Weaving Webs

A few days ago in the big town that is closest to us there was an incident. We don’t have incidents much in our neck of the woods so it’s always news. This particular incident seemed newsworthy to me if only because of the stupidity involved. I’m still shaking my head in disbelief!
A 29 year old man was picking up a few things at a corner store. For reasons unknown at this time, he chose not to pay for these items. The value was just under $20. That’s a minor shoplifting charge.
He exited the building, jumped into a pickup that was not his and took off heading for the freeway and a way out of town. Now, he’s looking at shoplifting AND a grand theft auto charge.
Two policemen catch up to him. He takes off even faster leading them in a high speed pursuit. Shoplifting, grand theft auto AND evading police. They try to get around him. He rams into both police cars. Shoplifting, grand theft auto, evading capture AND two attempted murder charges!!!
They did catch him. But I’m trying hard to comprehend the reasoning (or lack of) that took place in this person’s brain. Do the math! He is looking at spending the next 30 years in prison for less than twenty dollars- WHY???
I know the argument- he wasn’t thinking- he was probably tanked on something, etc. etc. But I see it as a symptom of the world we live in. So many of us make a small mistake and instead of claiming responsibility and paying for it, we go to extremes to cover it up. It is more important for us to “get away” with it than to just own up. The results are the same. The ending price is much, much higher than if we had taken care of it in the first place
You know- “What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive”. That applies to ALL dishonesty. What huge burdens of guilt are we carrying around? In the long run wouldn’t it be easier to put the burden down by unweaving the web and fixing the original mistake? I think so.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

Chicken Run

I’m more than a little embarrassed to share the following story with you. I , who is known as the ultimate animal person, must admit that I had forgotten an important lesson. It had to be taught to me all over again. It is the lesson of love and patience.
It all started several weeks ago when one of our hens began to get “broody.” This means she started getting possessive about her eggs and not only her eggs but others as well. She claimed a nest for her very own, refusing to budge, even for me to gather the eggs.
She started with pecking at my hand when I tried to slip under her to pull out the eggs. Then she made a lot of noisy complaints and began to peck at my arm as soon as I was close. One day, she pecked me hard and I dropped the eggs. At this point, I was pissed! My arm hurt and the broken eggs were running down my legs.
So, contrary to everything I know to be right and true- I engaged in warfare with this chicken. She squawked, I squawked louder. She ruffled her feathers to appear bigger, I stood towering over her. She got in my face, I got in hers. We had a few knock down, drag out fights with both of us trying to out ruffle and out squawk each other.
This went on for about ten days. Each day the battle escalated. She started to attack the other chickens that were allowing me to reach under them. I began to use a shield to back her off the nest. I began making plans to execute her to end the problem once and for all. My husband thought it was funny until he tried to gather the eggs one night!
So one morning I lay in bed hating this hen and dreading the idea of chores that morning. While reviewing the past weeks events in my mind I realized suddenly (and to my shame) that there WAS one thing I hadn’t tried. I hadn’t tried to be nice. I was so pissed about her rotten attitude that I had completely ignored my own. I felt like an idiot.
That morning, I talked softly to her, being careful to move slowly and appear non-threatening. I used my shield but I used it matter of factly not angrily. She didn’t know what to do! I have continued to treat her gently and like a friend. She still doesn’t like me taking the eggs but the fight is gone. All is quiet on the western front and in my henhouse.
This principle works with people as well. I know it does. I’ve seen it so many times. Jesus said “Love your enemy”. Our grandparents said, “You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.” Take your choice. The fact is that kindness ALWAYS works better than anger.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

WHAT???

An older friend of mine was sent a invite from a prominent hearing aid company. It wasn’t exactly a scam as it was a very complex marketing technique but to the unsuspecting it sure can feel like one. This invite was for “free” hearing tests and some great deal on the hearing aids.
This couple both know that they are have problems hearing. My friend told me, “We sit in front of the TV at night asking each other- what did they say?” So they went prepared to accept the deal for one of them and pay for the other.
They made the appointment and did the testing. Yes, they both need hearing aids. The next part was the shocker. My friend says she couldn’t get over how the man looked straight into her face and said without a blink, “Your devices will cost $4500.” !!!!!!!! That was just for hers!!!
They managed to get out of the office and into the car before she blurted to her husband, “There’s nothing I want to hear that badly. You better get used to yelling, dear.”
When she shared the story with me, I was equally shocked at the high price tag. I told her that an antique ear trumpet only cost a few hundred. I decided I’ll just carry a pad of paper and pen around with me as my hearing gets worse. That might help my memory, too.
We have computers that can do everything but the dishes for less than $1000. How can tiny radio type devices cost so much? I’m thinking it’s because the young brilliant people haven’t realized the need. It’s only us older not so brilliant people that see it but we still have problems with programming our TV’s and phones.
I’m in hopes that some brilliant young college student reads this and decides to be the one that invents the next big, new, thing and revolutionizes the hearing aid industry. Or maybe it’s already been invented but isn’t being utilized yet. Either way I can’t believe that in a day and age with such amazing technology this is still even an issue.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

My Song

One fine summer evening, a young couple took their 5 year old son to a piano concert. He was learning to play piano and he loved it. Featured at this concert was a Master pianist. While waiting for the concert to start, the young boy disappeared. The parents began to search frantically when a familiar sound met their ears. It was the tune to “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” being played on the magnificent concert piano. They had found their son!
Chagrined, they headed for the stage to remove him. Before they could reach him the Master pianist came on the stage. He leaned over the boy and whispered, “Keep on playing”. He then reached for the keys and added his music to that of the small boy’s. The result brought tears to many in the audience. The sweet simple tune blended with the more complex music the Master was playing to create something beautiful and unique.
There are days and sometimes whole weeks when I tire of my little song. I want to do so much more. I want to be so much more. Sometimes I just want the pain of life to stop. I want to see success instead of failure. I want my song to be sung to the ends of the earth. And yet, I realize that my song is still too simple, too ordinary.
But I want to state right here, right now, that I KNOW there is a Master leaning over me. He adds to my simple song the fullness and richness that I lack. He fills in the gaps and hesitations. The music rises in perfect crescendos when needed. It falls into perfect silences at times so that I may hear my own song.
I know that my song played along with the Master’s is something beautiful and unique. I also know that your song is too. I hope and pray that you feel the Master behind you, that you feel his arms around you. Can you hear the incredible music you are making together? It’s there, all around you. Take a moment this week to stop and listen to it. It is awesome!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

Ink City

I took a trip to the “Big City” today. Actually, I’d like to call it Babylon. I realize that I am very sheltered on my small farm in my small town but I mean, really? I feel as if I visited another planet! Even my husband, who goes out among the natives every day was feeling it.
The first thing we noticed was the number of people sporting tattoos. And not just cute little tattoos. We are talking about whole arms, chests, backs or legs being covered with multiple markings. We estimated 80% of the shoppers were inked. We even saw a small baby with an arm tattoo. We are hoping it was fake but both parents were covered so what are the chances? Does anyone know if that’s even legal?
Now, I don’t have a thing against tattoos themselves although I’m not sure they are healthy. I also know what they look like when bodies age. It does concern me, however, that they are permanent and fads are not. What shocked me was the sheer number and size of them. The tattoo trend started out with the desire to be “different” as most fads do. And just as most trends it has ended up with everyone looking the same.
I have seen a few large tattoos that are works of art. One young man I saw once had the characters from “Lord of the Rings” entwined together on his arm. It was beautiful. I would have loved to see it on a canvas rather than an arm.
But most people don’t have a natural sense of style. So many of the markings I saw today looked cluttered and too busy. It was hard to know what to look at- the tats drew attention from the clothing being worn and definitely from the person sporting them.
It is hard to notice a beautiful face or body or hair or eyes when a dozen or more tattoos are clamoring for attention! And what happens when the tattoo craze is over? A whole generation is marked for life.
It all reminded me of a Dr.Suess book I used to read to my children. There were some creatures with star shaped belly buttons and some without. Those with the stars thought they were better than those without. Of course, those without were miserable.
Along came a clever person who had invented a machine that could make star belly buttons. Happy day!! All the no star bellies paid him to get new star bellies. That made the star bellies mad. They paid him to have theirs removed. Then the others had theirs removed. Then they all paid to have them put back on again. This went on for days until they were all broke and nobody could remember what their original belly buttons looked like.
The only winner in this story was the man with the machine. Oh, yeah, I have seen a billboard offering laser tattoo removals. Uncanny, don’t you think? I guess good old Dr.Suess knew what he was talking about. I wonder how much money is going to be spent getting inked and then getting uninked? Way too much I’m sure!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

Judgements

We all know the story about Jesus walking on water. He was walking from the shore to the ship that awaited him. The sea was choppy and the wind blew hard. As he neared the boat, Peter climbed overboard and began walking towards Jesus. He became fearful after a few steps and began to sink.
Much attention is given to the fact that he lost his faith and sank. Many sermons have been given on this subject. But not much is ever said about the facts that I think are important. Peter climbed over the railing of the boat, he stepped into stormy seas and he actually walked on the water for a few steps! How many of us could have done that much?
There were others on that boat. Did any of them climb the rail? Did any of them risk all to attempt the impossible? No. They stayed on board, safe and dry. But Peter wanted to walk on water. He made the effort. He risked everything to make that attempt. Yes, he failed. But isn’t it remarkable that he even tried?
I was reminded of this on a recent road trip with some of my children. One of my teenagers was very vocal about what she perceived to be my past failures and bad choices. Of course, most of her information came from her father. It was one sided at best. I pointed out that there are always two sides to every story and usually both of those sides are a little warped.
But as I pondered on the things she had said I realized that her focus was on what she thought were my failures. She had no concept of the efforts, circumstances or atmosphere surrounding each of my “failures”. She is too young to know of the blood, sweat and tears that accompanied these events.
And I came to understand more deeply the instructions to “judge not”. Only God can know all the circumstances. Only God can know the intentions in a person’s heart. Only God can make a true judgment. He knows what it took to climb out of the boat.
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

Window Washing

I stood outside in the sun scraping paint and fuming! I felt like slave labor. My forte is in organizing. I can put a house together in one day but windows have never and will never be top on my chore list. How dare she treat me this way?
Then I took a deep breath and another and even another. I began to think the situation over from her point of view. I came to the realization that she knew how far I had driven. She knew how busy I was. If she asked me to scrap the windows it was probably because it was important to her.
And wasn’t that what I had offered? I had offered to give her my time and help. How she wanted to use that time was her choice. I hadn’t specified what I was willing to do or what I wasn’t willing to do. I had told her I’d help and by cracky, I’d do whatever it was SHE felt she needed. I could give her that. I even began to feel a little honored that she had entrusted me to do that which was so important to her.
It was an extremely important lesson in service to others. True service is giving what is needed. She was grateful for the work and I went home very tired but a little wiser.
Now, for the rest of the story- a number of years later I shared this story with some friends. I changed the names to protect the innocent. One of my friends spoke to me later. She named the woman. I asked her how she knew. Because “she” has a real thing about her windows being clean! That WAS her most important thing and she had asked me to do it.
That lesson has come in handy many times over the years as I have tried to serve in ways that are needed instead of what makes me feel better. That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

AVisit to Nazi Occupied Poland

My daughters and I spent time in Nazi occupied Poland this weekend via Netflix. We watched several movies, some documentaries and a revealing film made by the Nazi’s.
We hid in a small attic crawl space with 13 Jews. They could not stand or speak or move. They felt like the rats that also occupied their small space. They could not bathe or wash their clothes. Their toilet was a communal bucket. They had no privacy whatsoever. It was 2 ½ years of hell but they thanked God for every moment because they were alive!
We worried along with the young Christian girl who kept them alive. She put her life on the line for what she felt to be right. Immediate shooting was the consequence for hiding Jews. She put her faith in God asking for and receiving help for each obstacle she had to surmount. When asked she said, “I didn’t do anything special.”
We then lived in one of the Polish ghettos with one million other Jews. It was crowded. Each family was allowed two rooms. Each home was occupied by several families mostly unknown to each other. People starved to death and were thrown out into the street for pickup by the body crew. They were then slid down a slide into a mass grave to be bulldozed over.
We walked among those who knew that their life could end at any moment just on a soldier’s whim. We watched as slowly both Germans and Jews lost their humanity. “You cannot live with such things and allow yourself to feel” was one survivors comment. “We just stopped feeling.”
We felt the pain of families torn apart, the fear of the unknown, the despair of helplessness and the terror of the trains. We watched the smugness of the German leadership during trial still sure that they were right. They had done nothing wrong.
We saw footage of the skeletal remains of people, both dead and alive. We looked into eyes that were no longer recognizable as human. We saw the eyes of trapped animals, willing to chew off their own legs if needed to attain freedom.
We watched as Auschwitz was planned, designed and built to be a killing factory so that the work would be more efficient - the work of eliminating the entire Jewish population. We watched the still overwhelming numbers of dead fill the screen.
And my daughters asked questions that after 70 years can still not be answered. They wanted to know- WHY? They wanted to know- HOW? Mostly, they wanted to know- COULD THIS HAPPEN AGAIN?
One of the statistics that struck me was the estimation that less than 1% of the non-Jewish population in all the occupied countries did anything to help. Less than 1%! Would that figure be any higher today? I don’t think so. And that disturbs me the most. Have we really learned anything? As the last of that generation pass away, I’m afraid that no- we haven’t.
The people of today think stress is being late for a coffee date or a pedicure. Put to a real stress test would we crumble like a house of cards or are our foundations stronger than we think? Would we step up to the plate or hide in the bleachers? What would you do? That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

Meals on Wheels

I’ve been in a blue mood for the past few weeks. I know some of the causes but my usual coping methods are not available to me at the moment. It’s hot where I am so most of my outdoor activities are limited. It is also hot inside. Our 20 year old system isn’t keeping up well. So my indoor activities are also limited. What can I say? I’m a New Englander- I don’t do heat well!
So, this morning, I say to my husband, who by the way is a Westerner, he does heat just fine- it’s cold he can’t do! I say- “Life sucks and then you die.” I say this when I am in my blue moods although they don’t accurately describe my philosophy. They do, however, describe my feelings.
So, I’m in bed, staring at the ceiling, telling my better half- “Life sucks and then you die.” I’m getting ready for a full fledged pity party. I want to moan and groan and cry and just be miserable! I’m waiting for my sweetie to take me in his arms and tell me how much he loves me. I want him to put the pieces of my broken heart together and hold them tight in his hands. But this is not his way.
He tells me, “Someone told a good joke last night (at work).” Now, first you need to understand that my husband doesn’t tell jokes, he tells stories. He is captivating! Second, you need to understand that I have learned over the years that he is not ignoring my pain. The story is his response to it. It is always relevant. I have learned to listen carefully.
“A big, white, fluffy cat dies. He finds himself standing before the pearly gates of heaven. Saint Peter looks down on him. “You’ve been a good cat. I will let you into heaven. Is there anything I can do for you to make your stay more comfortable?”
The cat thinks for a few minutes. “All my life, I had to sleep on hard surfaces. I would really like a big soft cushion.” Instantly, he has one. “This is wonderful, thank you!”
A few days later some mice appear at the gate. Saint Peter tells them that they have been good mice. They will be admitted but is there anything he can do to make their stay better? “Oh, yes, we want some roller skates. All our lives we had to run away from people, from cats, from traps, etc. We are soooo tired of running! Can we please have roller skates?” Instantly, they have them. “Oh, this is great, thank you!”
Some time passes. One day, Saint Peter passes by the cat sleeping on his cushion. He asks how things are going. The cat stretches lazily. “This cushion is so comfortable, I love it! And those meals on wheels aren’t too bad, either!”
When I stopped laughing, I realized that one of the reasons I love this quiet, strong man is his ability to head people off at the pass and avert the coming storm. He is truly a peacemaker. All who know him feel this even if they don’t recognize how he does it. You gotta love someone like that and we all do!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

It's A Wonderful Life!

I love the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”. I love even the story of how it came to be. It was a low budget, last minute thrown together affair that had no idea it was going to grow up to be one of the world’s best known movies.
It is its simplicity that makes it such a classic. It is also its complexity. It very simply tells the story of a man. But because one person’s story is never just one person’s story but the story of all who cross that person’s path, it is the story of a marriage, a family, a neighborhood. It is the story of a town.
It is chock full of things that are truths. We feel these truths deep in our hearts as we watch George’s life played out. We recognize that there is a loving Father in Heaven who watches out for us. We see that there are both good and evil influences in the world. We see that love in what ever form it takes (romantic, familial, neighborly, etc.) is the key to winning the never ending conflict between those influences.
We learn that all of us are subject to temptations as we struggle with George on that bridge. Often, the strength to overcome is given to us by others whether they be angels, spouses, children, friends or neighbors.
We learn how key forgiveness, gratitude and service to others are to the happy flow of life. We see the positive, giving, caring George win over the grasping, negative, hateful Potter. This victory is clear and complete as we witness the payoff of a life well-lived during that last unforgettable scene. The outpouring of love drowns the evils done that day.
But the most important message is the one we all long to truly know- have I had an impact on the world around me? Do I matter? Have I done any good? Is my life worth something? This movie assures us that “no man is an island”. It is impossible to go through a life not touching anyone else’s. Our choice is whether that touch has helped or hurt.
Most times we won’t even know what our influence has been. Sometimes it’s as simple as a smile, a wave, a kind gesture that we forget almost as soon as we’ve done it. But for the person on the receiving end it could make all the difference.
We live in a world of Potters, trying to make their mark with power and control. Many of us have experienced those moments when we think as George did, “I’m worth more dead than alive!” When we have those worthless moments, let’s remember those seen and unseen who would gather round to lift us up.
Let us also try to be those who will reach out in times of need to lift a fellow human being. We all count!! Our lives matter!! Pull out your copy of “It’s a Wonderful Life” if you don’t believe me. It is not just a Christmas movie!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?

Government Standoff

A few weeks ago, my almost thirteen year old daughter stormed into my office. “Mom, you’ve just got to do something!!!! Sarah (her younger sister) is writing terrible things bout me in her diary!!! Do something about it!!!”
My husband and I exchanged looks before we both started laughing. She looked properly insulted and indignant as she proceeded to tell us about the things in her sister’s diary. As soon as I could catch my breath, I responded. “Honey, there is so much wrong with what you just said that I don’t even know where to begin!!”
She was furious!! No amount of discussion helped her to see her culpability in snooping. Another family favorite occurs during prayer time- “Mom, so and so wasn’t keeping their eyes closed during prayer!!” My response has always been “How do YOU know?” Some get it- some do not.
Which leads me to the real subject today- the U.S. Government’s inability to work together. I do not intend to take sides in this blog. I do intend to say that some of you are acting like my daughter. Instead of taking a firm stand in defending what you want, you are instead tearing apart the opponents stand. There is so much wrong with that method that I don’t know where to begin!
I hate to break this to you but you are grownups not children. Somewhere along your personal journey, you should have learned the art of compromise. COMPROMISE; an adjustment for settlement by arbitration and mutual concession, usually involving a partial surrender of purposes or principle.
In layperson terms, one side gives a little, the other side gives a little and the end result is something neither side particularly cares for but it will work. A divorce attorney once told me that if neither party liked the result it was probably a fair compromise. The same principle holds true in politics!
So, please stop acting like a bunch of 12 year old girls and get your act together. The people of this country are depending on you. This is more than just being right- it’s about being fair and just!
That’s the view from my side of the street, what’s yours?