'Be anxious for nothing..." ~Philippians 4:6

Monday, June 20, 2016

MONDAY THOUGHTS: IN THE FUTURE

One day, in the future, a candidate will be sure that the election is in the bag. Every poll will be in his favor. 

Three days before voters go to the polls, an unmarked package will be delivered to the campaign headquarters of his opposition. Inside, volunteers will find a dusty, homemade VHS tape of "The Maury Show". 
They will scramble to find an expert in antiquated technology--anyone who may still own a VCR. 
They will contact an elderly gentleman who was once an employee of Circuit City. 
A copy of the tape will be made and sent to the candidate's campaign advisors.  

One day before the election, the flustered candidate will hold a press conference and tearfully cite personal matters as his reason for suspending his campaign.  
A reporter will shout, "Sir, would you care to address the tape? 
Will you confirm if those screaming people are your parents? 
After Mr. Povich announced the results of the DNA test, our research tells us that the woman wearing the unusually large earrings is doing something called "twerking"? Is she your mother? The woman doing a once popular dance called "The Cabbage Patch"-- is she your late grandmother? The baby, Sir. The baby. Is that YOU? 

#shortstories

SUBSTITUTE TEACHER TALES


I found an old journal entry today. 
I haven't been able to sub this school year, and this entry—while the scenario wasn't funny at all at the time—made me laugh today:

“I hadn't uttered a single word, when a wild-eyed child shouted,
"Is you the new lie-berry teacher? What we gon' do? Huh?
Excuse me. Excuse me! I gotta go to the bafroom!
What's her name? Miss... Miss! 'Scuse me. 'Scuse me! Never mind, I'm out. Deuces!"

I stood in shock for a second, not having been able to answer any of the child’s questions before he just bolted out the door. 
The banging of the broken door was startling. 

I collected myself, and greeted the class. 

A few minutes later, a stern-faced security guard appeared at the door. I noticed there was child struggling to get out of his grasp. There was no "Excuse me", this time, just an exasperated, "Do he belong in here?"

I discovered yesterday that not even the library is as sacred a space as I perceived it to be, when I was a child. 
The library was a noble, respected, quiet place; a place of order and organization. 
The school library was a place where the world opened up for students and teachers, alike. 
The library was a distinctive, dignified place. It called for special decorum. It had its own rules.

Maybe my expectations were a bit too high, and my memories too vivid. 
I remember Mrs. Reamer's neat, clean library at Abram Simon Elementary School. 
It was on the third floor, and there was a wonderful view of the city that we could see by virtue of the large windows. 
I remember the smell of the wood and the books. 
I remember how much I loved it when she read to us. 
The library was never a noisy, out-of-control place.

When the directions are simple, is it wrong to expect compliance? 
Maybe it was unreasonable for me to think that some of the kids would behave differently in the library than they had anywhere else in the school. 
I was stunned. 
Maybe when I said, "Good Afternoon. Come in and have a seat", they thought I said "Feel free to wreck the place." 

Some kids complied, and I sincerely thanked them for being respectful, but others acted as if they'd just been freed from dungeons. 
They came in with food, footballs--and I even got hit and called a "b_ _ _ _, for daring to take a basketball away from a first grader who wouldn't stop bouncing it. They came in running, sitting on tables, fighting, crawling around on the floor, flicking the lights on and off, jumping over, and turning over chairs, rifling through papers on the counter, throwing books, and drumming on tables. 
It was as if they were possessed.

How I long for the days when an adult in the room meant something. 
Some of the kids literally don't care how they behave, or who sees them misbehaving. 
They actually boast about how weak and ineffective their parents are, when it comes to disciplining them. In their minds, they're in charge. They have no fear. They see no need to listen to anyone, and they know that consequences, with any teeth in them, are non-existent. 
"My muvah don't do nothing to me!" is a common mantra. 
I wish their "muvahs" could hear them when they're saying it with such arrogance. Maybe some household ground rules would change.

I literally just stared at one class yesterday until they settled down. A little girl commented sarcastically, "She frozen, ya'll! She frozen!”

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It's a beautiful new school. It's a beautiful library, with resources galore, but some of the kids may as well have been in a field of dirt. 

It's May. 
Were they just trying me?
Has no one taught them how they are to conduct themselves in a library? Perhaps they've just forgotten. 
One little boy just walked to a cart, and began throwing books onto the floor. 
Another went behind the librarian’s counter, and started banging on the window of the adjacent computer lab.

So, today, when a class of first graders attempted to replicate yesterday's madness, I promptly told them to line up at the door. As the line was forming, I heard whispered choruses of, "Where we goin'?" 

I walked them past the smiling principal. 
It was good to have her blessing. 
I pointed them to an exit door, and directed them to go down the stairs. 
A few of them thought we were going to the cafeteria, and look puzzled when we passed by and didn't enter. 
I led them to an exit door that led to the playground--the official, authorized place to go as berserk as one chooses.

They all stared at me. 
I extended my arms and softly said, "If you want to run, this is the place to do it--not the library." 

They ran, alright--until of course, they realized that the playground wasn't nearly as cool and comfortable as the library had been. 
One by one, they approached me while wiping sweaty brows, and begged to go back inside. 

"Okay, everyone. Line up. We're going back."

When we got to the library door, I said, "Now, let's try this again. I'd like to read a story to you. Walk in quietly, and have a seat." 

They were exhausted. Some had run themselves silly, and were happy to collapse onto the carpet. Others had stopped at the water fountains. 

I had no problem getting anyone to sit quietly this time. 

Perhaps they now have a new found appreciation for their library--if for no other reason than it's air conditioned, and not out of doors.

MONDAY THOUGHTS


I'm feeling very grateful today. 
Just thinking back on things that made you smile or laugh, is a good way to start the day. 
Rethinking your responses, and realizing you should be laughing about a lot more things, is too.

CAREGIVER DIARIES: STANDARDS


"It's summer. 
Trash pick-up has changed from two days a week, to one...and the ants are back", I said. 
The reply I got from an unexpected houseguest was was a flippant, "What ants? I haven't seen any ants." 

I guess the hundreds of ants on the plate and coffee table, proved I hadn't made it up. 
I wasn't happy. 
Ants have to eat, too, I guess. 
I can't blame them. It was a good pound cake.
 *sigh*

How hard is it to pick up a plate, take it to the kitchen and wash it?











My late aunt Lillian used to say, "I don't care if you live in a hole, it can be clean."; If it's supposed to be white, make it white. If it's supposed to shine, make it shine." 
She was also proactive about things like ants. Her house was in Louisiana. The ant beds were huge. She said if you didn't feed the ants, they wouldn't come into the house. That made sense to me then, and still does.

Frankly, I loved visiting her house. It was tidy--and not fake tidy, either. Her closets were orderly, too. Nothing was hiding underneath beds or stuffed behind closet doors. There was no need to close a door because of the monstrous, embarrassing mess that was festering on the other side.
 
Auntee Lillian was a Home Economics major during her brief stint in college. Her philosophy was that in a clean environment, you'd have no qualms about eating the food that's prepared, or using the bathroom, or just being.
As a child there were special places where I knew I could just be. They weren't grand, but they were cared for as if they were.
















My late grandmother lived in a house that had 4 rooms. For years, she didn't have modern conveniences like an electric washer and dryer, dishwasher, or vacuum cleaner but you could eat off of her floor. She rose early in the morning to do chores. She'd cook breakfast, start dinner, wash and hang laundry, burn trash, recycle cans, make beds, sweep, and sit down with a cup of coffee to read her Daily Word. She may have even killed a snake or two. By noon, she was in her rocker watching her "stories". That philosophy allowed her to relax and rest well. 
"If you get up soon in the morning and do your work, you have the rest of the day for yourself", she'd say. Because she did something every day, there was no overwhelming accumulation of dirt, grime and trash.

My Aunt Marion's house in Plaquemine was another place I loved to go. The old wooden house on Mulberry Street, and the new brick house on Meriam Street were both well kept. 

I don't know, maybe it's an old-school thing, but I grew up impacted by women who took pride their environments. It was a show of thankfulness and gratitude, I suppose. 
When you're blessed with anything, why not care for it?
















My late mother was neat, too. I still appreciate the way she kept our home, and am grateful that she passed on to me the appreciation of an orderly home (and classroom). I'm so convinced that one's best work can be done when order exists. 
Those four women had the same habit of cleaning as they cooked meals. "Clean as you go", they said. 
They didn't just let stuff stick and congeal. When the cooking was done, the kitchen was clean. All we had to do was wash the dishes, glasses, and utensils we'd used.

They didn't spend every waking moment wiping or polishing stuff, either. They didn't have to, because they didn't allow stuff to back up, or pile up. They did something each day. They handled stuff when it happened. Since they lived in their homes, they cared for them. It didn't matter who else was there. Their routine wasn't for show or company. They wanted a pleasant place for themselves. They didn't lower their standards, nor did they have a problem doing what others neglected to do. 
If you didn't know how to do it, you were taught how to do it efficiently. 

My paternal grandmother had dirt in her yard. It may sound silly, but that dirt was swept. It didn't matter if others didn't care. The women in my life did. They all said, "Don't ever come out of your house looking better than you left it. You never know how you're gonna be brought back home."
I guess that was their twist on the adage, "Put on clean underwear in case you have an accident".

I am my mother's daughter--proudly. I like cleanliness and order. I prefer it, and I will never, ever, EVER apologize for it. My mom always said, "Treat what belongs to others as if it was your own." 
That didn't mean mishandle, abuse or destroy it, it meant be respectful, careful and sensitive. She taught me, like her mother and sisters taught her, and it stuck. 

As a caregiver, it matters even more. Seniors are more susceptible to the germs of others. They need easy access and egress. They are keenly aware that there are things they can no longer do, but that doesn't mean they don't care any longer if things don't get done. Perhaps there are places in and around their homes that they can no longer access. That doesn't mean that they don't want someone to keep the trash, dust, mold and mildew at bay.

Just because there may be someone who's going to clean up, doesn't mean one should be inconsiderate. My mom used to remind us all of our "two good hands". That meant, don't observe others working to improve or beautify a thing, and sit like a blind bump on a log. 
Don't arrogantly declare, "It's not my job" and allow a situation to go from bad to worse. 
Don't act like you're too good to lend a hand. 
Don't see, or make a mess and just leave it--get up and help.
The only people who needed to be cleaned up after were either too young, or too old to do it for themselves. No one else got a pass.

I am always amazed by people who think they have a right to tear up, mess up, or break up what belongs to others, as if it's no big deal. Stuff doesn't just happen. People DO stuff that makes stuff happen, and then play dumb when they're confronted about their indifference. 
Whatever happened to:
"Leave it like you found it"; 
"If you break it, fix or replace it"; 
"If you spill it, clean it up"?; 
"If it doesn't belong to you, don't touch it"; 
"If you take it out, put it back"? 
How does trash not make it to nearby trash cans, and end up on the floor, under beds, chairs, or in between cushions? 
How do crumbs and spills remain on counters? 
How do microwaves and refrigerators look like something exploded inside and continue to be used? How do baked on; caked on; spattered on messes remain undetected on stove tops? 
How is the soap dish dirty?

I don't understand how people take such advantage of others; how they so blatantly disregard another person's property or space. What is it that makes people cop an attitude when they realize that they can't be cavalier with what belongs to someone else? How do people enter a clean space, and like a human tornado, destroy it in a matter of minutes, dare you to say anything, and when you do, THEIR feelings are hurt?

You have a right to be as slovenly and disgusting as you want to be in your own space. You don't have a right to be so in the home of someone else--I don't care who they are, or how nice they are, or who you think you are. 

Don't fool yourself into thinking that anyone enjoys and welcomes the wonderful way you junk up their space. You just can't transfer your habits, practices and preferences to another person's home. No one has to relax their standards to accommodate yours in the name of hospitality. 
Take a good look at the jaw of your host. If it's clenched and the muscles are working overtime, you might want to get that potato chip bag, wet towel, and your feet off of their sofa.

If someone generally enjoys a clean home, they probably want it to stay that way. If there are able bodied people afoot mess shouldn't just linger as if it's going to clean itself. "I'll get it in a minute", or "Ill do it later" may fly in your home. In the home of someone else, it doesn't...and no. Their choice to do it NOW doesn't mean they're obsessed, stressed, anal, uptight, or suffer from some disorder. They're just CLEAN, and there's not a darned thing wrong, strange, offensive or unusual about that.

Certainly, human beings have varying standards of cleanliness. Where there are spots, spills, trash, dust, dirt, piles, disorganization, and stench, one may see it as a pig sty, and conclude that it is all perpetuated by laziness and indifference. Another person, however, won't see any of the filth; will feel quite comfortable lounging in it, adding to it, and will deem the space "lived in". They'll wonder why you, too, can't be oblivious and comfortable surrounded by days, weeks, months and even years of accumulated trash. Make a move to clean and they'll be puzzled, annoyed, and even offended. They won't notice, however, it until you make a move to correct it. They'll sincerely want to know what you're doing and why. "Oh, you don't have to do that!" Really? Just how long do people expect you to sit in muck and mire? They don't understand what the problem is. You don't understand why they don't see (or smell) the problem--so, to keep the peace, avoid an argument, and prevent being eaten alive by ants, you clean up. Could it be that your insistence that your environment be orderly is convicting them? Is it making them reluctantly examine why they've surrendered to the chaos in theirs?

You can't and shouldn't care if your cleaning-- in a space you have to occupy--offends a slob. You just can't. If the relationship is going to deteriorate because you fully expect others to respect what's yours, perhaps that relationship needs to be reevaluated. 
Some people feel they are entitled and can do whatever they want in your space. They don't have to care about what belongs to someone else. Perhaps it's because no one has spoken up and told them otherwise. 

Make no mistake, however, that inconsiderate ways get talked about-- long after inconsiderate people are gone. It's true, and that's the problem. Instead of confronting the people who offend, people tend to vent and preach to the choir. You teach people how to treat you--and your stuff. When you're silent, they take that as permission to be ridiculously careless, and conclude that you're delighting in how comfortable and free they are.

Can people, whose standards are vastly different, peacefully inhabit the same space? At what point will a neat person stop seeing the messy person's humanity, and begin to see an enemy who's determined to make them miserable?  Sometimes, when people know something bothers you, they'll do it on purpose. Why would someone deliberately come to your home and mess it up? Are they showing you what they really think about you? Is it just to piss you off?

Even if you do book a hotel room, the fact that someone has been hired to clean up after you is not a license to ransack the place. Your next credit card statement will certainly attest to that.

Being considerate costs nothing.



MONDAY THOUGHTS: SPEAK UP


As I get older, I'm embracing confrontation, and finding the value in speaking up. 
It just quashes stuff! 
It shocks people, too, especially if you have a history of just taking stuff off of people. 
There's no more walking around with unspoken words piled on top of your heart and clogging your mind. Saying what you need to say is quite liberating! 
I feel no obligation to excuse or protect liars, fakes, gossips, or those who sow seeds of discord. 

I don't like to begin my week with uncertainty. 
I don't like to anticipate problems, but I'm just being realistic. You know when people are itching to engage you with their drama--especially people who somehow think they have authority over you, or your environment. 
Maybe it's because they've completely exhausted and lost the respect of the people in their own spaces. 

The joy is, that I've experienced divine intervention many times. 
It shows up, upends confusion, and sets everything right again. 

Sometimes, you have to speak up. Sometimes, God will do it for you--and He's so much better at it.

I like peace...and harmony...and order. 
I don't like toxic situations or messy people. 
I don't bother others. 
I mind my own business. 
I don't go looking for trouble. 
I don't start stuff. 
As a member of the "be seen but not heard" generation, I don't have to say a word, but I don't miss much. 
I've learned to trust my discernment. 
I no longer think that if I'm nice, others will be nice to me. That worked when I was a kid--not so much these AARP days.

It is important to be secure in the presence of those who are laboring under the misapprehension that they regulate or negatively affect anything in your life. 
When it comes to those who have been a consistent nuisance, you have to determine if you're going to just grin, bear, and pray for them, make yourself scarce, or finally tell them exactly what's on your mind--minus the non-Sunday School words of course...lol

Sometimes, we give too much leeway and power to people, and they perceive that we are accepting or fearful of their bullish, insensitive behavior. 
They view your silence as a sign that you are weak, afraid, insecure, or timid. They're wrong
You have an able and swift advocate who sees you, cares for you and won't allow you to be bullied.
Peace at all costs can't always be the strategy. Sometimes, when your cause is just, you have to speak up, and not care one whit about the response. In order to stop their intrusive and pushy ways, some people need to have their feelings hurt in the way that only the honest truth can do it. Truth and honesty facilitates change--even if it means some people will be exiting your life so that room can be made for those who are genuine, kind, helpful, caring, respectful, supportive, encouraging, and loyal.

GIVING

Some people will never give in secret. They need an audience. They need someone, other than the intended recipient, to know what they've given, when, where, and why. They will never give out of the kindness of their hearts. They never say, "I want to do something nice" because it's a nice thing to do. They want ammunition to keep others in check. They need to keep others tethered. They will even inflate their generosity; exaggerate or fabricate your need. They delight in telling others what they had to do for you--and the funny thing is, you neither sought them nor asked for a thing.

They will never give because giving is right, fair, or reasonable. They do it to be seen. They want praise, power, attention, control, or something to talk about. They need to feel important. Precious few conversations will be held without them bringing up what they've done for this person or that--no matter how long ago the transaction took place. Their giving is never genuine, and they always regret it. Giving is a scheme, and if it is not met with the right amount of appreciation, they will be frustrated. Frustration is, of course, the result of failed schemes.

Some people give because they want others to feel beholden, diminished, or obligated. Always on the tip of the tongue is "Look what I did for you!" It's not hard to peg those who have strings attached to their giving. They are neither discreet nor humble. What they want is a perpetual pat on the back.

It is infuriating and perplexing to a manipulative giver when you don't choose to take advantage, or fall for their cloaked scheme the way others have. When you graciously decline to accept what some people have to offer, they don't understand why. That's just how much they have magnified what they have to give, and misconstrued your need, or want of it. Don't be surprised if they insist that you accept. It's not because they're being kind or generous. It's because they don't want to be known as a liar. They've already bragged and broadcast what they were going to give to, or do for you. They've even already announced what you're supposed to do with their gift. With some people, there's always a catch. Their problem is, they never dreamed you wouldn't fall for it.
Now, how's it going to look when people find out you said, "Thanks, but no thanks"? Don't be surprised if the next lamentation you hear involves how they tried so hard to help.
Some things are blessings. Some are traps. Know the difference.

It's very, very sad when people think that the only way to have, and sustain relationships is by way of their wallets.

MONDAY THOUGHTS: BOUNDARIES


Some people have issues with one, or both of your parents, and have for a while--perhaps before you were born. 
Often, it's an in-law. 
Perhaps, they never got over the fact that your parents married. 
Perhaps, they used to be the beneficiary of material things and financial help, before your parent gained a spouse. 
Perhaps, they're still lamenting the loss of easy access, or a gravy train. Perhaps, they're just hateful, selfish, and always have been, and it has nothing to do with you at all.

Since they can't annoy the person with whom they have an unresolved issue, perhaps because that person is deceased, they'll attempt to annoy you by default. Their annoyance prompts you conclude that there was a good reason why your loved one kept his or her distance. Furthermore, there was a reason why you were shielded from these people when you were a child. What many people get wrong, is that children don't see, hear, and absorb what's going on around them. They absolutely DO.

As the offspring of the person they resent, they have always resented you. You can see it in their eyes, and hear it in their voices. There's no love— just envy and condescension. 
When they come around, their first order of business is to show you who they are; what rights they have. 
The problem with some people, is that they've never been checked. They don't respect boundaries, they're pushy, critical, annoying, sarcastic, tactless, and curt. They truly believe that what's yours, is theirs. 
If they could relegate you to some lowly state, or make you disappear, they would. Instead, they cause conflict at every turn, in their attempt to topple you from the perch they built for you in their minds--the perch on which they think they should stand. You have no reason to trust them. Their purpose for coming around is never without malicious intent. When you know that, you won't be blindsided. They can make as much mess and noise as they want, but it won't matter. It is a miserable, misguided individual who comes into another person's space and thinks it's permissible, funny or endearing to muck it up.

Their problem with you, is your identity. You are an extension of the person with whom they had a beef. Don't even try to rationalize it all. Don't break your neck trying to appease people who are filled with hate.  Don't ever take on other people's fights, either. Don't even try to defend or explain issues you know nothing about. Don't absorb negative energy. People can only try to visit their dysfunction on you.They can transfer their problems with other people onto you all they want, but you don't have to accept it. They'll instigate a confrontation, where you're merely a substitute for someone else. You don't have to entertain any of it. Engaging them is not worth the energy. Your politeness and indifference drives them mad.
 
Perhaps you couldn't do anything about meddling, strife-loving relatives when you were a child, but you're not a child any more. You can speak up now, and your boundaries are to be respected—no exceptions. The wonderful thing, is that you have an ally who inspired a follower of his to write, "Be anxious for nothing...". The last time I checked, "nothing" still means nothing. 
Maintain your peace, no matter who's plotting to raise hell in your presence. They'll burn in the very fire they kindle.

The enemy is always scheming, and his strategy is rarely new. Who he uses, matters. He won't pick some random person. It will be someone whose willingness to be his ally has the potential to cause irreparable damage--someone who should be in your corner, but isn't. When it is in someone's interest to side with the devil, they foolishly will--and he'll make a bigger fool of them every time. Loyalty is not his strong suit. Remember Eve?

When the desired result of the enemy's scheme is not achieved, don't be surprised if he lies low for a while, regroups, and tries again-- using the same people. What's sad, is that some people are so invested in upsetting the peace and harmony that you enjoy, that they don't see the toll their relentlessness scheming is  taking on themselves, and their own families. Their mission to make you miserable has removed any trace of beauty or pleasantness from their own faces. Where they reside is a haven of dysfunction, that is too much for them to bear. The tranquility and order you enjoy, infuriates them and compels them to come and try to dismantle it.  How you respond to people matters. Don't give anyone the satisfaction of thinking you've forgotten how God skillfully and thoroughly handles annoying situations, and people on your behalf. You don't have to say a cross word, or lift a violent hand. Continue to allow God to handle it and them. Cast all cares, and don't go taking them back. 
Notice what a good job God is doing? Why would you intervene? Give everything to the Lord in prayer, and relax. Don't dim your light or lower your standards. Don't abandon your post. Don't surrender to troublemakers. 

Nuisances want to engage you in order to rattle you, but they find that they don't like light. Expect them to push buttons. You need never respond. Except perhaps to laugh, or pray for them. When you stand and keep shining, it will expose them and their schemes. They will run with their pointy tails between their legs every time. 

Fortify your boundaries.
Busybodies will eventually tire of trying to move the unmovable. Just watch and wait.