Sin g Son g Searcher
Nature Sings...
Why am I too deaf to hear?
People offer me their lives in pleasantly wrapped packages,
Why do I toss them aside?
God looks down from heaven and weeps.
Why do I not catch his tears & wash myself clean?
A word fitly spoken is all I can muster;
With quiet resignation I stand in my space.
A line here, a thought there.
Ideas, they mean nothing.
My mind open and closed,
Why this tragic human race.
Freaking Hang Nails
I used to have a horrible problem with hang nails. They are not only painful, but a constant source of irritation. The tips of my fingers would bleed and sting when I yanked off the little pieces of semi-dead skin. Then after years of suffering, I decided to take some clippers to work to keep in my desk, and whenever a little hang nail appeared I would clip it instead of tearing the skin away. Voila…no more hang nail problems. I thought I had bad cuticles or something, but it turns out I was just taking the wrong approach to deal with it.
When thinking about this the other day, I began to wonder what other painful or annoying situations in my life I was blaming on some inherent problem when it was only my flawed behavior that was causing the agony. Most glaring was my tendency to argue about everything. Having a constant desire to be “right” isn’t something I can even deny after having been told about by so many people for so many years. I’m just not sure what to do about it.
No one wakes up in the morning and says, “I can’t wait to be wrong about a bunch of stuff today.” Often my arguments are meant to be constructive in the problem solving sense. Now, in my mid-thirties, I realize I have surrounded myself with people that fit two categories: 1) they either like to argue and have some skill at it (e.g. Adam or Christian) or 2) they refuse to engage me at all (e.g. my wife and my mother). However, I think I would better off in some relationships if I could, at the very least, tone down the rhetoric, or even better just keep my mouth shut after a certain point.
When thinking about this the other day, I began to wonder what other painful or annoying situations in my life I was blaming on some inherent problem when it was only my flawed behavior that was causing the agony. Most glaring was my tendency to argue about everything. Having a constant desire to be “right” isn’t something I can even deny after having been told about by so many people for so many years. I’m just not sure what to do about it.
No one wakes up in the morning and says, “I can’t wait to be wrong about a bunch of stuff today.” Often my arguments are meant to be constructive in the problem solving sense. Now, in my mid-thirties, I realize I have surrounded myself with people that fit two categories: 1) they either like to argue and have some skill at it (e.g. Adam or Christian) or 2) they refuse to engage me at all (e.g. my wife and my mother). However, I think I would better off in some relationships if I could, at the very least, tone down the rhetoric, or even better just keep my mouth shut after a certain point.
A Quick Word About Welfare
As a fairly die-hard libertarian you might think you know where I stand on the welfare issue. I have stated before in this blog, one of the primary pillars of my political ideology is summed up in the statement, “When the government does something that we should be doing for ourselves it makes us a weaker nation.”
How does this relate to welfare? First let me define the term. By welfare, I am mean financial support for a parent who is the full-time primary caregiver for a child without sufficient support from a spouse or the child’s other parent. Traditionally this would be the child’s mother, and I will assume this generalization for the remainder of the post.
When the situation of the single parent without adequate outside support is examined in light of the statement regarding government action in the first paragraph, the exception becomes obvious. The full-time mother is not supposed to be providing the financial support for the family unit. The role she can best to fulfill is providing nurture, protection, and guidance for her children. Ideally, the financial support would come from a husband, the children’s father, family members, or private charitable organizations, but with the explosion of single parent homes and the failure of fathers, the private scenario is not nearly as prevalent as most of us would like it to be.
Bottom line, I want our government to provide financial assistance for the full-time single parents even though the incentives it creates may not be ideal. My heart tells me that a child should not be taken from a mother, and my reasoning tells me that most often the mother has the instinct and incentives to best raise their own children. I just don’t see another solution.
How does this relate to welfare? First let me define the term. By welfare, I am mean financial support for a parent who is the full-time primary caregiver for a child without sufficient support from a spouse or the child’s other parent. Traditionally this would be the child’s mother, and I will assume this generalization for the remainder of the post.
When the situation of the single parent without adequate outside support is examined in light of the statement regarding government action in the first paragraph, the exception becomes obvious. The full-time mother is not supposed to be providing the financial support for the family unit. The role she can best to fulfill is providing nurture, protection, and guidance for her children. Ideally, the financial support would come from a husband, the children’s father, family members, or private charitable organizations, but with the explosion of single parent homes and the failure of fathers, the private scenario is not nearly as prevalent as most of us would like it to be.
Bottom line, I want our government to provide financial assistance for the full-time single parents even though the incentives it creates may not be ideal. My heart tells me that a child should not be taken from a mother, and my reasoning tells me that most often the mother has the instinct and incentives to best raise their own children. I just don’t see another solution.
The Typical Marriage Conversation
We had just returned home from church on a Wednesday evening in early September. I was using the bathroom with the door open as most families with small children are likely to do as my wife stalked me in the hall waiting for me to take the baby so she could have her turn.
I asked my wife, “What is the thermostat set on?”
She replied, “I just turned it down.”
I smiled as it is one of my pet aggravations when questions are not answered. After a few seconds I asked again in a deliberately calmer tone, “What is the thermostat set on?”
“It’s set on 74, but I guess I’ll turn it down to 73. I’m sure you’re all sweaty from holding the baby along with your extra layer of fat.” The fat comment was not as biting as it might seem. To put it in context, we had recently been discussing how I was uncommonly and uncomfortably warm most of the time, and I had hypothesized that my weight gain was like the layer of blubber on a walrus or a man wearing a wet suit. Her next comment, no doubt in response to my repeat of the exact same question, actually made me laugh out loud. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” She spouted in frustration.
Once again attempting to be more congenial that the situation required, I finished saying, “I wanted to know what the thermostat was set on.”
The conversation continued with her explaining how she inferred the meaning of my question from my previous comments. I couldn’t stop laughing. By the way, Solo laughter is one of the worst things that can happen during a typical marriage conversation. The dilemma was clear. She had made the correct read, and reluctantly facilitated my desired result. However, my question was not answered, and the communication process had definitely broken down. I was to please with my observation to be the least bit upset, and she was soon distracted with her turn in the bathroom (with the door closed) so no harm was done in the making of this blog. I am a very blessed man. (see below)
I asked my wife, “What is the thermostat set on?”
She replied, “I just turned it down.”
I smiled as it is one of my pet aggravations when questions are not answered. After a few seconds I asked again in a deliberately calmer tone, “What is the thermostat set on?”
“It’s set on 74, but I guess I’ll turn it down to 73. I’m sure you’re all sweaty from holding the baby along with your extra layer of fat.” The fat comment was not as biting as it might seem. To put it in context, we had recently been discussing how I was uncommonly and uncomfortably warm most of the time, and I had hypothesized that my weight gain was like the layer of blubber on a walrus or a man wearing a wet suit. Her next comment, no doubt in response to my repeat of the exact same question, actually made me laugh out loud. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” She spouted in frustration.
Once again attempting to be more congenial that the situation required, I finished saying, “I wanted to know what the thermostat was set on.”
The conversation continued with her explaining how she inferred the meaning of my question from my previous comments. I couldn’t stop laughing. By the way, Solo laughter is one of the worst things that can happen during a typical marriage conversation. The dilemma was clear. She had made the correct read, and reluctantly facilitated my desired result. However, my question was not answered, and the communication process had definitely broken down. I was to please with my observation to be the least bit upset, and she was soon distracted with her turn in the bathroom (with the door closed) so no harm was done in the making of this blog. I am a very blessed man. (see below)
Slumdog
I watched the film "Slumdog Millionaire" last night, and was blown away byt he effective use of storytelling and character development. The scenes of the children running through the slums really captured the feeling and look that I imagine exists in the slums of India's larger cities. However, there were two things that the movie left me with.
The first is the nausea that words cannot accurately describe that came over me as I looked around my comfortable yet modest living room (by American standards) after seeing the horrors forced upon the children in film. My brother who has done some mission work in India confirms that it is commonplace for children to be maimed or blinded in order to increase their earning potential as beggars. It is definately time for me to re-read "Revolution in World Missions" . You can receive a free copy by following the preceeding link.
The second thought pales in importance, but I was curious about the strong concept of "destiny" that consumed Jamal in the film. I wonder how a muslim growing up in a predominanly Hindu culture gained that belief. It appears to be summed up in the phrase: "It is written". Maybe Danielle (one of my only readers) could shed some light on this, and if we are lucky even a few of her own thoughts on the film as she has just returned from India.
The first is the nausea that words cannot accurately describe that came over me as I looked around my comfortable yet modest living room (by American standards) after seeing the horrors forced upon the children in film. My brother who has done some mission work in India confirms that it is commonplace for children to be maimed or blinded in order to increase their earning potential as beggars. It is definately time for me to re-read "Revolution in World Missions" . You can receive a free copy by following the preceeding link.
The second thought pales in importance, but I was curious about the strong concept of "destiny" that consumed Jamal in the film. I wonder how a muslim growing up in a predominanly Hindu culture gained that belief. It appears to be summed up in the phrase: "It is written". Maybe Danielle (one of my only readers) could shed some light on this, and if we are lucky even a few of her own thoughts on the film as she has just returned from India.
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