Saturday, April 16, 2016

Maybe Mrs. Frizzle's on to something.

Let's just all admit we're wrong.

And that's okay. Or, at least it's something we can work with.

Don't get me wrong (that is don't misunderstand the point I'm trying to make). I'm not trying to say that we shouldn't change or move on but let's call it what it is.

I admit, I was wrong. I'm moving on, I've moved on. I've changed and I'm trying to make it right.

There, that wasn't so hard.

And no. It's not okay. It's not okay to know it and not acknowledge it.

Secant: inconsistency isn't always wrong. Sometimes it's an essential part of growth. Don't justify being stuck in a rut by calling it consistency. Do what it takes to get up out of the rut and move forward. But let's not forget were we came from.

Let's call it what it was and admit we're wrong. Or we were. But we're changing, growing and learning and hey don't forget mistakes are a great learning process.

In clear language, I'm tired of times when we lie to ourselves while lying to others about who we were. I'm tired of the way we verbally retcon our lives-for what? To avoid admitting we've ever made mistakes?

As though we achieved perfection at some tender age and have had our act together every since.

Pretending we've always been who we are just seems a good way to always stay the same. I can't see how denying past mistakes encourages future growth.

So let's all just admit we're wrong, or we were. Mistakes are part of life and acknowledging them is part of living. Or growing. And sometimes those things are the same.

EDIT: xkcd put this up the other day and I was struck by how much it reminded me of this post. All credit goes to Randall Munroe and all that jazz.

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Kisim Marimari

It was some time later when we spoke again. Apparently our previous conversation burned as hot still in his mind as it did in mine for we picked up the loose threads with no time spent untangling.

Unsure of which of the many questions I'd been stewing I stayed silent a moment.

He answered my unspoken. "Where then draw the line? Is there a difference between asking a friend for a ride and asking for bus fair? Can we place some things in the 'trust God box' some in a different box?

" I think it at least partly comes down to trust and motivation. No matter what we should be looking to and trusting God to meet our needs. All of them. So again, if he chooses to use a friend to do so that's fine. And thank your friends. Just don't forget where that provision comes from. In all things give thanks to Him..."

He trailed off. I followed the thought a little bit farther.

"Sometimes it feels different asking for money versus asking for favors. Though I suppose," now I was thinking out loud. "I suppose that with my close friends I would consider it the same."

"And don't eschew making known your need." He cut in. "I know, for you especially, it's hard putting yourself out there like that. But people have to know. You need to give the church the opportunity to be the church to you. Wether that's praying, giving money or helping in another way. And, they need to be hearing what God's doing for and through you."

I chuckled quietly. "You know how hard that is for me. But your right, I'd hate and condemn it if others held me at arm's length the way I try to do to them. It's especially hypocritical considering how much I preach transparency."

I'd lost my other questions somewhere along the way...


We sat in silence for a while. Watching the sun set through its reflection off our surroundings till it did no more.

The candle he lighted could have symbolised my mind. I grabbed the first thought the light drew to the surface.

"Sometimes I have to combat a sense of entitlement. These feelings like because I have more I deserve more. Which is alright u suppose until I start demanding my reward from other people."

"Right." He replied. "We give without expecting a return; or even recognition for that matter. God's keeping track and that's good enough."

"Praise to Him that He gives more than what we earn."

"And that He meets us where we're at instead of where we think we are." I stared into the flickering flame as he spoke. It seemed to dart about without reason, now here, now there, sometimes fading and then bursting into unexpected brilliance.

"Hmm. Yeah." I spoke quietly. Our entire conversation had deepened to murmurs. "Sometimes more, sometimes less. Always giving what I need. Though not as often what I want."

The candle had waned to a pile of wax when he prodded me on. "That's not all."

"No." I paused a moment. As a bird runs beak through feathers, I straightened my thoughts.
"The other side of that coin is that I feel I deserve as much the next guy. If he got that why don't I? And if God gives him this why not me?
It's even worse when I only look at men. It's easy to feel undervalued."

I knew what he'd say next. "Remind me of a story I heard once. About workers and wages."

"It's this thought that we all deserve equal pay and/or rewards. An easy lie to get caught up in considering how much equality is preached in our culture." I answered.

"But not in the Bible..." He let that sit for a moment before picking it up again. "What it comes down to is treating someone elses generosity as your right."

"And I've seen were that leads." We grew silent. I wondered if it meant anything to our conversation that the candle flickered out.