I don't wanna and you can't make me!
Okay, maybe you can't make me, but I'm sure somebody somewhere could. I always hate those stupid memes that say, "If you could have one, which one would you choose" And the options vary, but typically they involve the jobs of home care. So the most common that I have seen are chef, housekeeper, and nanny. It's funny, but it doesn't matter whatever combination or selection amount thereof, I always choose the same thing. MAID/HOUSEKEEPER. Let's face it, everything I hate is involving cleaning. As I was bent over under my dining room table cleaning up crumbs, I truly understood why. It's constant. I have cleaned my counters, walked away, and found something else on my counters. It's unnerving how frustrating cleaning is. Let's think about the other two top options. We'll start with the personal chef. Okay, this one isn't the best for me to begin with because I love to cook. However, a cook will give you a great (you hope) meal. If it were my house, I would want nutritional value plus taste. They cook a fantastic meal and then, it's done. I eat it, I don't. Leftovers, no leftovers. The service is done. Sure, they repeat each meal, but I know I'm not the only one that says, "Oh I'll just grab a ... for dinner/lunch/snack." Sometimes you don't want a full meal with exquisite plating techniques. Sometimes you just want some Ramen. Or better yet, you want your grandmother's recipe, not some bum from the finest culinary school that would do it "the right way." You know what I mean. Sure the recipe calls for unsalted butter, but Grandmammie liked it with lard. The nanny part I understand. As a work from home mama I am in need of some solo time. I need to keep my focus on something - literally anything- while kids are talking to me, asking for food, needing help with schoolwork, playing loudly, and whatever else. Oh what I would give for one hour a day before lunch but after 830 that I had all to myself. How productive could I be?? Dreams of yesteryear. And then you have those days where someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. It makes everyone else wish to throw them back in and strap them down. How nice it would be to look at any other human and say, "This is what you're paid to handle!" Then, of course, you would go to Target, grab a latte, and shop with your RedCard as if you were untouchable. But again, do you want your children to be the product of someone else's hard work? There is no greater joy than hearing a complement about my children. That comes from me putting in the time. If I had a nanny, it would be from them putting in the work. Then I would need to give her a bonus or something- a childless trip to target? No, I want my children with me. That is why I made the choice to stay home after all. So let's talk about that housekeeper/maid situation. Someone else would clean the bathrooms. Someone else would clean my floors. Someone else would wipe counter tops and clean off fingerprints and face smudges from my storm door. That is the forever gift. Look, I don't need, nor do I want, someone to do my laundry. I do that two to three times a week - knock out a couple loads at a time. Wash, dry, fold, put away. BAM! - I don't want someone folding my undies. Heck, I lose pairs all the time lately (the last place to check is my son's drawers for my missing pieces) I couldn't imagine if a pair of something went missing and someone else was doing my laundry! I would freak. Besides, laundry is controlable. As long as you have enough to get by until the next load, sing a song of blessing and wear that t shirt that you didn't realize still existed. But house keeping is intense. It is a daily thing. Two kids, a husband, and myself all make crumbs. We all have little "spooges" that get on the counters, and sometimes the floors. You can't leave that junk! The ants and palmetto bugs will make your home their favorite restaurant. Ew. So it's daily. I would love to have one day where I didn't pick up the towel that cleans my counters. I would like one day where I walked across my floor barefooted and didn't say, "Ugh what was that?" But here I am. Day after day. Repetitive cleaning sucks. There. I said it. It's kind of that way with the rest of our lives, isn't it? If you are an addict, and by that I mean carry the gene of addiction, things can get difficult. It might be easy to turn down alcohol if you don't like the taste, but maybe chocolate has you beat. Or maybe you can handle never looking at porn because you don't care to try it, but those motrins aren't cutting it anymore. It's constant maintenance cleaning. It doesn't have to be for addicts either. For some people there is just one sin that no matter how many times we try to clean it up, we run back to it. It needs to be swept again. It needs to be scrubbed again. We can fuel ourselves. We can handle the people around us. We can clothe ourselves and make things look alright on the outsides, but the constant cleaning up inside is tedious, frustrating, and so much more. After all, it wasn't our fault there was traffic and that stressed us out and now we need chocolate ice cream! Or hey, it's my boss at work that's the problem, not the job itself. He's a jerk and now I need a more pain relievers. Whether it's my house or my soul, I hate continual cleaning. Thankfully I found Jesus and between him and the Holy Spirit they clean me up bit by bit. When I relinquish control I allow them to work within me. My desires for the ill (over eating, anger, excessive exercise which allows for the eating) diminish slowly. My desires for the good (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control) increase. God is good. His mercy is my soul's housekeeper.
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If you know me, you know I am a competitive person. If you don't know me - I AM A COMPETITIVE PERSON! Over the years I have been known to go for blood. Okay, so high school I was vicious. I love the feeling of winning. I love the feeling of knowing I did something better than other people. I also hate the feeling of losing. I hate knowing I could have and should have done better.
I grew up in a world where the best are known for being the best and the worst we never heard of. In my childhood there was no participation trophy. If you lost a game of Go Fish, you lost. If you won there was no encouragement of gloating and if you lost there were no tears and whining. Because of this, I wanted to win. Even though gloating wasn't encouraged, it happened. The tears? Nope. You didn't get to have a bad attitude because things didn't turn out the way you wanted. Boy, did I want to win. At EVERYTHING. Even now, as an adult, I love to win. I hate losing at anything. I don't throw a fit over losing. I don't gloat when I win. I just want the intrinsic response that comes with winning. That can look like a lot of things for me. I play in a recreation volleyball league. I send my writing to publishers. I run road races (though not as many as I used to). As time has gone by, I find myself competing with myself more than with others. Growing up I played team sports. It was harder to win and lose with other people. Did we win from a collective effort, or did one person lead the team? Did we lose because one person was terrible, or did we all suck? That is still the toughest part for me. Losing a volleyball game because one person can't seem to pass the ball is frustrating. Winning a basketball game knowing you scored over half of the team's points is a pride builder. Being competitive with grace is difficult. But no matter what, my competition is my own. I have learned to compete against myself to better myself. Running has helped me a great deal with that. I run against my old times. I try to be better than the last time. I add miles. I add stairs. There are so many ways to get myself to focus on bettering myself. Even in my work I can fight against myself. Yesterday you got three pages written, today get something! (Okay, that might literally be my day today. Long week. Oh well.) But I focus on comparing myself to myself, not others. I can look outside and see a thin woman out for a run and think, "I can beat her!" or "Go get it, girl!" There are times when I need to compete against others for some motivation, but it's more fun to encourage others to compete as well. However, there is one area of competition that I will not enter - my family. For some reason we live in a world where it is fun to compare our children to each other than to let them play together. For this, I cannot comprehend. I have stopped posting about the great things that my children do because it hurts other people's feelings. WHAT? I am limiting the joy of my children for fear that other parents will compare their child to mine? I must be out of my mind. But I would rather keep friendships than look like a braggart. (I'm sorry, but my kids could get an awesomeness post 80% of our days. It's poor form.) I don't bring up the good things about my kids to show them off to the world. I'm just a proud mama. I see mama bear posts all the time. Do you know what I do? I hit the like button. Because our children are not in competition with each other. One day my kid might be smarter than yours, and next year yours could take the lead. Wonderful. That competition, should come from our children's desire to grow and do better, not ours to make our kids better. I'm tired of having a pissing contest with our children. Don't get me wrong, when our kids play sports against each other, there is now a competition. One will win. One will lose. If they are teammates, there will be competition. One is better (whether specifically in an area or in general) and one is worse. That's just life. It's not up to us to start talking about how great little Timmy is at baseball with condescension in our voice. It's up to our kids to decide they want to be better and fight for it. There is healthy competition for our children. In fact, it's the lack of healthy competition that is destroying this country. Children are fine with a trophy that says their parents paid for them to play than earning a trophy. This is how we weed out the losers from the winners. Parents are always saying how they hope their children grow into great adults, but they haven't raised great children yet. Teach kids it is okay to want to be the best and watch what will happen. Don't force them. If they don't want to be great at baseball, let them stop now before you invest their inheritance in it. Competition of whose kid is better than whose is a waste of human life. If you are proud of your child, that's fantastic. Be proud. Let me see the picture of your child with their EARNED rewards. I will like your post all day (unless they just beat my child). Don't turn your posts, your comments, or your actual conversations into a discussion about how your kid is better than mine or the neighbor's. Let your kid be awesome because they are. Let them stand alone. If you would like to compete with me, sure thing. Let's have a blast. Learn to compete with yourself and make yourself better. But don't enter your children into your contest. They aren't you. Teach them to compete on their own. Everyone will be better for it. Tell me what you want, what you really, really, want - The Spice Girls
Did you sing it? Did you answer it? The answer is gibberish because the Spice Girls didn't know. But I think I do. Knowledge. Each person desires knowledge. Outside of love, I would say it is the top item of interest for humans. Don't believe me? Wikipedia Dictionaries Encyclopedias BOOKS TV Websites Radio We are so into knowledge that we don't even realize we are gaining it each day. Now- please note that I do not believe that all knowledge is valuable, necessary, or educational. Knowledge is just facts (or in some cases perceived facts). Even if you are an atheist and you look at the Bible as mere literature, you will see that the very first book within the Bible, in the third chapter we see knowledge. Honestly, knowledge comes in during the second chapter where it says that God placed the tree of life in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil (v. 9). But the desire for knowledge comes a little later. Chapter three the serpent entices the woman (her husband was with her so don't blame women for everything). The serpent could have enticed with the tree of life, but it didn't. It enticed with knowledge. Perhaps the thinking was that if they ate of the tree of knowledge they would then be able to decide if they also would like to partake of the fruit of the tree of life. I don't know. I wasn't there. But for man and woman the idea of knowledge was tantalizing. Every person today now seeks more and more knowledge. There is knowledge of cars. There is knowledge of construction. There is knowledge of the human body and mind. Pick a topic and somebody is studying it. And there are people that are studying the good, and there are others studying the evil. Regardless, there is a constant flow of knowledge. We have gone so far as to have TV shows dedicated to the knowledge of celebrities. I for one, could not care less. I don't know their names. I don't know their shoe size. If I have any knowledge of a celebrity it is either because they did something good for the world, something bad, or something stupid. Yet others will tell you all about their favorite actors, musicians, and whomever. We see a constant thirst for knowledge. We see schools and educations being given across the globe and degrees lining the walls of doctors everywhere. But we also see it in our communities - both for good and evil. Gossip is merely the sharing of knowledge of another person or situation. It might be false knowledge, but the people sharing it do not know that at the time. Friends and family members share facts about loved ones sometimes out of concern, seeking help, or celebration, yes, Timmy is the best at everything. Either way, we are still in this suction of longing for knowledge. I, too, seek knowledge on the regular basis. I long to go back to college, yet I have no idea what I want to study! I just want to learn something in hopes of it making me better at something in some way, shape, or form. I read everyday. Even if I'm reading fiction, I'm reading to make myself a better writer - watching how different authors phrase sentences, or seeing how stories are placed solely on the backs of their characters or setting. I long to know what my kids know. I learn new items of health and fitness regularly to keep myself at the top of my game. Here's the thing that keeps coming back to me though: I spent four years in high school seeing the same mural between the band room and the cafeteria. It read, "If knowledge is power, and power corrupts, does knowledge corrupt?" I spent four years contemplating that. I spent countless more repeating it in my mind trying to answer the question. Don't get me wrong, I gave the whole, "I suppose it depends on who holds this knowledge" backwards, dodging the question answer. Then one day it clicked. Knowledge is having the facts. Wisdom is understanding the knowledge we have. When wisdom is used, the power of the knowledge will not be used for corruption. It's like the difference between sharing something about a friend for a right reason and a wrong reason. Wisdom will say, "So-and-so doesn't need to know about Jewel's big screw up. However, Ms Thang should know that Jewel isn't making great choices and could use some prayer." Knowledge says, "I know this about ....." Wisdom says, "I know how to use what I know about ...." People know about cars. That means they can use that knowledge to fix cars or steal them. One of those options is wise. No matter whether a person gains wisdom or not, knowledge is so desperately desired. We are constantly searching to know more. And it all started from a serpent and a piece of fruit. Have you ever driven somewhere only to find out it was closed? Maybe you went somewhere because you were asked to go, but the reason you went was pointless. Heck, have you ever watched a t-ball game?! There are times when we are just wasting our time.
Recently my son decided to waste time in his schoolwork. There is a difficult balance in our home these days. Because of my summer work schedule there is one morning where my children are unsupervised during their morning work. I came in at one point and saw my son staring out the dining room window as if all would be right in the world if he was out in the neighbor's tree like a bird. I don't know. Who knows what he was thinking. It was probably the monkey clapping cymbals over and over. As lunch time approached I told my son to "Salvage the day!" After then defining the word salvage, he understood. Hours had been wasted. We cannot get them back. However, he had the opportunity to take back the rest of the day. He could, in fact, wake up! He didn't. He finished the day with about half of his work completed. So we then focused on salvaging the week. His Tuesday Bible study even discussed how God can take what was wasted and turn it to something beautiful. So he began to work. His focus was better. His mindset was better. But deep down inside, he knew he was behind. It irked him. I could sense the anxiety building within him. That is when I stepped in. Yes, there were things that needed to be done, but worrying will keep us from doing them. I did my best to guide him. He not only finished the day, he went back and made up some from the day before. He began his salvaging experience. We have the opportunity to salvage every single day. Salvage the time we do have rather than mourn the time we lost (this one is me completely!) Salvage the relationship before the lines are severed. Salvage the work you can get done while the time is available. Do you know the actual definition of salvage? The definition is to rescue from loss at sea. I know that probably means you think I'm a little off my rocker. Jewel, we are not deep sea diving. And yet, when life is going wrong, doesn't it feel like we are on a sinking ship? The easiest thing to do is throw up your hands and say, "Well, it's gone. Might as well move on." The hard thing is to say, "Nope, this is mine. I choose to take it! I will go find it. I will rescue what is mine!" Here's the ultimate point to take with as we deep sea dive. It. Isn't. Ours. Our day, our time, our relationships, our work, our money, our everything belongs to God. Have you ever had someone ask you to take care of something for you? Maybe you were babysitting or dog walking. It could be a house sitting situation or borrowing a friends car. Do you take care of other people's belongings better than your own? I know I do. When someone allows me to drive their car while mine is in the shop, you better believe it comes back with a full tank and cleaned up. I have house sat and looked in on cats. I make sure the mail is organized, the cat is fed, has fresh water, water the plants, sweep the floors, brush the cat, on and on. I could do more in 30 minutes of caring for a neighbor's cat than I do in my own house in three days. Why? Because it isn't mine. I would feel terrible if something happened to the cat while the owner is away. I would hate for them to come home from driving all night and find the house a mess. I want them to be happy that I was there to care for it. Now view your life that way. It isn't yours. God has given you breath. How will you use it? God has given you a voice. How will you speak? God has given you a job, a calling, a purpose. What will you do with it? When life is going crazy around you and the ship begins to sink, will you dive in to rescue what God has given you or will you throw your hands up in exasperation? God has salvaged much. What you are allowed to use, must be used fully. Go dive deep! I'm excited. Tonight might be a major night for my son. Tonight might bring his first real fight. Yes, many of you know he is in taekwondo. Yes, he does sparring against classmates. But that is full gear... and on Fridays. Tonight, my son might get a chance to knock someone out.
I can hear the screeching tires of your brains as the cars collide and wreckage is seen and heard for miles, but just hear me out. For the past month my children have been playing soccer every Tuesday and Thursday evening. For AJ this has been great fun. She runs around exhausted from the unbearable heat pretending like she is the next winner of the World Cup. She isn't all that great at soccer, but she's four so...who cares? Her team wins many of the matches (not that anyone is keeping score) and there are a few teams that they play against as this is a smaller league in their first year. The problem with a small league in their first year is that different age groups might be bigger or smaller. Last fall, my son played flag football for this league and there were only two teams. Funny thing, soccer is in the same boat. There are only two teams. This means that you play each other over and over again. Twice a week these two teams have battled it out. Hmm.. perhaps that isn't the best word. They don't so much as battle as they do, show up. The other team seems to be stacked with players that have seen and touched a soccer ball before. Ours? Well, I think one or two might have played for a rec team before. One problem with soccer is that it is a full contact sport. Many don't realize it, but outside of the floppers, there can actually be some pretty big hits. My son's team has a player that delivers big hits. Oh, no, he doesn't mean to. He is truly going after the ball. It's his first time playing soccer so sometimes he forgets that you can't push people off you. He's also the tallest kid on the field for either team. So if you knock around with him, you're likely to end up on the ground. Well, he spent a game on the bench back and forth because he was having a hard time keeping his hands down - and the other coach is a whiny little thing. Our player has learned his lesson. He has worked very hard to keep his hands to himself and not push people. Quite a transformation in the short amount of time. However, instead of the other coach commending our player for the transformation, she has sent her goons. Okay, I don't believe that. What I do believe is that she is turning a blind eye to what her players are doing to this child. For instance, their best player is shoving and kicking (as in the ball is to his right and he is kicking left). This is where my son comes in. I was livid after our last game. Furious beyond measure. How could these coaches (who must ref their own games) not call the heinous acts of this player as a penalty? Well, if players are taking matters into their own hands, mine will to. In case you have nothing to do and want to show up to a little kids' soccer match, this is what you might just see. 1. My son is to approach the nasty player and give him warning. "Do not kick my player. We see what you are doing. It is not okay." 2. If this child proceeds in dirty play, my son is to lower his shoulder and lay the kid out. Not in the back, he must see it coming. Shoulder to shoulder, or straight into the chest. 3. My son must immediately reach his hand down to help him up while saying, "Leave my teammate alone." You might think I'm crazy, but, okay, I'm crazy. I just can't help it. It is our job to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. Look, this kid could probably take down their entire team. He's big and strong. But this is a fight he needs to sit out of. There are too many issues in this world for this fight. And yes, race is a big reason to stay out of it. This CHILD needs to see that not all white kids are against black kids. This CHILD needs to see that if he keeps pressing on, others will take on the fight for him. My goodness, the child needs love. And sometimes that love means that someone else is sticking up for them. In our lives we may not always come across those that we assume to be downtrodden. People today hide their shortcomings. Scripturally, we should be caring for the poor, the widow, and the orphan. Unless they are pushing a shopping cart with aluminum cans, I don't know if someone is poor. And what is the definition of poor these days? With divorce rates as high as they are, how do we know if someone is a widow or a divorcee? What if the cause of divorce was something terrible like physical abuse? Does that now allow for us to care for them? I would think so! That is like telling an orphan we cannot care for them because their parents are alive and just don't want them versus dead! It is my job to help those who cannot help themselves every chance that I get. I know I fail at that daily. I know I miss cues and clues that would key me in to a hurting soul. But at least I'm trying and know that I'm lacking. And I know when to fight for others. Today might be a day I watch my son get punched in the face. If he does so for a just cause, let his eye swell with dignity. I might see my son get punched twice. That's because I told him to take the first one like a champ and walk away. After the second one he will have permission to use any force necessary (let's make that green belt count). Life is full of lessons. I was taught that if someone hit me to hit them back and twice as hard so they wouldn't hit me again. I was taught never to start the fight, but make sure I finish it. In times like these when there is anticipation that typically leads to nothing, I find myself reflecting on Jesus in the temple. I can picture him walking into the temple gates and immediately begin to fume. I can picture a clenched jaw and flared nostrils. The disciples try to calm him and he puts a hand up. They know. Don't interfere. Then what does he do? He sits. He sits and MAKES a whip. History teaches us that it would take about three hours to do that. I see him muttering under his breath, "These people think they can just set up shop in my Father's house? Who do they think they are?" And finally the whip is complete and he stands ready to show justice. When I began coaching I had to instill this motto in my girls: Jesus is meek, not weak. I share it every chance I get. Jesus walked humbly on this earth, but he was no man's doormat. The first time I spoke about this concept I asked the girls what Jesus' profession was. They knew. Carpenter. I asked how many power saws he had, and nail guns, and drills. They looked at me like I was nuts. Then I asked if any of them had ever used tools and built things and a few had. Girls were starting to understand that just for Jesus to make wage for food, he had to have some good ole fashion muscle on him. Jesus probably had abs of steel! (Yes, that will be one of my questions in eternity.) Jesus walked this earth as a strong man, humble, loving, and hard working. Best of all, he fought for the little guy. He stuck up for those who were outcasts and nobodies. He raised a boy to life so that his widowed mother wouldn't be alone. He dealt with social injustice on the front line. I may or may not witness a fight tonight, but I know I have begun to instill in my son the idea that it is not okay to sit back and watch when we can put an end to injustice. |
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