I'm one of those people who truly believes that given time, good prevails over evil. What exactly constitutes the difference between good and evil? Is it all perspective or is there really a line to be drawn between the two? And who really tells us?
I'm not having a debate in my mind about obvious things such as stealing or killing. Nothing that serious. Warren is having a little conundrum at work and it really makes you question why things happen. I don't necessarily believe that a good job will always equal good rewards. Warren has always performed well at work and has received the blessings of good rewards most of the time. But now, he's made a simple mistake and he's being dragged through hell and back for it. Every day seems to be worse than the day before. His ship has failed an inspection that is mostly centered around the lack of correct paperwork, and most of it was fixed in a single day. It was an honest mistake for him, and yet they are responding well over the appropriate amount of disciple required. My immediate response is not the question of "why him, why us", but more just the general question of "why".
Is it wrong of me to think of these people as evil because they do not know Warren from Adam, and yet they want to throw him into the lion's den anyway? Or really is there something else behind it? I can't help but to think that in this economy, jobs must be justified because of the lack of funds that all companies are experiencing right now. Of course Warren's job is secure, but the "evil" people that are persecuting him are civilians. Will their job be more secure if they make an example of someone else? Is that the good, the flip side of this story? Making Warren go through this demise just to save another person's job who isn't as secure... someone who probably has a family of their own to support? Is that really a good thing or an evil thing? Good for them, evil for Warren. This situation definitely depends on perspective.
I do have a calmness about the situation in that whatever happens, happens. The world will keep spinning and we'll wake up to see another day. I have no fear, honestly. I can't say the same for Warren, but I'll believe enough for the two of us right now.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Hobbies: God given or personally driven?
Do you ever wonder how much of your life is actually molded by God's voice, or his direction? How much of your personal interests are given to you by God rather than you taking them for your own? How many times do we miss the mark on becoming more knowledgeable on these interests? Have you ever been in a situation where you could have helped someone immensely had you had more knowledge on the given subject? Could you have been more helpful to the elderly widow across the street if you knew the perfect recipe for brownies? I know that sounds silly, but when you know that your neighbor's birthday is right around the corner and she loves brownies, would it not be nicer to make homemade ones rather than store bought ones? And knowing this perfect recipe would be the product of time spent in your kitchen cooking for your own family and honing your skills for service later.
Or perhaps, a more masculine example. Say you've always had a liking for carpentry, but never really knew where to start. You go and buy all the right tools, and inevitably, they sit in your garage collecting dust because you are only halfheartedly taking on this hobby anyway. You watch a few t.v. shows about building things and think to yourself "Wow, that looks easy and we need one of those." (those being whatever it is they are building on t.v.) Now let's say they are building a bench and you want one of those. You buy the lumber, nails, whatever it is you need to build it. Two months later you overhear one of your friends saying that they need a bench to sit on outside since the weather is so nice and his wife is 8 months pregnant and has a hard time sitting on the ground to make beautiful landscapes with chalk with her other children. If you had made that bench of yours two months earlier, you could just give it to your friend or make another one for them.. but you choose to watch more t.v. to get your skills "just right" before starting. So you're sitting there thinking that you had good intentions of course, but that only justifies laziness in most cases.
I often wonder these things because a lot of my personal interests seem to hold more meaning than I had ever intended for them. My most recent example would be that of sign language. All of my life I have thought that I would have a deaf child and that I should learn to sign. I've had countless opportunities to learn basic sign, but I've never really taken advantage of them. When Benjamin was born, I actually thought to myself, "Well, he's not deaf, so it must be our second child and I still have time to learn". Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine that I would need to know sign language for a child that has perfect hearing.
Become masters of your own hobbies. Like to draw? Teach an art class to neighborhood preschoolers. Like to read? Volunteer to teach adults to read. Like to garden? Mow your neighbor's yard when they are on vacation. Like to fix cars? Teach your friend to change his oil. Like to cook? Find a shut in from your church and send them your leftovers. Computers? Teach your Grandmother how to send email.
Service to others does not have to be boring. Life is supposed to be fun!
Or perhaps, a more masculine example. Say you've always had a liking for carpentry, but never really knew where to start. You go and buy all the right tools, and inevitably, they sit in your garage collecting dust because you are only halfheartedly taking on this hobby anyway. You watch a few t.v. shows about building things and think to yourself "Wow, that looks easy and we need one of those." (those being whatever it is they are building on t.v.) Now let's say they are building a bench and you want one of those. You buy the lumber, nails, whatever it is you need to build it. Two months later you overhear one of your friends saying that they need a bench to sit on outside since the weather is so nice and his wife is 8 months pregnant and has a hard time sitting on the ground to make beautiful landscapes with chalk with her other children. If you had made that bench of yours two months earlier, you could just give it to your friend or make another one for them.. but you choose to watch more t.v. to get your skills "just right" before starting. So you're sitting there thinking that you had good intentions of course, but that only justifies laziness in most cases.
I often wonder these things because a lot of my personal interests seem to hold more meaning than I had ever intended for them. My most recent example would be that of sign language. All of my life I have thought that I would have a deaf child and that I should learn to sign. I've had countless opportunities to learn basic sign, but I've never really taken advantage of them. When Benjamin was born, I actually thought to myself, "Well, he's not deaf, so it must be our second child and I still have time to learn". Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine that I would need to know sign language for a child that has perfect hearing.
Become masters of your own hobbies. Like to draw? Teach an art class to neighborhood preschoolers. Like to read? Volunteer to teach adults to read. Like to garden? Mow your neighbor's yard when they are on vacation. Like to fix cars? Teach your friend to change his oil. Like to cook? Find a shut in from your church and send them your leftovers. Computers? Teach your Grandmother how to send email.
Service to others does not have to be boring. Life is supposed to be fun!
Friday, January 9, 2009
My surroundings
The older I get and the more I move, the more important it is to me to surround myself with people and things that I love. An outsider looking at my house would probably say it's just full of "stuff". My home is not a "show home" by any stretch of the means and is not a page in a magazine. However, so many of my possessions are irreplaceable and have meanings way beyond their face value.
An outsider would certainly realize my love for artwork because of the mass abundance of paintings hanging on the walls and scattered about the house, but would not know that my Grandmother painted most of them, thus making the paintings infinitely more valuable to me than any Monet hanging in a museum. Outsiders would see that I have an affinity for odd furniture, but would not know that the deacon's bench in the living room was handcrafted by my Grandfather, whom I adored as a child and miss as an adult; and that the ottoman perched on top of it matches the low back chair that once graced the house of my Great-Grandmother, whom I also adored as a child and miss as an adult; and that the artwork hanging above the bench is a painting of Ocean Springs, which is where Warren and I purchased our first home that was all but destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. They would notice three dime-store variety-type canisters in my kitchen filled with various beans and corn, but they would not know that these are the same canisters that my Mom used decades ago that have managed to survive countless household moves and that I regard them as precious as one of my antique china sets which individual plates value at more than $100, when the movers pack my house every three years. They would notice that the dining room has four unusual pieces of art hanging on the walls, but wouldn't know that the framed doilie was knitted by my Great-Grandmother and later framed by my Grandmother; and that the round painting of a gray house that looks almost identical to my childhood home was a wedding gift from my parents; and that the crayola scribblings displayed front and center is the handiwork of my baby sister, whom was blessed with wonderful creative abilities at a young age. They would see three stuffed teddy bears now displayed in Benjamin's room on a high shelf, but would not know that two of those bears belonged to his Mother and one belonged to his Father, and that his parents both remember the names of all three bears. I could go on and on...
I encourage you to surround yourself with things that you LOVE, not things that are simply on the clearance shelf at Pier One Imports. There are simply too many Jones' to keep up with in this world. I'm content with being a Gilliland.
An outsider would certainly realize my love for artwork because of the mass abundance of paintings hanging on the walls and scattered about the house, but would not know that my Grandmother painted most of them, thus making the paintings infinitely more valuable to me than any Monet hanging in a museum. Outsiders would see that I have an affinity for odd furniture, but would not know that the deacon's bench in the living room was handcrafted by my Grandfather, whom I adored as a child and miss as an adult; and that the ottoman perched on top of it matches the low back chair that once graced the house of my Great-Grandmother, whom I also adored as a child and miss as an adult; and that the artwork hanging above the bench is a painting of Ocean Springs, which is where Warren and I purchased our first home that was all but destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. They would notice three dime-store variety-type canisters in my kitchen filled with various beans and corn, but they would not know that these are the same canisters that my Mom used decades ago that have managed to survive countless household moves and that I regard them as precious as one of my antique china sets which individual plates value at more than $100, when the movers pack my house every three years. They would notice that the dining room has four unusual pieces of art hanging on the walls, but wouldn't know that the framed doilie was knitted by my Great-Grandmother and later framed by my Grandmother; and that the round painting of a gray house that looks almost identical to my childhood home was a wedding gift from my parents; and that the crayola scribblings displayed front and center is the handiwork of my baby sister, whom was blessed with wonderful creative abilities at a young age. They would see three stuffed teddy bears now displayed in Benjamin's room on a high shelf, but would not know that two of those bears belonged to his Mother and one belonged to his Father, and that his parents both remember the names of all three bears. I could go on and on...
I encourage you to surround yourself with things that you LOVE, not things that are simply on the clearance shelf at Pier One Imports. There are simply too many Jones' to keep up with in this world. I'm content with being a Gilliland.
New Blog
So I have the other blog: Benjaminsmamma, but that is entirely centered around Benjamin... and the parenting joys and dilemmas I encounter, so I figured that I should have another blog that is centered around the rest of my life. My musings, if you will. No idea how often this blog will be updated... perhaps more than the other one, perhaps less. It's fun to read comments, so if you have something to say, don't let your inhibitions stop you. I promise to be nice most of the time. :)
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