Sunday, July 22, 2012

A Kinder, Gentler Andrea


A note to the young woman who had the audacity, the unmitigated gall, to park in my RESERVED parking space: 

You are fortunate, my dear, that it is 2011 and not 2001 or earlier.  In 2001, I would not have canceled the request to have your vehicle towed from my parking space.  You are also fortunate that, despite your flippant attitude, I did not throw my vehicle in "park," turn off the ignition and leave you there to deal with being blocked in.    

Today it was only a thought, but just a few years ago, amid your protests of "you're blocking me in," I would have said "give it your best shot," gone inside and played my piano, leaving you to do just that:  give it your best shot.  I would, of course, have made a note of the make, model, color and license plate number of your 
vehicle, and at sometime in the afternoon, instead of writing this little note, traced your plates to ascertain the identity and address of the vehicle's owner and followed up with a certified letter.

Indeed, young woman with the nasty attitude, you should thank God for the modicum of grace and tolerance I had today, which I did not have not too long ago.  You should thank Him also, that on this Lord's day, I had just returned home from two worship services where each element of prayer, scripture reading, litany, hymn, gospel song, anthem and sermon touched my heart, convicted and convinced me -- for perhaps if it were yesterday, and I had returned home from errands in the heat, traffic jams caused by bad driving and closed freeways, and other annoyances of being exposed to rude people -- I would not have been properly equipped to show you any modicum of grace because I would have run out.

You should thank God for South Main Baptist Church's intern, Timothy Peeples, who reminded me that while it all started with dirt when God formed man a blew into him the breath of life, it all ends with love -- the love of God for us in giving His Son, and the love His Son taught us to have for God the Father, and for each other.  

You don't even realize it, because to you it was nothing to trespass on my rights. Indeed, young woman, your Sunday afternoon could have been fraught with conflict as you strode to your vehicle, counting a wad of cash that you probably did not earn, and if you did, not legally, for it is uncommon to carry a wad of C-notes like scratch paper, which at first glance would cause any bank to report a cash deposit of that nature.  Your entire afternoon might have been ruined by your insensitivity.  Instead, you parked in the RESERVED parking space of an older, kinder, gentler, and more gracious Andrea.  


Please take notice, young woman, tomorrow I will still be older, but tomorrow does not hold the promise that I will as kind, gentle or gracious.




Monday, July 16, 2012

They are to be Pitied


Note:  I often mention my Family of God.  This writing, is not about them.  In fact, it is because of some like those described herein that I was compelled to join my FOG.

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Pitiful are the small, inconsequential minds of those who think that they can hurt me because of their offices and self-deluded thinking that they have some kind of authority over me.    


Pitiful is their self-contempt because they see they fall short of what/how/who they really want to be, so they lash out at and try to hurt others, when in fact, in doing so, they hurt themselves more.  


Tragic is that they confess to believe in my God.  


Tragic is that they foolishly forget my God is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent.  He was there when they lied to themselves and each other.  And He was there when they perpetrated a fraud, calling it worship.  And He was there in the aftermath when they set about their deceitful intentions, justified by their lies.  And He will be there when they stand in my face and try to assert their authority.  In response, I will simply go home, play my piano, and be at peace, at least two out of the three of which they are unable to do.  


All they can do is go home.  And most likely the places where they normally bed down for sleep, hang their clothing, prepare their meals and groom their bodies (at least the exterior) are no more than way stations rather than homes.  “Home” is a place of sanctuary, rest, relaxation, restoration, rejuvenation and refuge.  Home is a place of caring, love and acceptance, despite conflicts which may arise.   Whether a 700-square-foot one-bedroom apartment, a row house, a condominium or a three-story new construction, what they call “home” is most likely a way station, a place for them to go and get ready for the next attack on someone else because they refuse to look in a mirror and see the real problem, the real culprit.  And because they have no inner peace, it matters not the quality, size or cost of their dwelling place; there is no place that can really be home for them.


In the meantime, I will go home, a 2/2 apartment that houses both work and living space, and my piano.  It is not the piano I would have if I could have my pick of instruments, but it is the one I own.  It is not even acoustic.  But it has all 88 keys and they are reasonably weighted and the thing, a Kurzweill PC 88 that has served me well for 17 years, never needs tuning.  And on this instrument I played and recorded my very best rendition of Blessed Assurance ever in my life.  I will play my piano, commune with my God, and be at peace.  


I have a home.  I have a piano.  I have peace.  I have my God.  I have wealth beyond measure.  On the other hand, they do not.  They are to be pitied.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Facebook Rantings

This post will probably get me "unfriended" by one or two hundred folks.  That's okay.  I have been unfriended before, and this probably won't be my last time.  It's just another indication that Facebook outgrew "friending" a few million folks ago.  Maybe friending should be renamed "connecting" or "aligning" or some other term that is more suitable to birds who only seek out those of like feathers.  I allowed myself five minutes to vent and came up with this my top ten list of pet peeves -- at least for today:


1.    I REFUSE to LIKE Walmart.  My heart falls and my gut twists into a knot everytime my mom, The Boss, sends me there. Walmart is a vicious, despicable conglomeration of predators.  It preys on and victimizes its suppliers, its employees and its customers.  It gouges its suppliers.  It mistreats its employees.  And it passes off poorly manufactured goods to its customers, like laptop computers with barely enough memory to run operating systems.


2.     I  have NO idea who or what Kim Kardashian is or even if she has any socially redeeming value, which I doubt, based on the circumstances under which I hear her name in popular media (that is, if media has any veracity, which, again, is doubtful), nor do I care to know.


3.     Jesus, the Christ is my Lord and Savior, of Whom I am not ashamed.  Still, I doubt that in the flesh he was the handsome dark-haired, blue-eyed hunk as he has been portrayed.  He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.  (Isaiah 53:2).  


4.     I pray daily, throughout the day, and am uttering one now, asking God the Father to still the hands of folks who think it their mission to shove their beliefs, regardless of the issue, down my throat, by telling me what to LIKE and what to SHARE, and the contingent circumstances upon which I am to do so.


5.     Despite my beliefs and my opinions, they will be mine even if they are not yours.  I may or may not agree with you, but I respect your right to think/believe as you deem appropriate, even if contrary to what I think/believe.  Please allow me the same consideration.  Of course, if you don't that's okay, too.  You will be ignored.  And you will probably unfriend me.  Cool.


6.     I do not believe that SHARING or FORWARDING or LIKING anything in particular, for any specific number of times with a specific number of people, will put me in better stead with the Almighty God.  It rains on the just and the unjust, and we are all some of both.  


7.     God is not a genie.  You don't get three wishes; you get to live your life based on the choices you made, as do I.  Sometimes He will show you an extra measure of unmerited favor -- perhaps you call it grace, or sometimes you will forego the consequences of your actions -- perhaps you call that mercy; that doesn't make you any more highly favored as the next person; we all get that, to some degree, from time to time.


8.     I do not care to see intimate moments of anyone on my Facebook page, whether male/female, male/male, or female/female, or, God forbid, male/other or female/other, where other is something in lieu of homo sapien.


9.     I do not care to see pictures of barely dressed people.  I don't know which is worse, a picture posted to laugh at or ridicule, or a picture posted to tantalize.  Neither are appealing.  Both are offensive.   This being said, I am not a prude; there is simply a time and place for everything.


10.     My "church" clothes are always ready.  I get up on Sunday morning, do the necessary daily grooming, go to my closet and pull out something neatly pressed and clean, generally a dress shirt or twin set and a pair of trousers, occasionally a suit, and appropriate accessories.  I still have to watch those dirty stains that appear on my heart, however.


Looking forward to "friending" new folks as my current roll declines, and


Finally, brethren, Be perfect, be of good comfort,
be of one mind, live in peace;
and the God of love and peace shall be with you.
 II Corinthians 13:11 (KJV)