WEDNESDAY THOUGHTS : CHARACTER

 “You’re not who I thought you were”, can be an apologetic compliment, or a disappointment-laced insult.

No one is perfect. No one. There’s always space for grace, understanding, and forgiveness. People continuously show you who they are, however, and there comes a pivotal point, where you simply must believe them—no matter how long you’ve known them. Excusing their actions and rhetoric is no longer an option. You see how they move; how they lean. You notice the causes they enthusiastically champion, as well as that to which they seem oblivious, and turn a blind eye. ARE they being neutral, objective, and fair, or have they cashed a mighty, big check?

There’s always a last straw, where consideration is possible, (everyone has a right to their opinions), but respect and friendship are not. Are they an enemy? No. But you realize that you shouldn’t trust them any farther than you can throw them. There are some topics you need not broach with them. They are committed to misunderstanding and error. Spare yourself the exhaustion.

For whatever reason, be it upbringing, indoctrination, ignorance, denial, opportunism, compromise, or insanity, they are entrenched in their beliefs. It’s when they try to insert a just God into their agendas and arguments, as if He’s staunchly on their side, that the manipulation is complete—or the delusion. 

There was an old song: “You can’t make me doubt Him. I know too much about Him. You can’t make me doubt Him, in my heart…”

That applies to people, too. Sometimes, knowing too much is a gift. Your own brain won’t let you be stupid, or make excuses for what you know is craziness.

You don’t want to think that people are so irreparably broken, deeply hurt, or cunning that they’ll defend someone or something that is wholly unacceptable, immoral, destructive, or inhumane, but they most certainly do, and will.

You act on, defend, or stand up for what you know; what you see with your own eyes, and hear with your own ears. What you have experienced, firsthand, has serious implications. It colors your perceptions.

Sometimes, it becomes clear that, either we aren’t seeing, hearing, or experiencing the same things, or there’s a giant, enormous payoff for ignoring reality, cosigning hatred and bigotry, spitting in the faces of ancestors, denying history, shunning identity, promoting oppression, ignoring wrongdoing, betraying faith, misrepresenting God, lying to oneself, and trying to convince others that evil is good, lies are the truth, and wrong is right.

What DO people get for tarnishing their good names, ignoring their own interests, and aligning with…well…evil? Is it worth it? Has it ever been? History says a resounding, “No”.

#electionday

#midterms

#politics

#currentevents

TUESDAY THOUGHTS : DISRUPTION

There was always that one kid in class, who sincerely thought he or she was doing a good, necessary thing. “Oooooo! Imma telllllll! Awwwww! Miss __________, he said ________________!

Never mind the teacher’s train of thought, or the subject matter at hand. They wanted to see a show that included swift punishment. They wanted the teacher to be as appalled and distracted as they were. Unfortunately, for them, they never got the response they wanted. There was never praise, thanks, or gratitude for their diligence, or commitment to classroom decorum. There was just a cold stare, and frustration that something insignificant or ignorant was, once again, getting more attention than it deserved. 

Suddenly, the tattler, not the accused disrupter (who always vehemently denied saying or doing anything), was the object of the teacher’s wrath. The teacher would deal with the alleged disrupter, later. They probably hadn’t done their homework, weren’t ready for the quiz, or weren’t prepared to read. The tattler, however, got immediate rebuke. Somehow, his or her action—breaking the flow of the lesson, by pointing out idiocy—was louder, and more startling and offensive than anything anyone else may have done. The tattler learned that amplifying and platforming nonsense was a no-no. 

The teacher was livid.

“I heard it, but why are you so eager to repeat it? Why would you interrupt class with that foolishness? Now, you're being disruptive! Wasn’t it bad enough when HE said it? We ALL heard him! What makes you think we needed to hear it AGAIN? Notice how everyone else just ignored him? Why couldn't you? It was stupid and inappropriate when HE said it! Now, you sound crazy, too! You SHOULD be paying attention to the lesson! Can you repeat THAT?"

The tattler never understood why his or her behavior was so awful. Why was the teacher so mad? He or she would just shrink in his or her seat, pouting. “I was just trying to tell you! Next time, I’m not gonna say anything!”

“Good", said the teacher. "That would be best. If you have something to say in the future, make sure it applies to the lesson.”

The bewildered, humiliated tattler never understood that he or she was doing the work of the disrupter. There was no contribution, just theft. Not all attention-seeking was rewarded. Nonsense didn’t need help. Time was wasted. Class was off track. The teacher was flustered. Students who'd been enjoying the lesson were annoyed. Important information took a back seat to crudeness. 

Fortunately, the disruption would only be temporary. The fool in the room, and the one who inadvertently platformed him, were resoundingly silenced. Hopefully, both had learned a lesson.

MONDAY THOUGHTS: EATS

 

I was having a phone conversation with my big sister, this afternoon, about my recent issues with sliced bread. The last loaf I'd bought was so strange, I found myself on YouTube looking for an explanation as to why one of my favorite foods, since childhood, seemed to be turning on me. It certainly looked like bread, but that was it.

"Is it me?" I asked her. " Am I just getting old, and my taste buds are on the blink?  Have bread recipes changed? Have ingredients changed? I used to love bread! Why does it taste so bland these days? What's up with the spongy texture, that toasting only makes worse? Was bread only good for making French toast, from now on? After all, it is what we used to do with stale bread, back in the day".

She said she'd experienced the same. 

"No. You're not imagining things. Companies are definitely cutting corners, and the additives don't help. Have you thought about making your own?" We both laughed at that prospect. Was that the only solution? What about that Ezekiel bread? Or Dave's? A loaf of either one of those brands cost more than a gallon of gas.

"Well, you do get what you pay for", she said.

Then, my doorbell rang. It was a delivery that she'd quietly ordered for me as we talked. Three different kinds of bread were in the bag: A French baguette, Chiabatta, and a loaf of classic white. 

I thanked her, and told her how thoughtful it was. I'd planned to make soup for dinner, and a good piece of garlic bread is always a nice addition, but my old go-to whole wheat brands, I used to toss in the oven, had become a bit of a disappointment. Bread was always a staple for as long as I could remember, and I had not a slice in my kitchen.

I think I'll be getting my bread from Panera from now on. The texture and aroma, I remember, was there. It was delicious, unlike the weird, spongy, tasteless, odorless stuff that made me wonder if, perhaps, I needed to get a bread maker, and learn how to make it from scratch. 

Sisters rock.

#timetobreakbread

SUNDAY THOUGHTS: TELEVISION