It seems everyone wants to be normal, to fit into regular society. To blend in with others around them. To have a sense of belonging in society as they know it. The question most often over looked is just because something is normal, does that make it right?
The popular question is, “What is normal?” This question is often asked, but hardly ever put into the right context for the society in which you live, or want to live. What is normal in a small rural Midwest town, is obviously not what is normal in New York city. It’s not that either society is wrong on what is normal, it is only wrong to try and influence either society into changing, and being like the other.
This is where most people, myself included get rubbed the wrong way. There seems to be little acceptance for those of us who look at things just a little different. So much time and energy is wasted on changing our minds on what is normal without any thoughts about what is normal for our society, and our written laws. We are made to feel like outcasts in our own country, even though this country’s founding fathers were members of our society.
Our laws and values, we are told no longer fit in modern times, and have no place in government. They are old fashion, and out of date. The confusing part is I have yet to find one person who doesn’t agree with the principles set forth by our laws. I do admit our laws are very old, but no one has told me which one is out of date, or no longer applies in our modern times.
Our society has endured every form of prosecution with martyrs too numerous to list, and growing daily. Do we die because we are a violent society? No. We are persecuted at every turn because we invite others to learn about our laws, and the One who gave them to us, and who loved us so much, he gave his life for us.
We are told we are spreading lies and discontent. Even in our own country, where even if there is a shadow of a doubt, you must find the person innocent, we are found guilty without one shred of evidence against us. We are condemned without doubt, yet when disaster hits, everyone turns to us for answers, for the truth, even though we are considered to be liars.
In a world where things written in black and white are considered to be factual, our law book is considered to be fiction because it has some red letters in it, even though its contents haven’t changed in thousands of years, and can prove it. Pretty amazing considering when a message is handed down from person to person, can go from the first person saying, “I would like a cup of coffee.” To “I hate Coke.” Within 30 people and 30 minutes.
As much as we would like to change things, and will continue to try, we have accepted this as normal. We go about our lives as quietly as we can, doing our best not to bring any undue hardships onto others. What I don’t understand is why can’t other societies do the same?
Why do others want to have our marriage ceremony, even though it’s considered to be old fashion, and who are clearly breaking our laws? The government has allowed for a very long time partnerships, and the changing of names. They desecrate our marriage ceremony, even though it is clearly unnecessary. And why are others who are considered to be radicals from other societies allowed to be heard from, but the radicals, which are martyrs from our society, are never mentioned?
We are Christians, whose laws were written down for us in the Holy Bible. We are persecuted because we share the message of love and salvation of Jesus Christ. We are told our Ten Commandments, which are 10,000 years old, don’t belong on any government property, even though they perfectly summarize the government’s laws.
The question is, how did the persecution of Christians in the United States become normal, and should it be?
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Don't Ask, Don't Tell
This was in the news again, and I still don’t understand why. I hear the excuses for which I can sympathize with. The problem I see is the excuses are getting all of the attention, but the underlining problem is being thoroughly ignored, at least by the media.
First the excuses. People are feeling discriminated against. The definition of discriminate is, to make a distinction in favor of or against one person or thing as compared with others. When you look at the whole definition, you see we are all guilty of it every day. When you choose to prefer Italian food over Greek food, you are discriminating.
Yes, I know full well the agreement about being treated the same as everyone else, and to that I would answer, you are, for everyone is treated just a little different. More to the point do we really want to be treated the same. I certainly don’t. If I am doing something different, I want to be treated different. If I kill every Black Widow I can find, by definition I would be a serial killer, think about it.
I can hear it now, but you don’t understand, but I do. Fourteen years ago I tried to get a Small Business loan, and was turned down. I wasn’t turned down because I didn’t have a great dream, or a solid business plan, or even because the numbers didn’t work. I was turned down because I was a white male. The loan officer flat told my wife and I, if we put the business solely in her name, she would have the money in three days. No I am not making this up. I have several stories of white men being discriminated against, but this is not the point.
You see the big difference here is what I did afterwards. I didn’t go whining to a lawyer and demand restitution, for this wouldn’t have helped my dream. The American Dream, which isn’t about making everyone try and play nice with each other. The American Dream is going after what you want despite the challenges or odds.
I went after my dream in spite of the idiots I had to deal with. It wasn’t easy by no means, but it was obviously still possible, for I’m still in business, and now looking back, I am grateful for being discriminated against. For if it wasn’t for my hardships, I wouldn’t have grown to be as strong, and knowledgeable as I am now.
Back to the main point, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” of people being kicked out of the military. They are not out of the military for a different lifestyle, they are out for failing to follow orders. Basically with the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, and just to clarify, in the military, policy is just a fancy word for order. If people aren’t allowed to ask about your lifestyle, and you’re not suppose to talk about it, how can you get kicked out for it.
Personally, I wish the media had the same policy, for I don’t ask to see or hear many things, so please don’t tell or show it, especially about what goes on it people’s bedrooms. I especially don’t want my kids to have to deal with this regardless of any lifestyle chosen. It’s unfortunate, people seem to be so desperate to eliminate ignorance, and to educate, they don’t realize it is at the expense of innocence and wonder.
First the excuses. People are feeling discriminated against. The definition of discriminate is, to make a distinction in favor of or against one person or thing as compared with others. When you look at the whole definition, you see we are all guilty of it every day. When you choose to prefer Italian food over Greek food, you are discriminating.
Yes, I know full well the agreement about being treated the same as everyone else, and to that I would answer, you are, for everyone is treated just a little different. More to the point do we really want to be treated the same. I certainly don’t. If I am doing something different, I want to be treated different. If I kill every Black Widow I can find, by definition I would be a serial killer, think about it.
I can hear it now, but you don’t understand, but I do. Fourteen years ago I tried to get a Small Business loan, and was turned down. I wasn’t turned down because I didn’t have a great dream, or a solid business plan, or even because the numbers didn’t work. I was turned down because I was a white male. The loan officer flat told my wife and I, if we put the business solely in her name, she would have the money in three days. No I am not making this up. I have several stories of white men being discriminated against, but this is not the point.
You see the big difference here is what I did afterwards. I didn’t go whining to a lawyer and demand restitution, for this wouldn’t have helped my dream. The American Dream, which isn’t about making everyone try and play nice with each other. The American Dream is going after what you want despite the challenges or odds.
I went after my dream in spite of the idiots I had to deal with. It wasn’t easy by no means, but it was obviously still possible, for I’m still in business, and now looking back, I am grateful for being discriminated against. For if it wasn’t for my hardships, I wouldn’t have grown to be as strong, and knowledgeable as I am now.
Back to the main point, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” of people being kicked out of the military. They are not out of the military for a different lifestyle, they are out for failing to follow orders. Basically with the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, and just to clarify, in the military, policy is just a fancy word for order. If people aren’t allowed to ask about your lifestyle, and you’re not suppose to talk about it, how can you get kicked out for it.
Personally, I wish the media had the same policy, for I don’t ask to see or hear many things, so please don’t tell or show it, especially about what goes on it people’s bedrooms. I especially don’t want my kids to have to deal with this regardless of any lifestyle chosen. It’s unfortunate, people seem to be so desperate to eliminate ignorance, and to educate, they don’t realize it is at the expense of innocence and wonder.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
My First Dog
Growing up I always wanted a dog. The desire was so strong I would drag every stray dog I could find home, to beg my parents to let me keep him, but it never worked out. My parents were good at finding the dog’s owner.
While I was still in the 8th grade we moved from a suburb in a large city to a small town. It was not something I enjoyed and only got worse when we moved out to the country. My parents thought it was heaven. I had another word for it, for there wasn't another kid around for miles.
Shortly afterwards my Dad showed up with a black ball of fur that was all paws. A puppy just for me, but not just any mutt like I had been bringing home, a real hunting dog. A Labrador. Suddenly my hell had turned to heaven in an instant, for not only did I have a hunting dog of my own, but I could go hunting right out our back door.
Then my Dad let the other boot drop as they say. Not only had he brought home a Lab puppy, but he also brought home a German Shepherd puppy. I went from a life of broken emptiness, to complete fullness. I had the best of both worlds, a hunting dog, and a guard dog.
Dad named the German Shepherd “Jack” for some unknown reason, and I named the Lab “Hoss” after my favorite character on Bonanza, for if his paws were any indication, he was going to be a big boy.
The summer flew by with the pups growing by leaps and bounds. When Fall finally arrived it was time to go hunting. Realistically it was too early to expect anything from the pups, but Dad was just as anxious to go with the dogs as I was. Then the disappointment and the surprise.
Hoss had no desire to hunt. He was just content to walk behind us and follow happily along. Jack on the other hand was a natural hunter. He worked the fields at just the right distance in front of us, and scared up many pheasants. I can’t say how well he retrieved because we actually never knocked a bird down, but that’s another story.
My day dreams of hunting with Hoss after school were shattered, but I consulted myself with Jack and how cool it was to have a guard dog and a hunting dog all in one.
That dream was also shattered a week later when we went to town with the dogs, and Jack was stolen out of the back of the pickup. The irony of a guard dog being stolen wasn't lost on me.
Christmas brought a boy without a driver’s license the best gift he could ask for, an old dirt bike. A dog just didn’t seem that great any more, especially since all he had shown he was good at was eating, and putting his face in your lap, wanting to be petted just after he got a drink of water. Don't get me wrong, he was still my best friend, but I had been given keys to the world. Hoss was just going to have to wait at home.
Hoss taught me otherwise when the weather cleared. I tried for a half hour to get Hoss to mind and stay home. For some reason my normally well behaved dog wouldn’t mind. I finally had to tie him to a tree, which lasted until I got to the end of the driveway. He had grown into his name, and broke his collar.
I gunned the bike to show him he couldn’t keep up, but he just kept coming. My timid, lazy dog was running faster than I thought possible, and with a heart unwilling to quit. Hoss followed me all summer long, and by fall was looking like Schwarzenegger in his prime.
One day as we were riding/running across a freshly disc field, Hoss just stopped, making a perfect statue. I watched him as I turned the bike around. Suddenly he jumped, and started to dig. By the time I reached him, he was done and playing with his prize, a burrowing rat, a gopher. I watched him for a couple of minutes while he played with it, then he gave it a good shake, killing it, and laid it at my feet with great pride in his eyes. This became almost a daily routine until he got the gopher population thinned down. What amazed me was there was never any evidence of a gopher digging in the area.
By Pheasant season he was a changed dog. I had a great hunting dog, whom had never been trained. One time we were out hunting, but all he would scare up were hens, which we're not allowed to shoot. He would get so excited waiting for me to shoot it, and each time I didn’t he would give me a disgusted look, saying he had done his job, why wasn’t I doing mine?
He sulked all the way home, and he still had a disgusted look on his face as I went into the house to make a sandwich. When I came out of the house with sandwich in hand, I found him sitting and waiting for me with a hen laying in front of him, as if to show me what I was suppose to shoot.
We got another surprise we found hard to believe at first, but there were just too many comments for different people to deny it. Hoss was a great guard dog. Even though he hardly ever got up from his corner when someone came over, and I don’t think I ever heard him bark, ever, he was quite different when we were gone. I guess he put on such a show with growling and barking, even long time friends he knew wouldn’t get out of their cars.
Hoss even melted Mom’s heart. For her pets were O.K., but there place was outside, not in her neat as a pin home. I’m not sure how it happened, but Hoss went from sleeping in the heated shop, to being in the house all of the time. She also made sure he had a full bowl of food, and plenty of table scraps. Surprisingly he never got fat.
I cried when I thought I had lost him when he ran out across the road in front of a small car doing 45 mph. I watched all four tires of the car come off the ground as it went over him. In a blink of an eye he was running to me with only a small patch of fur missing and both of us scared to death. He never ran out into the road again.
By the time I graduated and was going off to college, it was clear he wouldn’t be coming with me, for he was no longer my dog, but the family dog, and his place was at home.
Unfortunately time catches up with us all, even a dog able to take on a Volkswagen. He had slowed down considerably when he hit ten years old, but his eyes were as bright as ever, and we helped him out with different herbs and supplements to combat his arthritis. His hunting days were done, but his value wasn’t diminished to anyone. He had long earned a rest, and a comfortable retirement.
The joy and brightness in his eyes slowly left as the cancer got worse each week and when he couldn’t get up any more, Dad took him to be put to sleep. He was thirteen years old, and everyone cried for the loss of Hoss. I’ve had a couple of great dogs since then, but my first Best Friend has a place in my heart, and is still missed.
While I was still in the 8th grade we moved from a suburb in a large city to a small town. It was not something I enjoyed and only got worse when we moved out to the country. My parents thought it was heaven. I had another word for it, for there wasn't another kid around for miles.
Shortly afterwards my Dad showed up with a black ball of fur that was all paws. A puppy just for me, but not just any mutt like I had been bringing home, a real hunting dog. A Labrador. Suddenly my hell had turned to heaven in an instant, for not only did I have a hunting dog of my own, but I could go hunting right out our back door.
Then my Dad let the other boot drop as they say. Not only had he brought home a Lab puppy, but he also brought home a German Shepherd puppy. I went from a life of broken emptiness, to complete fullness. I had the best of both worlds, a hunting dog, and a guard dog.
Dad named the German Shepherd “Jack” for some unknown reason, and I named the Lab “Hoss” after my favorite character on Bonanza, for if his paws were any indication, he was going to be a big boy.
The summer flew by with the pups growing by leaps and bounds. When Fall finally arrived it was time to go hunting. Realistically it was too early to expect anything from the pups, but Dad was just as anxious to go with the dogs as I was. Then the disappointment and the surprise.
Hoss had no desire to hunt. He was just content to walk behind us and follow happily along. Jack on the other hand was a natural hunter. He worked the fields at just the right distance in front of us, and scared up many pheasants. I can’t say how well he retrieved because we actually never knocked a bird down, but that’s another story.
My day dreams of hunting with Hoss after school were shattered, but I consulted myself with Jack and how cool it was to have a guard dog and a hunting dog all in one.
That dream was also shattered a week later when we went to town with the dogs, and Jack was stolen out of the back of the pickup. The irony of a guard dog being stolen wasn't lost on me.
Christmas brought a boy without a driver’s license the best gift he could ask for, an old dirt bike. A dog just didn’t seem that great any more, especially since all he had shown he was good at was eating, and putting his face in your lap, wanting to be petted just after he got a drink of water. Don't get me wrong, he was still my best friend, but I had been given keys to the world. Hoss was just going to have to wait at home.
Hoss taught me otherwise when the weather cleared. I tried for a half hour to get Hoss to mind and stay home. For some reason my normally well behaved dog wouldn’t mind. I finally had to tie him to a tree, which lasted until I got to the end of the driveway. He had grown into his name, and broke his collar.
I gunned the bike to show him he couldn’t keep up, but he just kept coming. My timid, lazy dog was running faster than I thought possible, and with a heart unwilling to quit. Hoss followed me all summer long, and by fall was looking like Schwarzenegger in his prime.
One day as we were riding/running across a freshly disc field, Hoss just stopped, making a perfect statue. I watched him as I turned the bike around. Suddenly he jumped, and started to dig. By the time I reached him, he was done and playing with his prize, a burrowing rat, a gopher. I watched him for a couple of minutes while he played with it, then he gave it a good shake, killing it, and laid it at my feet with great pride in his eyes. This became almost a daily routine until he got the gopher population thinned down. What amazed me was there was never any evidence of a gopher digging in the area.
By Pheasant season he was a changed dog. I had a great hunting dog, whom had never been trained. One time we were out hunting, but all he would scare up were hens, which we're not allowed to shoot. He would get so excited waiting for me to shoot it, and each time I didn’t he would give me a disgusted look, saying he had done his job, why wasn’t I doing mine?
He sulked all the way home, and he still had a disgusted look on his face as I went into the house to make a sandwich. When I came out of the house with sandwich in hand, I found him sitting and waiting for me with a hen laying in front of him, as if to show me what I was suppose to shoot.
We got another surprise we found hard to believe at first, but there were just too many comments for different people to deny it. Hoss was a great guard dog. Even though he hardly ever got up from his corner when someone came over, and I don’t think I ever heard him bark, ever, he was quite different when we were gone. I guess he put on such a show with growling and barking, even long time friends he knew wouldn’t get out of their cars.
Hoss even melted Mom’s heart. For her pets were O.K., but there place was outside, not in her neat as a pin home. I’m not sure how it happened, but Hoss went from sleeping in the heated shop, to being in the house all of the time. She also made sure he had a full bowl of food, and plenty of table scraps. Surprisingly he never got fat.
I cried when I thought I had lost him when he ran out across the road in front of a small car doing 45 mph. I watched all four tires of the car come off the ground as it went over him. In a blink of an eye he was running to me with only a small patch of fur missing and both of us scared to death. He never ran out into the road again.
By the time I graduated and was going off to college, it was clear he wouldn’t be coming with me, for he was no longer my dog, but the family dog, and his place was at home.
Unfortunately time catches up with us all, even a dog able to take on a Volkswagen. He had slowed down considerably when he hit ten years old, but his eyes were as bright as ever, and we helped him out with different herbs and supplements to combat his arthritis. His hunting days were done, but his value wasn’t diminished to anyone. He had long earned a rest, and a comfortable retirement.
The joy and brightness in his eyes slowly left as the cancer got worse each week and when he couldn’t get up any more, Dad took him to be put to sleep. He was thirteen years old, and everyone cried for the loss of Hoss. I’ve had a couple of great dogs since then, but my first Best Friend has a place in my heart, and is still missed.
Friday, April 2, 2010
The Dislikable Health Bill
I often wonder what people are thinking when they do something. Yesterday I witnessed a person pull out onto the road, skipping the right lane completely to get into the left lane, effectively blocking another person who was trying to merge from the center media. Then after only a 100 yards, pulled back into the right lane to make a turn. Why did this person do this? Was it a tired truck driver who forgot for a moment they were driving a Honda?
I wonder about the people we elected to represent us. Last week a historic Bill was passed by a very narrow margin effectively splitting our country in two. In theory it is suppose to provide health care to everyone. In theory. A theory I don't think anyone is against.
We could debate until hell freezes over on the individual things in the Bill we like or don't like, but I think it missed the main point of why so many people, myself included, don't like this Bill. For something so historically important as this Bill, why was it rushed through? Why the late night session, and sessions on Sunday? It was like everyone had "CAR FEVER". Got to buy it now, for they only have one red car left, and they won't make any more. Yeah, right.
Our Media wasn't much different than a bunch of High School teens, going "He said, She said". You would have thought with around 500 pages in the Bill, you could find something else to report besides the Left and Right fighting like toddlers. I remember a time when Journalist were thought of in high regards, even noble. Reporting only the facts, leaving the theory and gossip to the tabloids. Now we have 90% opinions/egos and only 10% facts at best. It's like they don't think we can come up with an opinion of our own, and if we do, it won't be the right one.
Unfortunately as much as I would like to blame others, I am just as guilty of dropping the ball as they are. In this day of information, I could have looked up the Bill myself and gotten my own answers, but I didn't. I could argue I didn't have enough time, but only if I had been trying to find things out. Instead I buried my head in the sand, and relied on others (News Media and Politicians) to get me the information.
So now what do we do? Move to the Outback of Australia, bury our heads and hope people will leave us alone? As much as I would like to see Australia, I refuse to bury my head anymore. I will get myself informed, and do my best to get myself politely heard in a civilized fashion. I will NOT let others steal my joy by sucking me into their dramas, for I am truly a wealthy man. I have a wonderful family who I can fully depend on for anything, and God who loves me!
The question is, are you wealthy? Do you have someone whom you completely trust? God? If not, I suggest you forget about this Health Bill, for if you have no one, you will never have health/wealth. Remember none of us are perfect. The key is to except others completely for who they are, and to be honest, truly showing yourself, so they can completely except you.
I wonder about the people we elected to represent us. Last week a historic Bill was passed by a very narrow margin effectively splitting our country in two. In theory it is suppose to provide health care to everyone. In theory. A theory I don't think anyone is against.
We could debate until hell freezes over on the individual things in the Bill we like or don't like, but I think it missed the main point of why so many people, myself included, don't like this Bill. For something so historically important as this Bill, why was it rushed through? Why the late night session, and sessions on Sunday? It was like everyone had "CAR FEVER". Got to buy it now, for they only have one red car left, and they won't make any more. Yeah, right.
Our Media wasn't much different than a bunch of High School teens, going "He said, She said". You would have thought with around 500 pages in the Bill, you could find something else to report besides the Left and Right fighting like toddlers. I remember a time when Journalist were thought of in high regards, even noble. Reporting only the facts, leaving the theory and gossip to the tabloids. Now we have 90% opinions/egos and only 10% facts at best. It's like they don't think we can come up with an opinion of our own, and if we do, it won't be the right one.
Unfortunately as much as I would like to blame others, I am just as guilty of dropping the ball as they are. In this day of information, I could have looked up the Bill myself and gotten my own answers, but I didn't. I could argue I didn't have enough time, but only if I had been trying to find things out. Instead I buried my head in the sand, and relied on others (News Media and Politicians) to get me the information.
So now what do we do? Move to the Outback of Australia, bury our heads and hope people will leave us alone? As much as I would like to see Australia, I refuse to bury my head anymore. I will get myself informed, and do my best to get myself politely heard in a civilized fashion. I will NOT let others steal my joy by sucking me into their dramas, for I am truly a wealthy man. I have a wonderful family who I can fully depend on for anything, and God who loves me!
The question is, are you wealthy? Do you have someone whom you completely trust? God? If not, I suggest you forget about this Health Bill, for if you have no one, you will never have health/wealth. Remember none of us are perfect. The key is to except others completely for who they are, and to be honest, truly showing yourself, so they can completely except you.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Common Courtesy
I think it is safe to say common courtesy is no longer common. I have a neighbor next to my business who keeps on proving he doesn't know about being courteous to others. There is very limited parking for our businesses, 7 spaces for 6 businesses. They will take up just as many parking places as then can, even two at a time with one rig. When I bring it up, they usually move, and make room for others, but to be honest I just can't seem to understand why I should have to ask in the first place.
I guess I just had a strange up-bringing. My parents taught me to think of others before I think of myself. It's not that I don't want things for myself; I just don't want them at the expense of others. Today it seems everyone is all about the ME, and the hell with others. If you ever want an example of this just watch the way people drive.
I've got a negative attitude right now, and I don't like it. I have gotten to the point I don't like to be around people much anymore, just because there seem to be so many ME orientated people out there. I know in my heart and in my head, they are not the majority, just a very annoying minority. Most people are good kind people who are just doing the best they can, but those others I just want to walk up to them and smack them on the forehead, and tell them to wake up and smell the coffee. Get a clue in life, and show some respect towards others. Don't you remember the golden rule, "Treat others as you would want to be treated."
Sadly, at the very least it would show how rude I am to others, and at the worst I would end up in jail wondering if anyone got the license of the truck that just ran over me. Most people like my neighbor aren't trying to be rude to others, they just were never taught how to apply the golden rule to their lives.
So where does that leave people like me who get so upset, we want to do stupid things? It leaves us with the perfect example of the golden rule from the Bible, "Turn the other cheek."
First we have to decide whether we want to be part of the solution, or part of the problem? If we get upset, scream and yell, then we are part of the problem. Second, you have to decide if you're willing to be part of the solution. If you don't like something, then the obvious answer is to change it.
The best way to change something is to teach with love. You can't be mad at someone and love them at the same time, at least I don't know how to do it. I have to first let go of my anger, and turn the other cheek, showing them love. Only in this spirit can I then begin to learn what the other person values, and teach them what I think they did wrong. Beware though for what you think is rude, might be considered just the opposite to someone else from a different culture. The perfect situation is when both of you can learn to respect each other.
I guess what I am trying to remind myself is before I get upset, I should try and see if things can just be simply made into a win, win situation for both of us, without anyone feeling they have been treated rudely, or unfair. If you do decide to thump the person on the forehead, be sure to let me know how that goes. I am sure there is another great article there, but I am too chicken to see for myself. I'm afraid I might not like the lesson involved.
I guess I just had a strange up-bringing. My parents taught me to think of others before I think of myself. It's not that I don't want things for myself; I just don't want them at the expense of others. Today it seems everyone is all about the ME, and the hell with others. If you ever want an example of this just watch the way people drive.
I've got a negative attitude right now, and I don't like it. I have gotten to the point I don't like to be around people much anymore, just because there seem to be so many ME orientated people out there. I know in my heart and in my head, they are not the majority, just a very annoying minority. Most people are good kind people who are just doing the best they can, but those others I just want to walk up to them and smack them on the forehead, and tell them to wake up and smell the coffee. Get a clue in life, and show some respect towards others. Don't you remember the golden rule, "Treat others as you would want to be treated."
Sadly, at the very least it would show how rude I am to others, and at the worst I would end up in jail wondering if anyone got the license of the truck that just ran over me. Most people like my neighbor aren't trying to be rude to others, they just were never taught how to apply the golden rule to their lives.
So where does that leave people like me who get so upset, we want to do stupid things? It leaves us with the perfect example of the golden rule from the Bible, "Turn the other cheek."
First we have to decide whether we want to be part of the solution, or part of the problem? If we get upset, scream and yell, then we are part of the problem. Second, you have to decide if you're willing to be part of the solution. If you don't like something, then the obvious answer is to change it.
The best way to change something is to teach with love. You can't be mad at someone and love them at the same time, at least I don't know how to do it. I have to first let go of my anger, and turn the other cheek, showing them love. Only in this spirit can I then begin to learn what the other person values, and teach them what I think they did wrong. Beware though for what you think is rude, might be considered just the opposite to someone else from a different culture. The perfect situation is when both of you can learn to respect each other.
I guess what I am trying to remind myself is before I get upset, I should try and see if things can just be simply made into a win, win situation for both of us, without anyone feeling they have been treated rudely, or unfair. If you do decide to thump the person on the forehead, be sure to let me know how that goes. I am sure there is another great article there, but I am too chicken to see for myself. I'm afraid I might not like the lesson involved.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Bull Pucky
There seems to be a perceived misperception about Christians. It's nothing new really. What surprises me is how it is still around, and that even Christians feel their suppose to be this way. Once you become a Christian, your gift of simple language is to be done away with, and replaced with the ever disrespectful Mr. Nice Guy. Bull Pucky.
Above all things, I am a man first, period. It is even more so now I have given my heart to Jesus. God is a God of love, who cares for all, but there is this twisted belief, just because he cares for all, he is striving for political correctness. Bull, I don't think the Pharisees would agree with the thought of him trying to be politically correct. Being politically correct is not the same as being caring enough to be honest.
The world of ours is full of atrocities. Nothing new when you look at history. The biggest atrocity is thinking and giving these evil people and their deeds permission to keep doing their evil. This is exactly what our society is doing every time we try to negotiate with someone who has done evil. Did Jesus negotiate with the merchants in the temple? NO! He physically threw them out. What the merchants had done was wrong, end of debate.
The bull pucky in today's ideology is so thick you could spread it around with a bull dozer. The saddest part is it comes from a small minority group of people who have gotten very noisy these days only because we let them. They have used their best weapon against us, guilt. They have made us feel guilty for not acting like their version of a loving God, when we disagree with their actions, and try and stop them. This is complete Bull, for the Bible clearly tells what is right and what is wrong.
Guilt has no power over us, except the power we give it. Guilt especially doesn't come from God. God uses conviction. When we sin, and we all do, God convicts us without any doubt. Guilt comes from others, or ourselves, and there is always a sense of doubt, or question. God only needs to tell us once, and forgives us when we ask. Others will keep telling us of our guilt even after they say they have forgiven us. God's punishment is just and set. By others, guilt is the punishment and unending.
Now is the time to do our part to eliminate the B.S. in our life, and world. You cannot do this by eliminating a word or two, but by using them as they were intended, to reveal a truth with honesty. Being politically correct is a fad destined to die like all fads. Honesty has stood the test of time, and without it, everything is just Bull Pucky.
Above all things, I am a man first, period. It is even more so now I have given my heart to Jesus. God is a God of love, who cares for all, but there is this twisted belief, just because he cares for all, he is striving for political correctness. Bull, I don't think the Pharisees would agree with the thought of him trying to be politically correct. Being politically correct is not the same as being caring enough to be honest.
The world of ours is full of atrocities. Nothing new when you look at history. The biggest atrocity is thinking and giving these evil people and their deeds permission to keep doing their evil. This is exactly what our society is doing every time we try to negotiate with someone who has done evil. Did Jesus negotiate with the merchants in the temple? NO! He physically threw them out. What the merchants had done was wrong, end of debate.
The bull pucky in today's ideology is so thick you could spread it around with a bull dozer. The saddest part is it comes from a small minority group of people who have gotten very noisy these days only because we let them. They have used their best weapon against us, guilt. They have made us feel guilty for not acting like their version of a loving God, when we disagree with their actions, and try and stop them. This is complete Bull, for the Bible clearly tells what is right and what is wrong.
Guilt has no power over us, except the power we give it. Guilt especially doesn't come from God. God uses conviction. When we sin, and we all do, God convicts us without any doubt. Guilt comes from others, or ourselves, and there is always a sense of doubt, or question. God only needs to tell us once, and forgives us when we ask. Others will keep telling us of our guilt even after they say they have forgiven us. God's punishment is just and set. By others, guilt is the punishment and unending.
Now is the time to do our part to eliminate the B.S. in our life, and world. You cannot do this by eliminating a word or two, but by using them as they were intended, to reveal a truth with honesty. Being politically correct is a fad destined to die like all fads. Honesty has stood the test of time, and without it, everything is just Bull Pucky.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Valentine's Day
Once a year we celebrate a special day to remember the ones we love, Valentine's Day. A day I find to be very sad and the reason so many couples are having problems. Such emphasis is put on one day, but if you truly love someone, I don't understand how you can't express that love every day.
The day doesn't even seem to be a day of real love. It's all about the buying of gifts. Plastic things that are quickly forgotten, and left to collect dust. Chocolates, which are gone over night, and flowers that wilt within a few days. I don't see how any of these things are truly a symbol of true everlasting love.
I have been blessed the last couple of decades to have a true love. A love that has grown to completeness. I use to say my love grows more and more each and every day, but that is no longer true. Like a fully grown fruit tree, producing nothing but delicious, my love is now full grown and complete. Our love is fully rooted, and strong enough to handle any storm. Producing fruit without fail.
Like a fully grown fruit tree, I will keep loving my wife until the farmer in charge of me, (God) says I am done. When I was young, love was exciting, but insecure. I don't miss those days for I have found peace, security, and comfort in my maturity. None of this is possible without compete love.
Thank you to my Love and everyday Valentine.
In Complete Love,
E.J. Bear
The day doesn't even seem to be a day of real love. It's all about the buying of gifts. Plastic things that are quickly forgotten, and left to collect dust. Chocolates, which are gone over night, and flowers that wilt within a few days. I don't see how any of these things are truly a symbol of true everlasting love.
I have been blessed the last couple of decades to have a true love. A love that has grown to completeness. I use to say my love grows more and more each and every day, but that is no longer true. Like a fully grown fruit tree, producing nothing but delicious, my love is now full grown and complete. Our love is fully rooted, and strong enough to handle any storm. Producing fruit without fail.
Like a fully grown fruit tree, I will keep loving my wife until the farmer in charge of me, (God) says I am done. When I was young, love was exciting, but insecure. I don't miss those days for I have found peace, security, and comfort in my maturity. None of this is possible without compete love.
Thank you to my Love and everyday Valentine.
In Complete Love,
E.J. Bear
Monday, February 8, 2010
Been A While
It has been a while since I have posted anything up here, and I plan to get back in the habit once a week of posting an article or a short story. I don't know if there is anyone who is happening on to this blog by chance, but if there is I would sure like to know. First, to know someone is seeing this, and two, what you think. Thanks.
Sincerely,
E.J. Bear
Sincerely,
E.J. Bear
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