LOVE is our judge. That's huge! It's a major detail that <strong><em>we</em></strong> miss. It keeps us from loving God. It keeps us from trusting Him. How do you love and serve someone you don't trust? We can't. <br />
The other day my daughter, said something that had me laughing hysterically. She recounted an experience with a group of people. The presence of God was there. She was supposed to be taking pictures. She didn't, because the moment felt sacred. She then added, "I had a feeling if I did, Jesus would hit the smite button 20 times over." This is often our view of God. He's warmed up, waiting, and ready to pounce. Then why create us? Why sacrifice yourself for us? Just to play the "smite" game? Despite what we believe the answer is no. I have life. I gave life. Life has a way of wanting to create life. It's a beautiful thing. He is life and that is what He intended. His original plan had us experiencing life fully, never questioning we were loved because we lived and walked with Love Himself. <br />
That plan was affected by our enemy. Satan. He's the one that's waiting to pounce. He falsely accuses and condemns. Interestingly enough we say of him, "the devil is in the details." Nope, he is not! He didn't create. He was created. His attention to details is limited a best. That is why his plan is to always to <strong>steal</strong>, kill, and destroy. God's plan gives life. Life is a constant generator of details, because it has anticipated that things are constantly growing and changing. Not so with destruction. Destruction only brings death. The avenues to it, are often the same, lack of self control, lust, and pride. Pride being the root of it all. It is pushes the lie that we know how to run and control our lack of control, lust filled lives. See the problem there? We are depending on the our flesh to control our flesh. Crazy, isn't it! The enemy twists and decieves us into whoppers like these. He wants us to miss the many small and mighty details of God's great love.<br />
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Sunday is Valentine's Day. We'll celebrate the way we love people in details. Flowers. Notes. Candy. Songs. Whatever. Wherever you are, I hope you will pause to remember Love Himself. God, our creator. He is the most detailed lover of them all. You are His, or you can be if you choose. You are in His sight wherever you are or whoever you belong to. Whether you view yourself as good or bad, you are redeemable. He planned your redemption, just like He planned this moment. Stop. Listen and think. Life can be without the fruitless effort of worry. It's not popular, but it's still true. God has that for you. It's<br />
His plan. It's yours, if you trust the details of your now, to the one who knows how to handle them all. Happy Valentines Day. May you KNOW the only true love- the love of God.</div>
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shanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06659628039352744864noreply@blogger.com0