Sometimes It's Hard Bein' a Girl

And ya just have to let it all out . . .

. . . like when you've worked really hard to get somewhere only to find that the new place is just not quite as comfortable as where you were before;

. . . or like when someone's let you down and you find yourself just flat laid out;

or like when you've been unfairly attacked by someone close to you . . .

Or, perhaps worst of all, like when -- no matter how hard you try -- you just can't make those new shoes work with that new outfit.

Being the Purple Cow

There are two blogs out in Cyberspace that I've attached my name to (or at least an alias that a few folks would readily recognize). And sometimes I think I need to obliterate at least one of them (if not both) 'cause, truth be told, I'm really not a very good blogger. I mean, at least in the case of this blog, I'm not very faithful at it.

(As far as the other blog goes, I just kind of suck all the way around -- not only am I not very consistent with my posting, but the content quality is . . . shall we be kind and say sporadic? And the pics are REALLY pitiful -- I mean like in PIH-TEE-FUL -- plumb, downright awful, in fact. And that's not a good thing since the content -- decorating, nesting, trash-to-treasuring, etc. -- is pretty dependent on visual aids. Plus, I mean, what can I really say or show that's not already being said or shown out there? And by others who are much better at saying it and showing it! And I'm not being cutesy coy or falsely modest here, just tellin' it like it is.)

It's one of those times now. I'm at one of those places where I'm wondering if I should keep at it, and if so, why I should keep at it. Then, again, maybe I'm asking myself the wrong questions because to be honest, I have to write. (Simply put, I'm a writer. I must put words "on paper" just as I must take in oxygen and chocolate.) And because I'm compelled to continue to play with words, perhaps what I need to figure out is not the ifs or the whys but the hows.

I've already said that writing is something I have to do. (Not writing is not an option for a writer.) But it's entirely possible that I've let my how get so pushed and pulled and distorted-beyond-recognition by the hows of everyone else out there in Blogland that, rather than being me (really the only thing I'm totally qualified for), I've unwittingly tried to be someone else -- one of those blogging sistahs out there whose work I soooooo admire and enjoy -- and I'm failing miserably.

So, what I think I'd better figure out is not if or why I will continue to blog, but how I should continue to blog. Let me repeat that for my own benefit: Not how anyone else does it, but how I do it.

And then I need to learn to be content with my own how and not covet anyone else's how.

Actually, I probably have a lot that I need to learn to be content with, while not coveting anything else that belongs to my "neighbor" -- not her house, her talents, her looks, her ministry . . .

In that light, focusing on my own how-to-blog seems like pretty easy stuff.

How now, brown cow?

Maybe I'll be the purple cow. And love it.

Grins,

Pamm

Dealing With Difficult People

Someone once said, “Being in ministry is great . . . if only I didn’t have to deal with people!” (Sounds pretty close to my own, “I love teaching -- it’s the darn kids that drive me crazy!”)

I get that, and I bet you do, too. Some people are just harder to deal with, aren’t they? And even those folks we normally find charming often have idiosyncrasies that just plain get on our last nerves at times. (Believe it or not, even I’ve been known to drive a few, select people crazy!) Then again, there are those people who, because of their own lack of social skills, tact, or sensitivity, are constantly stepping on our “feelers,” much like a blind person might stumble over and onto our toes. And once in a blue moon, we even run across someone who actually seems to downright relish stomping on us.

What to do?

Well, one thing’s for sure, we can’t do what comes naturally, which would probably be to send some stomping, stepping, bumping, and bruising right back at the offending party.

How come not?

‘Cause Jesus didn’t call us to be natural people. He called us to love -- and not just love any ol’ way, but to love our neighbors as we love ourselves (He said it was the second most important commandment!) . . . to love as He loves . . . (now there’s a doozy.)

How in the world -- literally -- do we do that? Certainly not on our own, I can tell you that. (Been there, tried that, big fat flop!) That’s why we have to continue to walk in the Spirit, by the Spirit. And even that’s pretty tough on most days.

Still, I’m gonna keep at it. I’ve found that I’m so much better off trying to walk with Him, even when I fall short, than when I don’t try at all -- when I choose to get up and run off on my own. (That’s probably when I’m most like to be the person driving someone else up the wall!)

Until next week, grins and blessings!

Pamm

Getting Up and Going Again . . .

I once told a friend that I was so good at making apologies because I’d had to make so many . . . apologies, amends, repairs, redos . . . we’ve all been there. In fact, when you consider the many areas in which we have the possibility of falling flat on our faces, it’s pretty amazing that we don’t slip up or just outright fail more often than we do.

Home, work, school, church . . . all places where we can fall short. Our parents, our siblings, our spouses, our children, our friends, our colleagues, our selves . . . all people we can let down at one time or another. And, of course, adding to the weight of our screw-ups at some place or with someone is the sense that we’ve somehow failed God, too.

Been there, done that. (You, too?) I take great comfort and find tremendous encouragement, though, in the fact that Moses, David, Jonah, Peter, Paul, John Mark -- so many of our brothers in the faith -- all stumbled at one time or another, too, and yet God lifted them from the dust where they landed, picked them up, and, when they were ready, enabled them to continue the journey, all the while walking with them, hand in hand.

And like me, I bet those fellow struggling saints hardly noticed their scraped knuckles and ragged, torn nails as long as their hands were tucked tenderly into His.

What a gracious Heavenly Papa we have.

Grins and blessings,

Pamm

Saving and Counting the Cost

I have to tell you that I thought a lesson on saving money -- that's the Weekend Bible Study (WBS) lesson I was supposed to teach at the Big Church -- would be a pretty boring lesson. I mean, what is there to it? "God wants us to save money." Now what else are we going to say? So, to be honest, I was pretty relieved when Easter Sunday morning "bumped" me from my usual teaching schedule.

However, just for drill, I read through the material and studied the lesson anyway and was quickly reminded that, as with everything in our lives, the reasoning, the heart, if you will, behind why we do anything -- saving, spending, or whatever -- is really the meat of the matter. And with that in mind, I discovered that there were actually some pretty important points we needed to consider behind the idea of saving. So when it came time to teach my next class, I knew I needed to combine the lesson we'd missed with the one for the current week, "Counting the Cost."

It turned out that a lesson on counting the cost was a full of as much food for thought as any other lesson we'd had, but if I were honest, metaphorically, it was one of the few all-you-can-eat buffets that, left on my own, I'd have had no trouble passing up.

I mean, the truths those lessons exposed us to are hard ones -- ones that I personally struggle mightily with. Like most folks, including many of us "set-apart" people, I tend to think of the money in my bank account as just that: MINE! And if there's any left over after paying the bills, then it's MINE to SPEND! but if I take the time to recognize and acknowledge that it's all really Papa-God's and that I'm the steward -- the caretaker -- of those funds, then well, it puts a whole 'nother spin on things. One that, frankly leaves my head spinning!

Still, if I truly want to pour myself totally into Papa-God's hands, then that means pouring all of myself into His hand -- including my finances. Now I'm used to trusting God to provide finances -- and He's always been faithful -- but I'm not used to His trusting me to then, in turn, proved Him with finances. And isn't that part of what we're learning? that He provides us with resources so that we can then use those resources to accomplish His will and purpose? (Top often, I find myself much more committed to accomplishing my will and purpose.)

Yup, recognizing that Papa-God's name is on "my" bank account definitely puts a different spin on things, and sometimes it leaves us all felling a bit dizzy.

Food for thought. Eat up!

Grins!

Pamm

Contentment

I once heard a well-known tele-evangelist comment on the need for some "retail therapy." She'd had a busy few days, she said, hadn't had a chance to go shopping for a while (at least a week or two), and so she told her husband that she really needed to stop by a favorite store on the way home from the conference where she was speaking, just to buy a little something to perk herself up. There was a definite sense of entitlement hanging in the air as she shared the details of her exhilarating drive-by shopping trip. I don't remember her story having any point other than that God wants to indulge all of His children with nice baubles and beautiful things -- that after all, as as children of the King, we should be cloaked in nothing less than the finest of royal robes, with our jewel-encrusted signet rings firmly in place (my words, not hers, but that was the drift).

Except for the attempted spiritual spin, isn't that the same message we're bombarded with daily from the Madison Avenue marketing crowd?

You know you want it. You need it. And, heck!
You've earned it, and you deserve it! (Oh, and if
you haven't yet earned it, you can always get it
on credit! You know, "Fake it 'til you make it!")

And when that kind of message comes from those who are supposedly on our team, is it any wonder that many of us who are called to be the set-apart ones end up acting not a whole lot different from the rest of the world? Is it any wonder that we, too, begin to develop our own sense of entitlement? That we, too, buy into the idea of purchasing power -- the idea that if we can buy sex appeal, status, and significan stuff, then surely financing a little contentment ought to be a drop in the bucket.

But we are called to be the set-apart ones -- those who live differently because of who we are in Christ. And how we use the resources we're given -- whether we use them to garner the things we think will bring us contentment or whether we trust God for our contentment and allow Him to direct how we use our resources -- is one of the greatest indicators of whether we're living the set-apart life.

Financial guru Dave Ramsey puts it this way: We are to "live like no one else so that we can live like no one else." I can't think of a better way to describe every aspect of the set-apart life we are called to.

Sitting Pretty - Part 2

Well, I'm still sitting.
After three days back at work juggling papers, entering grades to make sure my kids' report cards would get out on time, trying to get caught up on anything else that had lapsed in my almost-four-week absence, I finally got around to calling the district's benefits department to ask about my short-term disability payments. (Yes, I know I should have done this much earlier, but that's another epistle entirely.)


"Are you in a weight-bearing cast or a walking boot?"

"No, but I'm in a wheelchair, so I'm okay."

It seems I wasn't. Our school district gives new meaning to the phrase "stand on your own two feet." It appears that that unless I can do that, I am not fully able to teach my children, and that means I must stay home until I can. (Stand on my own two feet, that is.) Thus, I have once again become one with the couch and shall remain so for at least the next three weeks.

While this frustrates me to no end -- as I feel it is my kids who will end up "sitting on the sidelines" right with me; there's no way around it, a guest teacher can't do what I do -- it gives me more time to practice my sitting, and as you may have gathered from my previous writing, I haven't done it all that well so far.

I admit to having a few moments of intense feeling sorry for myself (please don't ask St. Michael to elaborate -- there is that idea of spousal privilege, y'know), I have decided to choose to look at this as the gift I know it is: I am being given another chance to maybe get this sitting thing right.

So if you see me, hold me accountable and ask me how my sitting is going. Am I sitting and stewing (like something on the verge of boiling over)? Sitting and sour-ing (like a nasty old kitchen sponge)? Or am I spending my day sitting and soaking up the Son (like the Kingdom citizen that I truly am in my innermost being)?

Yup, you'd better ask me. I need to know you will.