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

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

PEACEFUL DAY


“And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard his word. But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me. And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things:” 
Luke 10:39-41

There have been times when, in the midst of a task I wondered:
1. Why do I have to do this again?
2. Where are the countless others who can do the same thing?
3. Why aren’t others chastened for their lack of service, availability, and commitment?
4. Am I being used or misused? What have I gotten myself into?
5. What is signified by my willingness to serve?
6. Why can’t others see the need to help?
7. What would happen if I say "No", or stop altogether?

Those questions racing around in your head point to truth. Either your motives for doing a thing aren’t pure, you’re experiencing self imposed burn-out, it’s time to ask for the help you need, or you’re just a little full of yourself and need to take a nap. When you fool around and prove yourself competent at a thing, it can be a mixed blessing. Being assigned a task, and having the natural ability to accomplish it is one thing.  Taking on a task and having the will and wherewithal to complete it is another. Assuming a job, and finding out that it may require more helping hands than your own might be challenging, but it doesn’t have to be a source of intimidation. It certainly shouldn’t reduce you to becoming a tantrum-throwing tattle tale. 
In the passage of scripture, we aren’t told that Martha’s duties were frivolous. Whatever she was doing was probably valid. Nor are we told that Mary was prone to fits of laziness. What we do see, is someone whose attitude toward her work was in need of a little adjustment. It was her attitude that caused Jesus to essentially tell her to get a grip.
Often, we make the mistake of perceiving that our particular task or expertise is more important, preferred, needed, or pressing. What is this need to turn everything into a competition? Could it be approval that we truly seek? As we serve, are we secretly looking for validation, or even a simple thank you? Are we ever evaluating why we serve, and who we represent?Is it a good idea to do so?

 The levels of commitment of individuals are evaluated often. It doesn’t require some lengthy questionnaire. Just think about the number of times you hear, “I can’t do it”, “I’m sorry, I have another engagement”, “I have a standing appointment on that day”, “I have to work”, or any of a host of excuses--valid or otherwise. It’s not difficult to see who makes up the core workers in front of, and behind the scenes. They’re the people you see all of the time, and if they’re missing, you really do miss them. Does this imply that there’s no one else capable of doing their jobs? Of course not! We have a tendency to stick with what has been proven. We gravitate toward the things and people we trust. We’re choosy, for example, about whose cakes or pies we’ll eat. We go to restaurants and look for our favorite waiters and waitresses. We’re loyal to a particular dry cleaner, plumber, doctor, mechanic, or beautician. Based on past experience, we gravitate to what, or who works best for us, and we’re not often eager to change.
I’ve heard people make the statement that a small percentage of people are always doing the lions’ share of the work in any organization. Sometimes I wonder if that’s the case because some people don’t really want help, and perhaps, without even knowing it, they chase good help away. A new person on a task is one thing. A competent new person can be looked upon as threatening. Shouldn’t we, however, be always about the work of mentoring and grooming others to continue the work? Just as there is enough work to go around, there’s certainly enough praise! 
We simply must be sure that our service is not questionable. Someone said that "the road to hell is paved with good intentions", but good intentions are not necessarily bad. If the intents of our hearts are understood by those with whom we work, everyone will be motivated to work in concert. When our intentions are understood, there is no room for skepticism, doubt or impure motives. When we work on one accord, and with one mind, we can create a powerful atmosphere! 
Imagine if Judas had helped Mary to anoint Jesus instead of berating her action and calling it a waste. Imagine if he could have been able to see the purity of her actions, and understand her intentions! Mary sought an opportunity to serve and found it. Judas acted as if he was being somehow inconvenienced by the service that Jesus was given. Mary was not pampering him, or manipulating him for her own personal gain. Mary valued the Lord. He needed to be served in that way. In her eyes, nothing she could have done for him would have been a waste. What she did was necessary and proper. Judas could not see the significance of her actions because he had reduced Jesus to an earthly king who was dispensable. To him, Jesus was a commodity by which he could personally achieve financial gain. He never realized that Mary was serving a man who is the greatest example of a true servant.
When we serve, attitude is everything.

REVELATION 2:3-5


GOD: “But you walked away from your first love—WHY?"
CHILD: "Well Lord, you know. HE did this, and SHE said that, and THEY tried the other, and THAT didn't happen, and the other DID happen...yada yada...and that LAST thing? Whew! Now Lord, even YOU know THAT wasn't right...knocked the wind right out of me!" 
GOD: "What’s going on with you, anyway?"
CHILD: "I tried, honest I did, but I'm really, really, REALLY tired. I just want to sit here for a while." 
GOD: "Do you have ANY idea how far you’ve fallen?"
CHILD: "My head hurts a little. My heart, too. I can't say that I know WHERE I am. I was trying to carry too much stuff. I'm a little banged up, so I must have hit SOMETHING, or tripped over something, but no--not really. I don't know."
GOD: "A Lucifer fall!"
CHILD: "LUCIFER? Whoa!!! Come on. THAT far? That's cold, Jesus."
GOD: “Turn back!" 
CHILD: "Okay. I'm a little disoriented, so could you point me in the right direction, please?"
GOD:  "Recover your dear, early love."
CHILD:  "Awww...I vaguely remember it-- before the giants showed up. You mean it still WANTS me? Like THIS? All used and broken? Do I have to dress up or something?"
GOD: "No time to waste, for I’m well on my way to removing your light from the golden circle."
CHILD: "Oh snap! Don't do THAT. Wait! You mean it's still there? There's some oil left? Oh. My bad...wasting time. THAT way? Okay. Thanks. You don't have to tell me twice, Jesus." 
 

WEDNESDAY THOUGHTS: IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD



















Years ago, the Bellevue community, in far SW, DC was the focus of a government-led beautification project. The new library on Atlantic Street makes me wonder if there's a renewed interest, once again.

What's been playing out on one street, however, speaks to one of the reasons people abandon neighborhoods, and flee to the suburbs---only, perhaps, to find that there are people living there who don't care, either.

What's wrong with wanting the inside AND outside of your home to be pleasant, clean, and attractive?
 

Have you ever seen the side of a sidewalk? 
Residents on the South side of Galveston Street have been looking at it, and the underside for years, because the easement was never filled with new sod. 
They've also been watching as residents of the Wingate Garden Apartments and hi-rise, enter the broken gate, use the lawn as a short-cut, trample the grass, and scale the fence that borders the property. 
Now, when it rains, the dirt turns to mud, rolls down to the gate entrance, collects there, and ends up on the bottoms of every pedestrian's shoes.

Sadly, the residents of Friendship Square have been watching their condo services slowly disappear, one after another. 
Until a few weeks ago, they were getting nowhere, in resolving a hoarding situation (multiple cats included) that was exposed in 2006. 
Representatives from the police and fire departments, social services, The Humane Society, Washington Gas, Office of Aging, and condominium cleaning services, have all been aware of the situation since then. It's been reported, inquired about, and nothing had been done. Residents have been taking turns disinfecting and deodorizing the stairwell.
 
Each summer, the stench has been horrific, requiring residents to run their A/Cs around the clock. 
In winter, the stairwell windows must remain open. In a perfect world, the residents should now have stock in Clorox, Lysol, Pine-sol, Glade, and Arm and Hammer. 

When you reside in a place, any place, you shouldn't have a problem cleaning, but it gets a bit ridiculous when you find yourself constantly cleaning up behind able-bodied adults.
 
I will never understand why people who can't, or won't adequately care for their pets, think that others should endure the odor, and cheerfully understand. You're a liar if you say you're an animal lover, but allow your pet to live in squalor.

On Monday, the noise of the contents of heavy bags being dragged down three flights of stairs, reminded me of the decision someone made, years ago, to tar the roof of the now closed Patricia Roberts Harris Educational Center, while school was in session

Did it not occur to anyone that the situation was hazardous? 
Did no one consider what the workers would be handling, or what conditions they were walking into? Did anyone think to notify neighbors, and give them a chance to spray, bomb, suit up, don masks, or leave the premises altogether?

I know I heard a garbage truck around midnight last night. I was so relieved. I doubt if I've ever considered the sound of a garbage truck to be particularly musical, but that one was. 
Finally, the garbage hauled out of the unit on the third floor, and the stench that came along with it, would be gone. 
I opened the blinds this morning, and looked outside. I saw that the sanitation contractors only took what was in the dumpsters. They were obviously not prepared for the load on the lawn, so it remained there all night, and was saturated by the rain.

I wanted to cry when I opened the blinds, and saw that mountain of bags, still sitting there like a foul welcome wagon. 
I got dressed, grabbed my phone, and went outside. 
I was trying so hard not to be angry. 
I was trying to have faith in systems, and processes, and chains of command, but hearing, 
"I don't know." or 
"There's nothing we can do.", or 
"There's no money", or 
"It's not that bad", or 
"Sorry about that", or 
"We don't handle that. Call so and so....", gets old after a while. 

I'm a little weary of people with titles, positions, and websites, that say they are supposed to provide certain services, but they prove to be woefully incompetent and ineffective.
WHY did it take 8 years?

Today, I shamefully wished for eminent domain. 
I wished, for a minute, that the District of Columbia government would just seize the property. 
I wished that some wealthy developer would come and make an offer.

There are four senior citizens, and two children under the age of 7 living in the building. 
No one should have to put up with another person's filth. 
One ought to take pride in one's community, whether it is gated or not.

Since 2006, the conditions at Friendship Square have fluctuated. 
There have been times of daylight interspersed. 
They should be the rule, not the exception. 
No amount of remodeling, or fresh paint can affect people's hearts and habits, if being nasty is what they prefer. 
It's hard to convince some people that, when you live in an apartment or condo community, everything you do is going to affect someone else. 
How hard you walk across the floor, how loudly you play your music or adjust your television volume, how you dispose of trash, how you park your car, how you care for your pet, how and what you cook, how much you use utilities...EVERYTHING affects someone else, and so, consideration, respect for others, and cleanliness have to be among the priorities of an apartment or condo resident.

Between people using and selling drugs, smoking in the hallway, breaking into the laundry room, destroying washers and driers, breaking the doors and gate, allowing children and pets to destroy property, and robbing neighbors, it gets discouraging.

Moving out CAN'T be the only option. It just can't. 
It CAN be better. 
Something CAN be done. 
It doesn't have to be this way. 
Clean, safe, and neat, are not unreasonable expectations.

I don't want to start repeating or believing what "THEY" say. I know the stereotypes aren't true.
Black communities CAN have nice things. 
Black people DO care. 
Black people don't tear up EVERYTHING. 
Black people DO care about their neighbors. 
Black people DO clean. 
Black people DON'T just let neighborhoods go to pot, and then complain when other ethnic groups move in and beautify them. 
Black people DO like grass-- on the lawn, and next to the sidewalk.

My grandmother used to say, "You can live in a hole, but it can be clean, Baby." 
Sometimes, we lament not having the money to do things, when the issue simply requires a little soap and water; a mop or broom; a little elbow grease, and a caring attitude. 
What happened to the lessons every mother taught? If you break it, fix it. 
If you dirty it, clean it. 
If you can't do it, step aside and allow someone who can to get it done.

Yesterday, when it was clear that no one was coming to do it (again), I went into the stairwell and started sweeping. A neighbor said sarcastically, "Somebody is getting paid to do that". 
I wanted to ask her when the imaginary cleaning fairy was going to show up, but I just kept sweeping, and soon realized I was doing my mask-wearing self more harm than good. 
What was I breathing in? 
What had we ALL been breathing in? 
When I made it to the ground level, another neighbor looked at me and said, "Sweetheart, your eyes are watering."
I admit, I thought it. Yep. I played the race card. Would the clean up have been more efficiently and swiftly handled, if we were a  condominium community of a different persuasion? 

On Monday morning, 4 or 5 Latino people wearing street clothes, emerged from a standard, unmarked vehicle. Not one of them was prepared. 
They should have turned, and run screaming in terror, back to their car. 
No masks. 
No hats. 
Only a couple had gloves, and they looked like the kind that come with a box of hair dye. 
They dragged, threw, and burst bags in the stairwell, from around 8 AM until 3:15 PM Monday afternoon. 
The mud, trash, and debris they left behind, made me almost wish they had never come. 
They just left all of the bags on the lawn when they finished, then dusted themselves off, entered their car, and drove away. 
No one bothered to say what would happen next. 
The stairwell smelled like a toilet, and roaches were congregating in the ceiling, fleeing from a neighbor's frantic Raid spraying. 
It's February, and the stairwell windows were wide open. 
Then it started to rain. 

I know now why people snap.

If we were a different community, would our condo community have been descended upon by professionally trained OSHA workers wearing regulation haz-mat gear? 
Would they have been carrying industrial equipment from a truck, that had a professional, reputable company's name emblazoned on the side? 
Would someone have set up a chute from the hoarder's window, and sent the filth careening down to the bed of a big truck, so that it wouldn't so horribly impact the neighbors and commons areas? When they left, would the garbage have left with them? 
Would someone have whipped out a vacuum cleaner that had a state-of-the-art hepa filter, cleared the debris from the floors and stairs, and left it lemony fresh?
Would they have noted the smell of mold and mildew, demanded to enter the offending unit, and proceeded to clean it out, too?

In my wonderful, wishful dreams, Junk Guys came in the middle of the night, and took the bags of garbage and broken furniture away...
then Service Master came to clean and remove the stench from the stairwell...
then Stairs and Rails came to remodel the staircase...
then Empire came and replaced the carpet and padding...
then Kehoe Landscaping contractors came and beautified the lawn...
then Four Brothers, LLC came, and remodeled the laundry room and storage spaces...
and then everyone vowed to paid their condo fees in full, and on time...
then the condo association learned, by heart, the names and numbers of every absentee, negligent owner--and phoned them to remind them to come and handle their investment...
then the association made sure that empty units were thoroughly cleaned, and not sources of mold and mildew, vermin and insects...
then residents cleaned up behind themselves when they spilled stuff, and they didn't smoke (anything) in the hallway, or sell, buy, or use drugs, or block the doors or stairs, or break the front door when they couldn't get in, or break the gate when they couldn't get in, or break the front door glass when they couldn't get in, or holler in the halls, or talk so loud outside, that you can hear entire conversations without even trying, or let their dogs poop all over the lawn. 
Maybe people would change their cat's kitty litter before it began to reek, and put the used litter in secure bags. 
Maybe they'd decide that pets, at least in this space, aren't a good idea at all.
I can dream.











Thankfully, I didn't dream that Calhoun Trash Service showed up, sometime before 11:00 AM. 
The 4 men looked even more bewildered than the Latino workers had, but at least they were dressed for the job, and the outside air absorbed the stench. 
They hauled the bags from the lawn to the curb, and onto a truck. 
It seemed like the more they picked up, the bigger the pile grew. 
At times, they just stopped, shook their heads, stood there, and stared. 
When the truck was filled to capacity, it was driven away, while two workers were left behind to continue taking the bags to the street. 
It took two trips for them to clear all of the bags. 
I suppose the wind and the birds will take care of the scraps. 

I can't help but wonder, "Now what?" 
Will the ball that finally started rolling, suddenly stop? 
Will we be able to open our doors, and not be hit with hazardous smells? 
Will the effort to replace damaged flooring, in the units affected when the pipes burst 2 weeks ago, be in vain, because the offending unit has yet to be cleaned out and inspected? 

I am grateful that a custodian from Friendship Commons did come with a mop, broom, and a spray bottle and try to tackle the stairwell. It was better, but that stairwell needs industrial-strength help, and prayer...or an exorcist.

I hope the city will do more to make sure condominium communities can thrive, but no government can't change people's individual values and habits. 

I hope Section 8 abusers, who take the money and run to the suburbs will be identified, and required to take care of their properties in the District, or be forced to forfeit it. 
I hope that disabled seniors know about, and take advantage of the services available to them, but you can't get help if you don't want it, or are too proud or ashamed to ask for it. 
I hope that those tasked to serve seniors, will really care and serve.

I hope that anyone associated with Calhoun Trash Service will be rewarded for the tremendous service they provided-- and never get blindsided like that again.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

FIX YOUR FACE

I noticed that carefully chosen words will force an individual to adjust his or her demeanor...even for a little while...even if they don't want to..."son of a barkeep"...See? Let someone say something complimentary that you didn't know that they knew. You'll forget what you were all balled-up about, relax, and act like a human being...for a little while...
Don't let other people make YOU the poster child for THEIR beef. Why engage in throwing shade? I thought about a Barney Fife line. "You still sore, Ange? Your jaw muscles are workin'".

Have a mind of your own. You don't have to agree with everything, but don't be so hateful and poised to disagree that you hear nothing. Just because THEY'RE mad, YOU don't have to be. Don't forfeit potentially good relationships because you're trying to "support" someone else in the drama and unpleasantness that THEY started. 
Unclench your jaw. Fix your face. Be authentic. Smile, agree, and clap if you want to. 
Be free...: )

Monday, January 27, 2014

MONDAY THOUGHTS: BELIEVE YOUR EARS





















I followed the Grammy Awards in a haphazard way. Sure. I had my favorites. I love good music. I appreciate great singers whose live performances either match or eclipse their recorded offerings.


It's nice when people you actually know, have worked with, or have met are honored by a nomination or a win. Still, I wonder if the world has turned into a place where people seek to look at music as opposed to listening to it. I was happy to hear the name of Maestro Christoph Eschenbach, especially so soon after my participation in The Kennedy Center's recent production  "Beyond the Score: Dvorák's Symphony No. 9 - Whose World?".

During an interview on the Today Show, novelist, Joyce Maynard referred to "people with some miles on them". That explains it, I guess--and reassures me. No need to feel old or un-hip. I'm so grateful for having been exposed, by my parents and teachers, to all kinds of music. My musical tastes are just fine... my hearing IS intact...There IS a different between what assaults my ears and what is pleasing to them...and the meanings of adjectives like "great", "awesome", "outstanding", "best" and "amazing" DO still mean the same thing they used to.

Knowledge of the criteria is key in the world of musical competition, I suppose. Considering the motives and identities of the decision makers WILL help you to better understand the decisions they make. Unfortunately, what sounds good, apparently, isn't always the principal thing, and some will be committed to making good music whether it is ever awarded or not. 
Still, I'm reminded of the words of actor Frank Langella: “As you get older, you learn what you can endure”. 
what if you went flat...so what if you missed a note. Risk it." 
That's the difference between the people on TV and the rest of us, I imagine--the bravery to risk it all to do something that they enjoy.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

BEST DAYS

We need segments of time. They keeps us organized, aid our memories, and mark occasions. For God? Not so much. He already knows how things are going to play out, no matter how emphatic, optimistic, or promising our plans and declarations are. 
That thing you said you were/weren't going to do; that person you said was the love of your life/planted firmly in your past; that place you said was calling your name/off limits? God knows whether our resolve needs strengthening--and so do we. I wonder if He's laughing and shaking His holy head at us sometimes, and saying "Poor things. They talk such a good game." Was the first day of January the beginning of something, the continuation of something, the ending of something or just...well...another Wednesday? Whatever the case, be happy. Have the best days--on purpose.

Friday, January 3, 2014

FIRST SNOW

I was so grateful for shelter as I watched people hurrying on foot to get to their destinations as the snow fell.  It was beautiful the way the snow lit up the night. It began falling yesterday afternoon and continued into the wee hours of the morning. From every window, I admired it until I decided, this afternoon, to encounter it directly. It was an entirely different experience. From the warmth of the indoors, it looked like fluffy, white frosting. The droplets of ice sparkled like diamonds on the branches of the trees, and the sun amplified it all.  Once outside, however, it crunched under my feet and held on for dear life to the roof, windshield, and trunk of the car. Armed with an umbrella, I thought I could just brush it off. Frankly, the umbrella served as a decent scraper. (Where's the scraper?) I'll see how the umbrella really felt about it the next time it rains.
I noticed several things as I ventured out. The air seemed awfully clean, but a reminder of my bout with the flu discouraged me from breathing it in any longer than I had to. The streets were clean, too, and traffic was light.
As cold as it was today, the scenery really was stunning. I'm glad I wasn't too stunned to notice the needle on the gas gauge. Running out of gas in any weather isn't fun, and today was not the day to be stuck outside or stranded. DC is no Minnesota or Wisconsin, weather-wise, but it's COLD!