What I don't say...

 It was the 1980's, and we had recently discovered (and quickly devoured) the fantastic book series Anne of Green Gables written in 1908 by Lucy Maud Montgomery. As "luck" would have it, in 1985 a 4-hour Canadian mini-series based on the novels was produced by CBC. In this instance, I have to agree with Wikipedia: "widely considered the definitive version to date."

What brings this character and series to mind is a recurring complaint that I have in common with the titular character: "I know I chatter on far too much... but if you only knew how many things I want to say and don't. Give me SOME credit.”

In my case, I probably don't have to worry about chattering on far too much (unless you launch me into a tangent about which I have strong opinions,) but rather I often feel "if only people knew how much I want to say - and don't..." I feel your pain, Anne.

I learned many years ago that people don't always share my opinions on any number of topics, and I could be as correct as the Oxford dictionary or Encyclopedia Britannica and it wouldn't change anyone's mind who wants to hold on to their own beliefs. Of course, I can also be wrong about something - and obviously, no one likes the thought of having to reexamine their beliefs. Even less appealing is contemplating that one could be wrong or have been misled in some of their views or beliefs. In my case, a challenging 10-year examination of my personal faith upbringing and the resultant shift in how I view God and the Bible specifically, and religion in general. These days, it's become a popular trend to "deconstruct" ones spiritual beliefs, a thin disguise for abandoning them altogether. I prefer to "reexamine" or "realign" - because from the very beginning as I read and researched the belief system I held dear, my prayer was "Lord, take away everything that is not your Truth... but please don't take Jesus."

Having said that, I feel the need to address another popular trend, and that is the tendency to "cancel" anyone whose opinion differs from ones own. I find it ironic that one person can feel justified in believing that they have every right to hold a point of view that flies in the face of basic biology or physics, while holding to the idea that someone who does not share their POV does not deserve to have that same "right."

Lately, I've been wrestling with the question of how to proceed when confronted with the accusation that my beliefs are toxic or somehow abusive. I could understand that assertion if I was trying to force my opinion down that person's throat, but that is not the case (as far as I can tell.) Does the mere fact that I don't agree with someone make that a hateful act? I don't think so... and if it were so, then the same logic would necessarily apply to the person who is disagreeing with me. 

However, as I continue to read my Bible and keep my mouth shut, I am realizing that while I don't have to agree with someone, and I can (and should) give them the respect of having the right to their opinion - but I do not, and should not, have to change my opinion to suit them. (Reexamine, yes. We should all be willing to do that.)

I liken it to two people playing a game together, but they are not playing the same game. One is playing checkers while the other is playing Candyland. If two people don't have the same "rules" or beliefs from the outset, the game will go nowhere. Of course, that analogy falls apart because one person could easily abandon their game board in favor of playing the same game, whereas ones core belief system of how they maneuver life's decisions is not so easily discarded.

I am not sure that I have an answer to this dilemma. But I know that I cannot simply chuck my belief in a loving God who created me and wants to be in relationship with me - with very clear criteria of what that looks like. The choices I make each day are based on how I understand that simple reality. Those are far bigger things to consider than if someone has decided to "unfriend" me for the simple reason that I am not going to jump on the current bandwagon of whatever social experiment is in vogue this year. 

Sad, but true. Some may have the conviction that you should do ANYthing and EVERYthing you can to maintain a relationship, especially when it is a family member. I am not convinced.

Yes, I know that the Bible says: (1 Jn. 3.11) ..."you have heard from the beginning that we should love one another." Guess what? Right after that, it says (v.13) "And do not be surprised, if the world hates you." 

So, this is me, not being surprised. Sad, but not surprised. But I am going to continue to do my best to align my actions with another Biblical instruction: "speaking the truth in love..."

15 Minute Ramble

Yesterday my friend challenged herself to writing daily for just 15 minutes, attempting to break a habit we all have: wasting time on such frivolities as watching TV or playing a video game. I can pat myself on the back for not falling prey to the first vice, but the second one surely has me hooked. I convince myself that I am "exercising my brain" - important to us who have the dubious privilege of having Alzheimer's in our family and finding ourselves to be of an age that worries about that kind of thing every time we find ourselves repeating a story, misplacing our keys (or glasses, or phone...)

It would be easy enough for me to look back on my day and lament the things that I did not get done - but I'm rarely willing to admit that the amount of time spent on sudoku or mahjong contributed to that. 

It's all well and good to acknowledge our shortcomings, but that is the easy part of the battle. I like to claim that my sister inherited all of our mother's "self-discipline gene" - just reading her daily rundown of things accomplished makes me want to take a nap. (Although, to be completely honest, most anything these days makes me want to take a nap... so, there is that.)

Just knowing that we have an area that needs some work and then ignoring it by playing a puzzle is, in my mind, akin to an alcoholic who acknowledges they might have a "problem" as they crack open another can. Or, another analogy that we can all identify with: hearing the alarm clock and knowing it's time to get up, then rolling over in bed for another 15 minutes. (Bazinga!)

I have read countless self-help books and websites designed to inspire and motivate me to focus on the areas that I know should be priorities, but setting the book down or turning off the computer is really the answer. 

Watching TV

Today's post is from my friend ToriLynn...

There are probably one hundred reasons I waste my time watching TV several hours a day. And probably a few reasons of why it is so hard to break the habit.

When I was a kid, the default on Saturday and in the evenings was to be plopped in front of the TV. We watched whatever the parents wanted. We were rather well-versed on current events because they watched the news and all the things going on. I remember the Nixon/Kennedy debate. I remember the hullabaloo after Kennedy was shot. I remember Lyndon B Johnson lifting his beagle up by its ears. I remember the moon landing footage, and the riots in Watts and the tanks going down Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley, California. And I remember the Mr. Ed song, ‘A horse is a horse of course of course, unless of course it's a talking horse...’ and many more, Casper, and Miss Nancy, and Captain Kangaroo. And Sunday at 7 p.m. was an hour of the Wonderful World of Disney programs.

It's not that I (we) didn't play outside or in our rooms. We sure did! But my mom wasn't a "Go outside and play!" type of a mother, most of the time. Sometimes... but not usually. If we got rambunctious that was another story. We rode bikes and climbed on rocks and in trees and shot our little cowboy pistols at bad guys and went over to the friend's house down the street to play hide and seek in the dark and my sister and I even had a Kool-Aid stand for 2¢ a paper cup. But we always came in before supper and watched afternoon cartoons. I don't know why.

As a little girl, I contracted Rheumatic Fever and had to not be active for months at a time. The second time I got it, I was in bed for six weeks. My mom piggy-backed me to the bathroom because she followed the doctor's instructions to the tee. That lasted a day or so before she decided that I was just across the hall from the toilet and I was ten and pretty normal size for my age... not a little kid. But I was in bed with books and the teacher, Mr. Hackett, came by with homework once a week. That was when I read Black Beauty and the one thing I remember most was that Ginger, the horse, got her tail cut down to nothing and couldn't swat flies away from her anymore. That was probably when I learned to be a voracious reader. But still, you could watch TV from the couch made up as a bed... And on my 11th birthday, the girls came over and we had a dinner party. We played pin the tail on the donkey out back, and then we went in to watch the first ever showing of "Flipper, faster than lightning, no one you see is smarter than he... under the sea." So, TV was used as an enforcement for keeping quiet. Which may have led to "self-medicating" on TV as an adult. It's always about being physically quiet.

I still read sometimes, but my sight isn't as good as it used to be and you can make the print on electronics as big as you want it to be. (The Bible is not very generous in the print sizes.) Electronic research is so nice now, but it's not as trustworthy as the old card catalogue and running around the library looking for the reference books, nor as fun as writing information out and having all the papers spread around, cutting the sections apart and putting them in order. The original cut and paste. Yet the default is TV or YouTube or scrolling. 

Why is TV the default when I'm feeling restless? Who knows? But I am currently working on doing other activities. Yes, I still watch things, but I'm trying to do one thing between Andy Griffith and Leave It To Beaver; between "Matlock" and Elsbeth. Eventually, when Father Brown episodes run out, I will not replace it with another show, but with a project or walking the dog a second time. One new practice, that I pray I can stick to daily, is writing 15 minutes a day. Perhaps praying a little more would be a very good thing. My health is good enough to be active, pickleball? More time cleaning house and doing yard work? Only the LORD knows. But with prayer and encouragement, it can change and my life can be more productive.