GET UP MOODY!

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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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:

“GET UP!!!”                                        

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.

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. Good is possible. 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.

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. 

  

Bold Enough

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 Unrest 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.

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.

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.

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.

And so as the unrest continues in the streets, and people urge me to fight against "social injustice," I choose to fight for 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 chose inequality, and gave His life so that all 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.

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.

Peace

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.

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.

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 I just thought I’d share with you where I find my true source of peace. Jesus. Nothing, and no-one else compares.

Secrets

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."
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.

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.

 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.

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. All 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...?"
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.

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.

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.

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 bidding. Not the other way around.

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.

Accused an Punished For Me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2wB_LPcD34

I was a voice in that crowd.
My actions screamed consent.
Loud. Bold. I was proud.
Calling back in time,
Crucify Him! Crucify Him! CRUCIFY HIM!

I chose Barabbas that day.
Rebellion no stranger to me.
Defiant. Brazen. Pride exalted.
I yelled approval for evil above the masses,
I choose sin! I choose sin. I CHOOSE SIN!

He was silent that day for me.
The Word, His words births galaxies,
Wrecks enemies.
Defending Himself would render me guilty.
Love was silent that day for me.
His silence was for me.
His silence set me free.

He was accused and punished for me
Lies aimed at the flawless.
Hatred in my heart.
I wielded the whip of brutality
With precision and skill
A thirst for pain. A hunger to kill.

My guilt was the force behind the nails.
His blood on my hands.
Ungrateful. Violent. Dishonest.
I chose acceptance over righteousness.
I offered Him no comfort in His suffering.
Innocence was rejected by me.
Insulted by me. I denied by me. Betrayed by me.

I was dead.
And in my condemned state
Satan held my proxy.
I jeered. I mocked.
I belittled love in the process of saving my life!

Still, He remained faithful to His goodness.
He laid aside purity, nobility and ability.
Endured the cross. Disregarded shame.
Embodied humility.
Eyes fixed on joy to come.
The author and finisher of faith.
Delivered the hope of glory.

He gave justice all it demanded.
His punishment the total price of my innocence.
Mercy and grace flowed from the veins of the blameless.
His blood is life! The rescue of my soul.
I was blind. I was His enemy
He pardoned my treachery. My ignorance. My hypocrisy
Absolved by the divine
Made new by the immaculate. A matchless lamb.
The ultimate servant. An unconquerable king.

It's not by works that I have done.
I am the best of the Pharisees
Supposing if Jesus were here today,
I'd offer dissent to injustice.
I'd be a voice for Him.

He is here today. Here now.
How often I fail to speak. To stand.
Instead, seizing every opportunity to advance my temporal kingdom,
Except the gift provides the courage, and the Spirit provides wisdom-
I fail disastrously. Grievously. Thoroughly.
Always!

I stood convicted in a sea of souls.
God stepped in front for me.
I am the fruit of the grisly cross.
He bore the guilt. I was lost.
Time and distance made my deeds no less
Sinners and soldiers are the same.
My actions gave evil its cause,
His actions gave me His name.
He became that vile thing I was proven to be.
I was the sin. Now I am free.
He was accused and punished for me.

Hot dog or Hot dog sandwich?

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.

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.

Settle this for us. What say ye? A "hot dog," or a "hot dog sandwich?" Hint: correct answer written in bold.

"Auto-incorrect."

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.
"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.

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.
"You don't look like a Paul. You look more like a Jason, that's what we'll call you from now on. Poor "Jason" then has to remind me repeatedly of his actual name to retrain my thinking.

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."
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.
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.
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.

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.

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."

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.
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.

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.
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 all he wanted us to see.  He simply wanted us to know the source of the fruit, the tree.
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 know the tree.

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.
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, just call them by their names. Hopefully, you remember what it is. 

It Came to Pass...

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 will work for it.

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.

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 enemies 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. 

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..." 

Say what now? That's a lie from her father's side of the gene pool. We play to win!

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.

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:

"Why are you crying over circumstances that will change?" 

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.."

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. 

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.

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.
 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.

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 no 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.
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.  

 *For the sake of my reputation, this post will self-destruct... 

Braving COVID-19"

I hate 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:

• 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. *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.

• 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. 

• 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 why 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.

• 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.  

• 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.

• 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 "meanager" 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. Really, 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.

• 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!

• 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...

• Consider faith. Nothing reminds us of our humanity like a massive disaster, or say a pandemic. Put real thought into faith. What do you 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.

• 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.

• 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. 

• 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.

• 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.

• 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.

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. 

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. 

Love and Something Unlike it

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.

All things considered; love is still 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?

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 also revealed what love looks like. He paints this picture of the all-encompassing. Love is the offering of everything you have.

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.

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.

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.

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.
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.

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.

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.

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?
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.

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."

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.

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

Keto Cheeto

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 forever. 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. 

A confession: I'm not a diet person. Many years ago I tried the Slim Fast Diet. Remember those things? A 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.

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. 

To complicate matters, I have a very unhealthy 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

my reward, and a relaxation technique. It's cheesy therapy in a bag.
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. 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. 
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.

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." 
It's safe to say that I am resigned to mostly 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.

"Power Couple"

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. 

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.

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.
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.
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.
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.

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 and 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?

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."

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.

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."

"Smile!"

The following is a public service announcement: 

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.  

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. 

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.  

Just stop all smiling advice period. Let nature communicate this. It will be okay. Humanity can handle these things without input.  

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. 

Pet the Dog

I did not want to do it.  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.

Okay, so it was more than that. It was arm twisting.

In one of our conversations, my daughter casually threatened 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.

Thankfully, the dog was found. Unfortunately, it was found by 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.  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.

"The Alliance and their first dog, Star

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.

NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

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.

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.”

I ignored it. Crazy.
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! Isn’t it bad enough that the treaty has been violated, and I’m left to care for a pet I did not want?
"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.

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.  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.  

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.
No matter how small, life can only come from another source of life.

I believe that source is God. "In Him was the light of men."  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.
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. 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.

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.
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.

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.

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.

I continue to "pet the dog." It has had a profound impact on my humanity.