Bees in My Bonnet

 Ever since I was 11 and saw the movie, 'The Boy Who Could Fly' I had my ears perked for any article or mention of Autism. In Hong Kong, there weren't many movies that came out in English, so if there was one that wasn't off-limits for kids, we would see it, even if we weren't interested in it. The novelty of seeing a movie in English superseded our pickiness about content. I had barely heard the word 'autistic' before, and naturally imagined it must be a mispronunciation of 'artistic'. But the movie gave me another perspective. Because I had so many struggles with learning, attention, and getting along with my peers, I was fascinated by the insights I would find in an article or book on autism. I was fascinated that recognition was being given to the various kinds of people in world.  People God made.  People whose outlook was different.  People similar to me.  I could relate to some of what I read, and what I didn't relate to, I began to unders...

 Sometimes you can see the Grumbling People Not by their words so much as what they hide: Ever an eye to what others do that doesn't please, An ongoing wish, unfulfilled: 'If only...' Ideas spill out in demeanor and pursed lips.  "If everyone did things my way..."  And so hidden grumblings  Tense shoulders, harden countenance. The laugh lines in old faces Of those whose grumblings petered out long ago Speak of serene calm  Acceptance, mirth, a welcoming of all that is. Imperfections abound,  The banality of grumbling Becomes so commonplace I can taste it like boiled potatoes on a hot summer day. The erosion of discontent does not smooth jagged lines As shards soften by waves of the sea. Whining souls only further fragment  Providing prickles for tender hearts to sustain. Grumbling people exist in our world: It is for us - those who see them, those who love them, To cushion with beauty, To soften with grace, To welcome the grumblers and open hospitable ...

In case anyone is in doubt, I'll just put this out there: I need a LOT of help. I am not type A or even type B. By the time you get to X, Y or Z...I'm in there somewhere. I've always been scatter-brained - I still have some of my report cards which repeatedly pointed out my daydreaming habits. So, I'm sure you will be surprised to find out that I struggle with a thing called Chronic Disorganization. Combine that with a thing called A.D.D., (I like to think of that as Alternately Designed Diva), and a few other acronyms and labels that are especially helpful in addressing my various issues, and you get ME. That is my preface to the rest of what I'm about to put here. I'm posting this partly because it is so entertaining...but also because I am exceedingly grateful for the delightful person who wrote the response - who helped me out in my distress some time ago. Not only did she help me address a potentially riddled-with-relational-mines interaction, with hilar...

In my first post I was basically talking to/about the person who withholds forgiveness.  Now I want to talk to the one who is denied being forgiven. If you have apologized and asked forgiveness - once - not many times, not in repeated trials to demonstrate enough penance - ONCE, then you have done your part. You ARE forgiven - by God.  And He, after all, is really the only One Who matters.  It is sad, and a terrible grief to bear - that others refuse to forgive.  This is a matter they have between them and God.  You are free - free from the burden to work to pay for your sins.  You are free to live before God with the knowledge of HIS grace, HIS mercy, HIS forgiveness.  You are free to worship because you embrace the Gospel. You are not beholden to some checklist of works-righteousness that wins you the salvation you have already received! You are not subject to the faulty view others have of you! You are not guilty because another deems you...

Got a bee in my bonnet... Gonna let it fly. Snooty graceless people run around putting others under their particular microscope.  It is not a microscope of virtue or righteousness according to actual moral standards.  Oh no.  It is the microscope of 'my own personal standards'.  Generally this applies to external things like: appearance housekeeping parenting diet and exercise habits (or lack thereof) financial choices (add your own here) They are the most miserable, unhappy people.  They purse their lips and sigh and think to themselves, "If only they would do what I would do, life would be so much better for them."  They pat themselves on the back and think of themselves as more righteous, holy, with-it, together...  They sadly look at others and think, "If only..." they could be as happy as I am... Sour, judgemental as I am. Snooty graceless people burden others with their opinion (value-less might I add) of them.  They think it ac...

I was pondering lateness recently - since someone used the term 'unfashionably late'.  I ended up with a thought conversation with myself, which I am apt to have going on in my head at any given time.  Here is what it looked like: Hmmm... UNfashionably late implies there is fashionable lateness.  Well, I guess I qualify for both categories since I'm usually late to things.  Oh well. What do you mean 'oh well,'?!  Many people consider lateness to be rude, selfish, thoughtless, and disrespectful. Well, they're just on the Western end of the cultural spectrum.  I just happen to be at the other end. Hey, don't excuse yourself so easily!  Cultural or not cultural, do you want people judging you by your lateness? No, I don't.  But it's their problem for being so snooty - and might I add, just a wee bit self-centered too since they imply the late person is so selfish for making them wait?  Because no time is wasted if you have an engaging...

Here I am eating humble pie.  If only it would truly make me humble. So much for not having Mommy-guilt. I spoke too soon. Because at supper tonight Timothy was reluctant to eat his refried beans and cilantro rice.  Never mind the leftover salmon crepes.  All he wanted was applesauce and PB&J, which clearly was not on the menu. So then I urged him to eat just one bite.  He would have none of it.  Then the crisis comes.  Is this a battle I want to wage?  Do I really care if he eats the beans and rice?  Is it worth it?  Am I a bad Mom if I back off? The debate goes on in my head: should I make an issue of this?  My instinct says NO.  I wouldn't want to be forced to eat when I don't want to, nor would I want to be forced to eat something I don't particularly care for.  But I am not a child and have developed a wide range of appetites for varied consumables.  Don't I want my kid to be as versatile in epicurean d...

I have a secret. I'm going to get it out in the open here and now and just be done with it. Here it is: I am FAR worse a person than you think I am. I am not saying this to be self-denigrating. I am not eliciting sympathy, flattery or anything of the sort. I am merely putting this out there so we'll all be on the same page. Even if you are one of my critics, this statement is still true. If you think I'm self-absorbed, you're right, but probably I'm more than that - narcissistic even. If you think I waste time, you're right, but more than you know. What I'm saying is, no matter what light you view me in (and I know, for most of you, it's positive), you are probably far too generous is your estimations. Granted, I'm more than a little nutty - extremely bizarre and unique might qualify. But I'm not referring here to my idiosyncrasies, of which I have more than a few. I am referring to all my own worst qualities, and even the good ones whi...

I have another annoyance to vent about so here goes: It's the story of the Little Red Hen. You know - where she decides to make bread and goes out to get the grain, grind it, mix it, knead it, bake it, slice it and then eat it. She invites help from all her wee chicks to help in the process, as well as the farmyard animals. They all decline citing other activities that they can't spare the time to help her. So when it comes to eating the bread, they all step up to the plate to 'help' with that. At which point she goes, 'Oh no, you didn't bother to help with the making of the bread, so now I will eat it all myself...' - and that is what she does. I think there is a moral to this story - the proverbial 'sowing and reaping', that if you don't volunteer your help don't expect to partake of the fruits of others' labours. This is fair enough. I think it is a good lesson and should be taught to our children. But we should...