Posts Tagged ‘faith

18
Apr
18

Too Many Offices Behind the Screen?

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Everything is going internet and APP these days.  Or, so it seems.  No one wants to do anything face-to-face, anymore.  Where do you think that will lead?  And, what kind of faith do we have to have to trust those we cannot even see?

I mean, we might chance the occasional online shopping to get something that isn’t available in the local store.  But, if it’s near home, can’t we sum up the courage and resources to go get it?  [Not if we’re going to support drone service, download the app for everything and do what when something goes wrong?  Who are you going to call for help?  Some Uber android service representative?  Some remote control repair person?]

What gets me going on this tangent today?  Well, I’m noticing sooooo many bloggers writing advice columns for just about everything.  They take up probably 2/3 of this blog site, leaving the other 1/3 to personal tales and soooooooooooooooooo many poems.  Oh, and a few artists’ simplest of works.  Look, I drew a pencil.  LIKE it.  And, random photos from people looking to scrapbook life.

I get to thinking…who takes this advice seriously?  Who reads all of this stuff?  And, how do you trust some advisor you never met?  Are you going to consult a doctor who never touches your body or witnesses what you are suffering?   You prefer self-diagnosis and assumption?  [And, what of the advisor who isn’t even legitimately advising but leading you on to some linked sham?]

I forget that’s what we’ve been doing for a long time with tabloid TV shows and magazines featuring countless ads for pills, cigarettes, ridiculously expensive cars and watches, etc.  Magazines are known for this sort of thing.  So many articles and cover blurbs about how to do this and that better than you probably know yourself.  Why ask someone you know when you can read about it from a complete stranger?

Except, with good ol’ magazines and TV, there was nothing to open or click on to give you trouble.  You slowed your life down to read or watch.  You didn’t invite “malware” to shut down your TV or fingers.

Whatever happened to “word of mouth” or consulting your neighbor?

So, what am I achieving by writing out these thoughts?  I dunno.  Who really cares.  You’ve got more important things to do, see and read.  Like all those advice columns.  This isn’t exactly one of them.  But, it might sound like one.  And, while I know I am a genuine heart and soul writing these words, I realize you only know the text on the screen.  Everything else you feel is your imagination (and, maybe, gut feeling if you’re lucky).

 

 

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06
Feb
17

My Response to “Teen in Ogden, Utah” (Dear Abby)

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You can find my response to this and other letters, now available for your viewing and opinion, on the designated page

But, while you’re here, have a read.

“Teen” is fifteen years old and entering a Crusade, a religion-fueled war, with his divided parents. How the parents even managed to get married and have a kid is a mystery, considering one believes in God and the other sounds like an atheist. What is not a mystery is why “Teen” is distancing himself from the parents and feeling uncomfortable when church-related topics arise.

I might have left this one alone had I not been bothered by Abby’s last “sage advice” from a “wise clergyman.”

———

The opposite of faith is certainty? What is that supposed to mean, Abby? And, what do you expect this young man to do with that? I’d expect him to emulate his father. I do not think such “wise” words would inspire him to remain true to any religion/faith.

“Teen,” there is only one thing I am certain of: you will learn a great deal about how impulses of your parents dwell inside you in the coming years if not decades. And, you will do battle with those facets until you can rest assured in your choices. Knowing this, you can either accept the stress you feel as part of the life you’ve been given or seek out activities and groups that relieve this stress. Hopefully, ones that don’t involve “recreational drugs” and/or violence other than martial arts practice. A club or class/group that eases your mind will be far less costly than a therapist and could result in making some valuable connections.

If I may ask a few questions…

Exactly how does your belief in God vary so greatly from your mother’s that there is this problem? And, why does it seem like your non-believing father has no interest in involving himself in this struggle of yours? I picture him hiding his face behind a newspaper or cellphone while your mother “encourages” you to participate in a religious community. Apparently, you have no concern for hurting HIS feelings because he has offered none; he simply lets you do what you like until it affects his wallet or some other non-religious aspect of his life. [Or, is it possible your parents are on the verge of divorce and you simply opt to support your mother while opposing your father? Is it possible your mother married your father with aspirations of changing his ways and making him a part of her chosen faith?]

I may be off-base. But, I hear these other voices in response to your comments.

You say: It’s really uncomfortable when people ask why I haven’t been in church.
I hear/think: Church bothers me because it’s too formal. [Or maybe] Church bothers me because I’m asked to give money. [Or] Church bothers me because it interferes with my free/fun time. [Or] Church bothers me because my parents don’t go there together; it does not hold us together as a family.

You say: Mom signs me up for church activities, and I don’t like going.
I hear/think: I struggle with socializing/participating. [Or] I’m anti-social. [Or] I suffer from social anxiety.

Abby suggests telling your mother how much you love her and hope she will continue loving you as you explore your life/religious options. I would guess none of that sounds easy or comfortable for you. Am I right?

If I was you, I’d have a hard time saying I love my mother, too. At your age, I was entering a similar battle and just starting to distance myself from my parents who seemed unable to respect my decisions and even my personal space. Pressure to change one’s ways or attend certain activities could be a sign of lacking trust in you to make your own decisions and come to your parents for advice when you need it.

I cannot tell you which faith is right or wrong. But, if you can better understand or see what motivates the feelings you have, you can answer your own questions. If your mother is so bent on getting you involved in the activities of her church community, hurting her feelings may be inevitable. Yet, if her faith and love for you is strong, she will recover from the bruises. [Just don’t cut ties with her completely unless that is what you truly want. What you want today may differ from what you decide to have in your life years from now.]

04
Aug
14

There Is a Bed–wishful version

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There’s a bed waiting for me,
Waiting to fold me into its fluffy, yielding covers,
Waiting to accept and embrace me in its comfort,
Waiting to share thoughts and opinions,
Waiting to make the senseless reasonable,
Waiting to make the arduous easier to conquer,
Waiting to make paperwork and materialism go away,
Waiting to dismiss gossip and politics,
Waiting to nurture trust and faith,
Waiting to dispel bitterness and despair,
Waiting to work out differences,
Waiting to find the missing puzzle piece,
Waiting to connect the dots,
Waiting to teach me a lesson and learn something new,
Waiting to explore,
Waiting to occasionally forgo exploring and be content where we are,
Waiting to be creative,
Waiting to leave behind clever notes and invitations,
Waiting to reward attendance,
Waiting to exchange massages,
Waiting to gaze upon the stars with mutual speculation,
Waiting to share a pizza or two,
Waiting to share movies both good and bad.
Waiting to share fantasies.
Waiting to share games and cartoons like eternal youths,
Waiting to share music, dance and song,
Waiting to share stories,
Waiting to compose masterpieces as a team,
Waiting to craft costumes and attend masquerades,
Waiting to paint the town any number of colors,
Waiting to plan the next adventure,
Waiting to show and see there is nothing to fear,
Waiting to accompany me on the journey,
Waiting to provide time and space for solitary meditation,
Waiting to welcome me back when that moment has passed,
Waiting to remind me why I like it so much,
Waiting to wipe the dirt from my face (or ignore it),
Waiting to nurse my bruises,
Waiting to strip me of my woes,
Waiting to turn my frown with a kiss,
Waiting to dazzle me with her hair,
Waiting to move me with her eyes,
Waiting to explore me with her strong yet delicate fingers,
Waiting to peel out of her mousy disguise,
Waiting to inspire me with the beauty of her craftsmanship,
Waiting to accent the moment with the proper setting,
Waiting to growl at thunder and yelp at lightning,
Waiting to run and laugh in the rain,
Waiting to find a hiding place at the beach or in the forest,
Waiting to fill the space with candles, leaves and flower petals,
Waiting to purr beneath a full moon,
Waiting to roll in the mud, pudding, leaves, sand or snow,
Waiting to get messy and clean up after ourselves,
Waiting to be sensible and not reckless with our passions,
Waiting to make sure we won’t be disturbed,
Waiting to cast off the preconceived notions of others,
Waiting to liberate our senses,
Waiting to rest peacefully side-by-side,
Waiting to let the perfumes evaporate from our bodies,
Waiting to share a hot bath or shower,
Waiting to make the most of sponges, bubbles and lather,
Waiting for a private turn before sharing a spontaneous slumber party,
Waiting to stay up all night and yet not lose a day,
Waiting to be loved,
Waiting to reassure me I will never be alone,
Waiting to wipe away the tears of doubt,
Waiting to elate with a smile when given a sign of hope,
Waiting to rise with the sun,
Waiting to breathe new life into each other,
Waiting to face the next day with renewed energy.
Waiting to pool strengths and bear with the weaknesses of aging,
Waiting to face death without fear,
Waiting to be thankful for and celebrate what we shared,
Waiting to return what was given,
Waiting to move on in peace.
There’s a bed waiting for me.
And, it feels so good to be home.

 

~Writingbolt, 7-30-2014

[In one of my rare attempts at poetry, this is the uplifting alternative to what first

came out as a negative, emotional outburst.]




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