Tuesday, September 15, 2009

The Next Wave of Hot Careers

Do you remember when becoming a paralegal was all the rave? How about dental assistant? Medical transcriptionist? Massage therapist? And we must not forget electronics and information technology. Training institutions and business colleges sprang up like weeds after a heavy rain. The default rate of their students' "student" loans was comparatively horrific compared to traditional institutions of higher learning.


So what? Well, I've got news for you!!! Whether you're just getting started and haven't decided what you want to do with your life, or contemplating a career change, consider this:


Caveat: I have no statistics, but all you have to do is open your eyes and see that --


1. An alarming number of men wear clothing several sizes too large. What is problematic is that their trousers, those garments designed to fit around the waste, are being worn several inches below the waist -- sometimes below the buttocks. Aside from the flashing of boxer shorts, which this writer simply cannot understand why this fashion statement is "in" -- have you ever noticed how one must walk when one's trousers are much too large and worn well below the waste? Even when secured by a belt, it is necessary for the wearer of such foolishness to walk with his legs farther apart than is natural. It is doubtful folks who wear baggy trousers have given little consideration to the long-term effects of poor walking posture. Our bodies are a delicate balance of chemicals and minerals comprising systems of muscle, tissue, bone, connective tissue -- blah, blah, blah. We are engineering marvels of the Creator, and He did not create us to walk in such unnatural ways as required by baggy pants.


2. An alarming number of women wear extremely high heels -- all the time. This writer actually knows a woman who claims not to be able to wear flat shoes! What is problematic is that over time the wearing of high heels damages muscles and joints.


So what does all this have to do with the next wave of hot careers??? Well, I'm glad you asked. I figure in the next 10 to 20 years we're going to need a lot more podiatrists, orthopedic surgeons, chiropractors, manufacturers of durable medical equipment for stuff that hasn't even been invented yet, special insurance plans to pay for all this crap (you know -- like you can buy a cancer policy today that pays in the event of that kind of diagnosis).


Yessiree, buddy: the fashion industry is going to do for us what the pharmaceutical industry has done. Just as legal drugs are destroying our bodies from the inside out with side-effects and organ damage,* baggy pants and high heels are damaging our musculature and spines.


I suppose, however, that it is unfair to blame the fashion industry. Is there a gun to our heads? Are we under threat of the loss of life if we don't buy trousers that don't fit? Or shoes that make us as tall as we want to be? (Like -- I am vertically challenged and wish I could be as tall as my Sweet Pea, who has literally looked down on me since she was 14 years old.)


Just a little something to think about this evening. Now -- I need to go take inventory of my shoes . . .


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*Organ damage: NSAIDs (non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs) and ACE (angiotensin-converting enzyme) inhibitors)= are culprits that can cause renal failure. NSAIDs include some popular over-the-counter drugs. ACEs can constrict blood vessels and cause hypertension. Having Sarcoidosis, I am prone to have high levels of ACEs, which is why I have high blood pressure, something I never had before the big S. Have you noticed how many dialysis centers have been built in the last 10 years?

Thursday, September 10, 2009

What Do You Do When You Don't Get Your Way?

Yesterday was Wednesday -- "hump" day -- the middle of the week. The day following our President's speech directed to children -- encouraging them to stay and do well in school -- a speech that too many folks did not want him to make. As one man put it: I don't want my child to be a little community organizer. This week I am listening to Mr. Obama's first book as I tool around the city in my Jeep. I spend a lot of time in my Jeep it seems. When I first heard the term community organizer I had an inkling, but now have learned a little more. In essence, what Mr. Obama did as a community organizer, was bring people together to work on problems to benefit their individual and common good -- the kind of stuff that many take for granted. (stuff we take for granted will be addressed at another time.) It turns out that when one reaps an individual benefit, it does affect the common good. But, again, I'll save that for another time. Back to the issue at hand -- Wednesday -- hump day.


Wednesday is a really special day. No matter how grueling it is, I try really hard to end it by four o'clock. If it all possible I like to spend 30 minutes or so with the beautiful rosewood Steinway that sits in the sanctuary of That Place where my family of God assembles for a myriad of reasons and activities (see previous blog). I missed that time yesterday, but arrived in time for dinner --- succulent, juicy, well-seasoned chicken breast tenders, a baked potato (custom loaded by yours truly), fresh leafy salad (they even remember I'm allergic to tomatoes), a roll that rivals any (even those from my mom's kitchen [don't tell her I said that -- even at 90 her baked goods are as scrumptious as they were 50 years ago]), and finished with a perfect peanut butter cookie (baked in our Place's kitchen, of course). Hmm. Anyway, trust me, I don't just go for the food. More importantly, I go for the fellowship and all that word encompasses.


There is something special about communing with a group of folks who share a common belief. It is the tie that binds our hearts in (at least in this case) Christian love. The fellowship part includes my pastor visiting our tables, taking a few moments for us to catch up with each other. Then we review our newsletter and get updates on what's happening with our friends and family. Then we have prayer. And then we begin Bible study, which brings us to the question pastor Steve asked yesterday evening: What do you do when you don't get your way?


I have yet to shake that question from the forefront of my thoughts. After Bible study I went to choir rehearsal -- as usual a mixed bag of musical genres. And, confronted with two pieces I really don't feel yet -- one in Spanish and another in a language I dare not even guess (something from Africa [no offense to my African brothers and sisters]), that question loomed in my mind: What do you do when you don't get your way? After rehearsal, getting into my second home (the Jeep [perhaps I should give it a name -- something gender nonspecific]), I received a phone call, and after my usual greeting -- this is Andrea -- what I heard was not hey, how're ya' doin' -- or the more gutteral vernacular -- whassup? -- but instead: did you hear that #!!*@??? (Remember Watergate? -- expletive deleted.) Anyway, no, I did not hear Joe Wilson. By now, most folks know who he is, so I'll just move right along. But after hearing the Joe Wilson excercise in uncivilized behavior (at least here in the United States -- not so in England or some Asian countries), there was that question again: What do you do when you don't get your way?


So, what about that question? Here are some broad strokes on the complicated canvass we call life (trite, huh?).


1. You remember your commitment. If you made it, you should honor it.

Is your commitment to your political party, or the people you represent, or to yourself? Is the oath you took a meaningless jumble of words -- you know, allegiance to the Constitution of the United States, swearing to well and faithfully discharge duties, blah, blah blah? These are questions -- particularly to legislators who enjoy great medical insurance and retirement benefits that are the envy of the folks they represent -- that merit answers. And don't forget these little gems: How many lobbyists do you actually know? Commune with? accept gifts from?

Suggestion to all: ask your legislator (how about all of them?) where his* loyalty lies.


2. You remember who's in charge. If you're not the leader, then you're a follower. If you dont' want to follow, get the heck out of the way.

Is your commitment to be the best choir member you can be, by following the instructions of the director, knowing that despite the numbers of bodies, there is only one soprano, one alto, one tenor, one bass (meaning if you screw it up there goes the whole section -- whether 2 or 12 or 20)? Is your commitment to serve at your whim, or to serve your God (mine gets the capital "G" -- how about yours) and minister to His people through music?

Note to self: review the Spanish and African language songs at home so you won't feel like a large-lipped bungling idiot trying to pronounce "mbwe" while in choir rehearsal.


3. You remember that He is the way -- so make your way His way. (Warning: you may not get with this blurb. That's okay for now; I pray that one day you will).

I have learned that most times our way is not the right way. We devise and scheme, plot and plan to shape, form and fashion what is right according to our own whims. Actually, we give little thought to the "rightness" of it all. Sure, we sometimes whitewash it in some lie on the Lord or Holy Spirt. You know of what I speak: I prayed and I prayed and the Lord showed me . . . The Lord led me to . . . The Spirit spoke to me and said . . . . Am I sayingHe doesn't speak to us? Absolutely not! He's always speaking to us; the problem is we are rarely listening. Why? Because usually we are hell bent on having our way. And most likely, that is where our way will take us: straight to hell. (Or as one man told me when I, substituting for his church's minister of music, asked the choir to reign in their conduct: Well, you know, we have our traditions, to which I replied: Yeah, and your traditions might take you straight to hell. Anyway, moving right along. . . .


The truth be told (another trite little saying), if we listened more often, we would have our way a lot less. But, we forge ahead with whatever, and when we get ourselves in another mess, He is still there. As the song says: Everytime I come back to Him, He is waiting with open arms, and I see once again He's been faithful to me. (That's really a nice song. Thank you, Carol Cymbala of Brooklyn Tabernacle.)


Sometimes not having our way is painful. This year has been chocked full of the most gut-wrenching pain I have ever experienced. I lost someone very dear to me in a most unsettling way -- not to a natural death, which is a natural progression of life -- but to divorce, which is the crudest tearing away (I rate it right up there with murder). If I had gotten my way, rather than having grieved over the loss of possibilities and potential, we would now be nurturing the growth and development of a viable means of help others. My thought about this last night: sometimes when we don't get our way it is because we have no control. And that thought begs the question: what do we do when we don't have control? Well, I'm glad you asked.


Even when I don't have control, The Way -- the Maker and Creator of us all -- is in control. He did not call Himself a Christian; He called Himself The Way. So whether it is a control issue or a getting my way issue (is there any difference? I think not), I choose to focus on Him. Only He has the ability to make sense out of confusion, turn darkness to light, open blind eyes and deaf ears that truth may be seen and heard, to melt hearts of stone. I pray for the day that my steps -- not some, but all -- are ordered in The Way -- the Word, the Truth, the Light. The Way is all that and much more.
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*Please be reminded I care nothing for being politically correct. Use whatever gender pronoun you deem appropriate.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

The Family of God for Me in That Place

This evening I was reminded of why I chose to become a member of a particular congregation. We sometimes refer to ourselves as the family of God in this place. This place is our campus -- where we meet for worship, to learn, to fellowship, and to celebrate weddings and new babies and souls gone on with beautiful memorial services that celebrate life. We dedicate babies and commit to supporting their nurture, growth and development. We baptize new believers. We pray with an for each other and others. We encourage and commission missionaries who go near and far to spread the Gospel of Jesus. We have fun and food -- fun for the entire family and food that is consistently good.


About 11 years ago I started going to worship at the 8:30 service at that place when I still held leadership positions in music ministry. That was my hour of worship, unencumbered by worry or wondering -- whether "she" would properly execute her solo, or if "he" would be on time, or whether the drummer would be too loud -- too fast -- too slow -- or too much. Some percussionists don't understand that they are most often accompanists for the accompanists (primary instruments [piano and organ]), who are accompanying the real messengers -- the singers. In that hour I was free to commune with God and His family in that place.


It turned out that the family of God in that place are really nice folks. They not only speak to strangers, but do so with a smile, a firm handshake, a pat on the arm or shoulder or back, a real greeting, a there's a seat up there -- it's a little closer -- do you want to come up? kind of invitation. The kinds of smiles, handshakes and invitations that say we're really glad you're here. While I am pitiful about remembering names, there were faces that had become familiar to me, and to whom mine had become familiar as well. Okay, you're probably asking how do you know your face became familiar to them? Well, it's like this: miss a couple of Sundays and then go back. The welcome to South Main greetings are tossed in favor of it's so good to see you again.


When I left music ministry in 2003 I visited a few churches closer to my home, but on that first Sunday in April 2003 I went back to that place where I had been welcomed so frequently. I have been there since. I cannot say unequivocally that there is no other place like it because I have not been to all of God's places. What I can say is there is none other that I know. Yes, our place is a nice campus that's well cared for. But what makes our place special is not the campus layout or the buildings, but the family.


So what happened? I'll spare you the gory details. After having written this, the unpleasant incident is a fading memory. Tomorrow I shall visit my place, commune with my family, have a little dinner, then prayer, Bible study and choir rehearsal. And it will be as if the memory of this evening that is now fading, was an inconsequential blink on the spectrum of eternity.