R – E – S – P – E – C – T

 

Respect:  1.) To have deferential regard for; esteem.  2.) To treat with propriety or consideration.  3.) To regard as inviolable; avoid intruding upon.  4.) Regard for and appreciation of worth; honor and esteem.  Courteous regard…

          Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about respect.  Who deserves it?  Who doesn’t?  Why or why not?  And mostly, what has happened to it?  A fairly recent experience initiated my pondering…

          A few months ago, I accompanied my husband on a business trip.  I looked forward to meeting some of his out-of-state employees because he speaks highly of his people and treats them with amazing regard.  During the course of the evening, one of his female employees approached and, turning to my husband, asked, “Is this your wife?”  He answered by introducing us.  I smiled and greeted her.  I don’t recall her saying anything to me in return, but she turned to my husband and said, “She’s just a little thing!” 

          I was astonished not only by her disrespect for her boss’s wife (me), but for him, her employer.  In thinking about it the next day on the way home, I had a flashback.  This had happened before.  The exact same statement… in a different state.  Again, it came from one of his female employees.  When he introduced us, she had blurted out, “She’s just a little thing!”  The only difference being that time, while talking to him, she looked me straight in the eye.  It didn’t take any imagination to understand it was a statement of disrespect and detain.

          I am very comfortable with my size me so it wasn’t her reference to my petite-ness which stunned me.  It was her complete lack of manners and knowing it was a deliberate choice on her part.

           Like purchasing a yellow car and then noticing all the other yellow vehicles on the road, the flashback and the more recent occurrence triggered me noticing manners and, in general, respect. 

          It promoted introspection as well. Is it me?  Do I not deserve respect?  Am I arrogant?  How respectful am I to others?   

          My conclusion:  Respect has little or nothing to do with the person receiving or being denied it, and everything to do with the person who gives or withholds it.  It totally reflects on their character!  For example:

        Mother Theresa was known for her respect for the poorest of the poor.  She did not place value on people based on anything but that they were God’s children.  Her reverence for each person, regardless of their station in life, caused her to be one of the most beloved and revered people in the world.

          Another example is the late Princess Diana.  She, too, was known for giving respectful, undivided attention to each person with whom she spoke.  She had a way of making them feel special, important.  It’s unnecessary to reiterate how well-loved Princess Diana was.

          I realize this post easily calls for a Part II, but here’s my summary for now…

          Because being respectful reflects on character, I find myself wondering:  What is the rampant disrespect in our children, ourselves, our leaders, our society, our country, saying?

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CRITICAL NEED FOR PRAYER!

 

 

At this very moment, there is a critical need for prayer for the safety of our troops in Afghanistan.  Whether or not you feel we should be there is not the issue.  God is waiting for us to cry out to Him for HIS intervention.  He knows what needs to happen and it needs to happen now!   We must turn to Him.  Immediately!  Lives are literally depending on our response.

My Dream Job

 

 

I would love to have a job as a bartender.  I realize that tending bar and Christianity don’t seem compatible.  In reality, I guess they aren’t.  I certainly wouldn’t want to be responsible for serving the drink which happened to be one-too-many. 

But I wish it were possible because I love people and I love to alleviate suffering.   Lord knows, there are a lot of hurting people who need a listening ear.  He knows there are hoards of people who long for a place of refuge to hang out.  A place where you can stop in unannounced and stay as long – or as briefly – as you wish.  A place where you can really be yourself and still find acceptance.  A place where you can find support instead of condemnation; encouragement instead of scorn; advocates instead of gossips; and cheerleaders instead of critics.  A place where no one finds your talents and gifts threatening, but are, instead, celebrated.  A place where people have your back, instead of stabbing you in it.  In other words, a safe place.       

I’d whip up batches of my specialties like Venison Stew, Chili, and home made breads.  Some of the beverages on my menu: 

          Living Water

          The Sincere Milk of the Word

          A Cup of Mercy

New Wine

 

For desserts: Chocolate Chip Cookies, and lots of laughter. 

I just need to think up a name for my bar.  Any suggestion? 

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Lucky Gray-haired Ladies

 

I envy gray-haired women.  Seriously.  It’s not that I wish I had gray hair.  I already do.  Anyone who knows me has seen it  peeking periodically from my center part and my temples.  

 

But I envy those sisters whose hair is completely natural.  Uncolored.  They have no worries about maintaining dyed strands.  They’re totally free from the whole thing -competition, color, maintenance… 

 

My older sister has gray hair.  Well, not really.  It’s silver!  And it is gorgeous!  She never has to monitor her roots.  She doesn’t spend money on salon color appointments.  Or home touch-ups.  (That would be me.)  She is liberated from it all.  And she is beautiful! 

 

I want that.  I want the freedom to be me the way I really am.  (At least my hair.)  

 

But, unlike women whose hair was allowed to  mature naturally, I must now, somehow, figure out how to make the transition from Medium Neutral Brown to gray.  What’s a girl to do?  

 

Have you noticed that in a salon you can get any color you want?  Except gray?  They say it’s impossible, but I don’t believe it.  Not for a minute.  I think professional hair dressers just don’t dare help women color their hair gray, because – I suspect – there’d be a stampede of women going that route.  What would that do to the hair-coloring industry? 

 

I tried it once, a few years ago.  I asked to have my hair streaked gray.  Can’t be done, I was told.  So my stylist gave me “highlights” instead.  It was an ugly, yellow, and very expensive, disaster.  I couldn’t wait to get home with my Wal-mart box of Clairol to repair the damage. 

 

Then, I was again back to square one.

 

Hero says he doesn’t mind my hair either way.  But he also says that, if I really want to make the change, I should let it grow out a little to start the process, and then get a really short haircut.   He also says that when he retires, he’s not going to shave or get a haircut for a year.  Maybe I’ll wait to tackle the hair issue til then, cuz I’m certain at that point no one will be looking at me. 

 

See how complicated life can get when you start messing with Mother Nature?  Sigh.  I want gray hair.  But how do I get there?  Other than a wig.

 

Am I the only one who feels this way?  Somehow, I’m certain I’m not alone.  Especially since Susan Boyle’s audition.  

 

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Oxygen for Your Soul

 

 

I’m just curious.  Has anyone NOT heard of Susan Boyle yet?  I understand it’s had around 16 million hits already, and I wish I could include a YouTube video of her here, but apparently those videos have had the embed disabled.  Still…

 

 – If you want to smile…

 

 – If you love seeing the “underdog” triumph…

 

 – If you love witnessing the glory of God  through excellence…

 

 – If you love it when God lifts up the humble…

 

 – If you love watching dreams come true…

 

– If you need oxygen for your Soul…

 

 …Do yourself a gigantic favor and go to YouTube, and type in Susan Boyle.  Turn up the sound, settle back, watch and listen. 

 

Then, please, come back and tell me what you think.  This video, and her story, thrill me beyond words.

 

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Tea-d Off!

 

Every parking spot was taken…so people walked toward the gathering…crossing a bridge over the Cedar River. 

Across the river, a crowd gathers.

Across the river, a crowd gathers.

 

People made their statements through a variety of methods. 

Welcome to the Tea Party

Welcome to the Tea Party

 

 

People who don't know their history are destined to repeat it.

People who don't know their history are destined to repeat it.

 

 

Having greatly under-estimated, the Tea Party organizers were stunned by the turnout.                                                                                                                                     

 

Americans in every age bracket peacefully made their point. 

Don't Tread on Me

Don't Tread on Me

 This was in the middle of the day when most people are not available for such an event. 

 

Children. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      Teens.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      Seniors.

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                            Babies.                                                                                      

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Those who don’t know their history are destined to repeat it.  But what will that do to our children?   

  

This grass roots movement – in all 50 states – has just begun. 

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Hello Kitty

 

This is too good not to share.  I recently received the following story in an email.  No writer’s name was included.  If anyone knows its origin, please let me know so I can give proper credit.  In the meantime…enjoy:

 

THE KOHL’S SHOPPING TRIP

 

Clutching their Kohl’s shopping bags, Ellen and Kay woefully gazed down at a dead cat in the mall parking lot – obviously a recent hit – no flies, no smell. 

 

“What business could that poor kitty have had here?” murmured Ellen.

 

“Come on, Ellen, let’s just go…”

 

But Ellen had already grabbed her shopping bag and was explaining, “I’ll just put my things in your bag, and then use this tissue…”

 

She dumped her purchases into Kay’s bag and then used the tissue paper to pick up, cradle, and lower the former feline into her own Kohl’s bag, and cover it.

 

They continued the short trek to the car in silence, stashing their goods in the trunk.  But it occurred to both of them that if they left Ellen’s burial bag in the trunk, warmed by the Texas sunshine while they ate, Kay’s Lumina would soon lose that new-car smell.

 

They decided to leave the bag on top of the trunk, and they headed over to K & W Cafeteria.

 

The two ladies went through the serving line and sat down at a window table.  From there, they had a view of Kay’s Chevy with the Kohl’s bag still on the trunk.

 

But, not for long!  As they ate, they noticed a woman in a red gingham shirt stroll by their car.  She looked quickly this way and that, and then took the Kohl’s bag without breaking stride.  She quickly walked out of their line of vision.  Kay and Ellen shot each other a wide-eyed look.

 

It all happened so fast that neither of them could think how to respond. 

 

“Can you imagine?” finally sputtered Ellen.  “The nerve of that woman!” 

 

Kay sympathized with Ellen, but inwardly a laugh was building as she thought about the grand surprise awaiting the female thief.  Just when she thought she’d have to giggle into her napkin, she noticed Ellen’s eyes freeze in the direction of the serving line.  Following her gaze, Kay recognized the woman in the red gingham shirt with the Kohl’s bag hanging from her arm.  The lady was brazenly pushing her tray toward the cashier.  Helplessly they watched the scene unfold. 

 

After leaving the register, the woman settled at a table across from theirs, put the bag on an empty chair and began to eat.  After a few bites of baked whitefish and green beans, she casually lifted the bag onto her lap to survey her treasure.

 

Looking from side to side, but not far enough to notice her rapt audience three tables over, she pulled out the tissue paper and peered into the bag.

 

Her eyes widened, and she began to make a sort of gasping noise.  The noise grew.  The bag slid from her lap as she sank to the floor, wheezing and clutching her upper chest.  The beverage cart attendant quickly recognized a customer in trouble and sent the busyboy to call 911, while she administered the Heimlich  maneuver.

 

A crowd quicly gathered that did not include Ellen and Kay, who remained rivited to their chairs for seven whole minutes until the ambulance arrived.  In a matter of minutes, the woman with the red gingham shirt emerged from the crowd, still gasping, and securely strapped on a gurney.

 

Two well-trained EMS volunteers steered her to the waiting ambulance, while a third scooped up her belongings. 

 

The last the ladies saw of the distressed cat-burglar was as she disappeared behind the ambulance doors…the Kohl’s bag perched on her stomach.

 

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