The Real Deal

I oftentimes like to start my day listening to various teachers of the Word for whom I have respect. I say "listen" because, although they're actually television broadcasts, I sometimes am not actually viewing them. Sometimes, I'm in bed going through the waking up process; sometimes I'm just in another room.

This morning, as I was in another room, I heard the speaker I'd been listening to ending their program. I couldn't remember who came on next, so I just left it on. The speaker who followed (who shares a denominator common to most, that of being viewer-supported) proceeded to expound on a "blessing opportunity." Now, this opportunity "wasn't for everyone." It was just for a "select few" who felt compelled by God to participate. That participation would involve "sowing a seed" into his ministry. He then upped the ante a bit. Where these lower level participants of a double-digit amount were promised a blessing for their gift, the high rollers (I mean givers) of a specified four-digit amount would be really blessed.

I continued to listen to see how far he'd go with it. He went to the extent of using his entire 30 minutes of air time. Wow. His program ended, and I heard another voice with which I've recently become familiar. This guy is always hustling, I mean soliciting, or rather expounding on "blessing opportunities." And today was no different. Realizing that (at this point) I'd definitely had enough, I finally went into my bedroom and turned the television off.

Do I believe in giving to worthwhile ministries and charities? Absolutely! Once researched and vetted, giving to worthy causes is (to me) an absolutely lofty goal. Above and beyond that, I believe in tithing; that the first 10% of my income belongs to God and should be returned to Him (via giving to my home church) prior to any other giving or expenditures.

But, I couldn't help but think of that old movie, "Miracle on 34th Street." And I mean the really old, black & white version. The main theme was that the genuine Santa wasn't concerned as much with the bottom line of his employer, Macy's Department Store. He was concerned that children fully enjoy the Christmas season. He didn't see his role as that of being Macy's ambassador but of espousing the true meaning of Christmas. As the parents (who were Macy's highly sought after customers) realized the heart attitude that motivated his advice, it engendered good will toward Macy's. And what the Macy's executives then realized was that, ultimately, their bottom line improved as they expanded their vision.

So, what do you think the odds are that one day one of these television "preachers" will say the following:

"God has revealed to me an opportunity for all who wish to participate to receive a special blessing. I want you to give your best offering, a sacrificial offering, to your local church or the charity of your choice! Let me pray for you..."

Tag!

I place great significance on names.

When I became responsible for my (former) church's clothing ministry, I named it DORCAS (Dedicated Organizers of Recycled Clothing and Shoes).

When I was a part of a local homeschool support group, I launched (and won) a naming contest. The wining entry: CHAMPS (Christian Homeschoolers Achieving Maximum Potential Scholastically).

I've always been in favor of knowing the actual name of a physical condition (when possible) to enable me to use that name in prayer and confessions.

So, yes, I changed the name of this blog. Though I liked the original title, Using the Gray Matters, I did want to go in a more positive direction. Hence, the blog and the URL are now the same.

Ta-da: As I Always Say!

Who's Using?

I started this blog as an outlet for my frustration at the stupidity of people as a whole. That sounds harsh (even to me) but it's true. It was (and is) astounding to me how some things seem so obvious, yet so much of the populace seems to live in total oblivion.

Today Joyce Meyer reiterated one of my favorite quotes: Everywhere you go, there you are. It reminded me that my mind is always where I am. And so is my heart.

How about if I used those two God-given tools to consider someone else's POV sometime? Okay, BTDT, on occasion. That's where the mind part leaves off. So, how about if I then let the heart kick in and actually (watch out; it's coming).... EXTEND THEM SOME MERCY!

The Beatitudes were the Scripture reading for the fast today. Talk about a sock in the eye! Five minutes before reading it, I'd called a guy I was attempting to speak with (laryngitis) over the phone a fool. Not to his (virtual) face, of course. Just in conversation. Good thing I repented before I got to that verse!

If I could find it within myself (and it is there) to willfully choose the mercy option, to always (big word) give people the benefit of the doubt, how much more peaceful would my own existence be?

But then I might actually have to change the name of this blog...

Cliche Alert: Time Flies

Indeed, it does.

I think I've just about resolved that people aren't purposely stupid, mean or evil. Shocker: everybody just isn't wired to be logical. :sigh: How annoying!

Some stuff isn't logic, though. Some stuff is just paying attention.

For example, navigating in traffic. It takes just a minuscule amount of observation to determine which lane is moving fastest, who's coming up on you the quickest, which car you're approaching more rapidly. Come on. It's not that hard. And if it is, let's make it simple.

Get out of my way.

The Cookie Deal

I currently have three packages of cookies in my house. As far as I know. I also have at least three packages of chocolate. I think. This is not counting the Valentine's Day Doves that I just finished like a week or so ago. In other words, I am confessing to being a snack hoarder. Based on what some others have told me, I'm not exactly a devourer. By that I mean, I'm not quick to eat all this stuff. I just like having it around. Especially the chocolate. It definitely makes me feel powerful to have a bit of that around. Two of the bags of chocolate are unopened. Same for the cookies. One of each I've been working on for over a month, I think. So, what's the deal?

A random comment I made to a co-worker the other day finally clued me in. He's a young man in his early 20's with the accompanying appetite. We were discussing a meal we'd had recently at work and the ensuing leftovers. I was putting something in my locker, and he was in search of grub. I said something to him about making sure he got whatever it was he was looking for before somebody else ate it. I referenced remembering that feeling from when I was a kid and knowing I had to "get mine" before my sisters ate it all up.

Eureka! Light bulb moment. I don't know for sure that I'd ever really realized just how significant that was to me. My mother was pretty broke when we were growing up, so snacks weren't exactly at the top of her list. But when she did buy some, you knew you'd better hurry up and eat whatever it was. It wasn't uncommon with cookies (for example) for her to buy a box and the whole thing would get eaten in one day.

So, I'm holding on to my cookies. And my chocolate. If you know what's good for you, I wouldn't advise you to try to sneak any!!!

The Closest I Ever Want to be to Another Cat

For lo these many years, I've wanted to know the words to a song I liked as a child. I knew some of the words. In fact, I knew most of them. It was just a couple of verses near the end that I just couldn't recall. I remembered that it was also a favorite of my sister, Tanya, but I just never could seem to ask her whenever I talked to her. The fact that she's quite a talker may also have contributed to my lapse of memory. A part of me also hesitated, though, because I inwardly believed that if she didn't remember, I'd have no other recourse.

The longing for these lyrics pre-dated the advent of the www (hard to imagine). As the web became more popular, simple and accessible, I'd occasionally have the thought that therein might lie my solution. But I always sort of pooh-poohed that notion. After all, my childhood was a long time ago. Well not that long. And it was probably quite an obscure song. Also the aforementioned amnesia always seemed to afflict me when I was online as well.

Well, the other day the amnesia seemed to fade. I was actually online and recollecting at the same time. But then came the paralyzing fear. What if it were true that my childhood was so long ago and my song was so obscure and... I rebuked that fear and googled that song! And I found it. There were my long lost lyrics to "Senor Don Gato!" I was so happy! I sat there singing every last word from the screen, with a big silly grin on my face! I sighed with contentment, having achieved a long-desired end.

Yeah, that's close enough for me...

Lessons From the Valley

I've been waiting and waiting. I remember a gospel song that talked about "an uncloudy day." Gospel songs are good for making up new words. But you got the message.

I've been waiting for a pain-free day to talk about the lessons I've learned. I wanted to be able to speak in the past tense. Even if it was only for a day. That hasn't happened. So, okay - I've still learned (and am re-learning) some things.

God loves me. He knows I'm imperfect. He knows I'm immensely challenged by trust issues. And He loves me anyway.

Even in the worst pain, He's still there. This experience has been almost indescribable. Though anybody who's close to me knows I sure have tried. It's like nothing I ever imagined. But even at the worst, He was there. Sometimes I could only confess the Word in my head. Sometimes I confessed the Word out loud while my head was screaming, "I can't take this." But He was there. Sometimes I've felt outright crazy. He was still there.

And I don't mean He was there in a passive sense. I hate wimpy Jesus depictions. That's one thing I loved about "The Passion of the Christ." Even a movie critic's review I read described him as the buffest Jesus he'd ever seen. God is strong. But He wasn't with me strong and passive. I felt that strength flow into me. He upheld me. And still does. He's getting me through.

So, I'm not camping out in this valley. I'm not laying a foundation or even pitching a tent. I don't know what lies ahead. But one of the first Scriptures I ever learned as a little girl was Psalm 23 (KJV). "Yea, though I walk through the valley..."

Me and Jesus (you heard) are walking THROUGH. The valley of pain is not my permanent address.