Meeting Our Needs One Member at a Time

This week has been a tough one. Starting school, driving the kids to and fro (and driving a bunch of kids who aren't my biological kids, but are still MY kids, to and fro), sporting events, practices, hair cuts, new lunchboxes and shoes...it's always something.

Here are some God Sightings from my week:

We aren't exactly rolling in money. I know, I know, it's shocking, but The Husband is in full-time ministry, and while the church is INCREDIBLY generous, it's still only one salary and seven people (you can do the math). Mother's income is eaten immediately by her needs (usually with some thrown in from our pot). I work to pay for the kids' tuition and insurance, so I end up flush (not complaining--my job is a blessing from the Lord and an answer to a zillion prayers). Anyway, this week The Boys needed cleats for football and a little gas money. I wasn't sure how I was going to pay for that exactly, but just went ahead and did it anyway, trusting that God always meets my need--past, present, and future. On Thursday afternoon I handed them every dime I had and said a little prayer.



The Fashionista Going Hard



Seemingly Unrelated Topic: Thursday night I had no idea how I was going to get home, feed the two littlest shorties, and get to the volleyball game in Marion on time. No idea. On paper it was completely impossible. I left the school at 3:00, the game was at 4:00, we live 1 1/2 hours from the game site, and I still had to get home and change and feed the kids. I rushed home, threw clothes on, and came back through wondering how I was going to pay for dinner since I gave away our fun money to Cleats and Gas only to find a Boston butt and grilled hamburgers (still smoking hot from the grill) from a church member on my counter. Praise God!

Naynuh waiting for the play.

We hauled out to the game like we were tied to a rocket only to find out that the games were a little delayed in starting, which might have been irritating to some of you, but it was really answered prayer for me. (Sorry about that, everyone.) They didn't have a ticket fee because it was only a practice game (Praise God yet again!) So, we didn't miss a single second of E-squared tearing it up on the court. If not for that man who brought the food or the delay in starting time or the free entrance, we would have been in a jam. God used all of those circumstances to meet my needs. Amazing!

Will you PLEASE stop taking my photo, Mother?

I know that you think I've lost my train of thought here, but just hold on, I'm getting to the point: We run about three or four loads of laundry every single day. Between sports, PE, school clothes, church clothes, baths, etc., it's just a minimum. There is no such thing as "laundry day" around here. Every day is laundry day. We have a hand-me-down washer and dryer set. A local family was moving into a new home and wanted new appliances and offered us their old ones. Since the ones we were using at the time were 17-years-old and had been repaired multiple times, we eagerly accepted. Well, now that set is 15-years-old and has starting having some issues. The dryer has to run two, full 60-minute cycles to dry the clothing. So, laundry takes literally all day with everyone checking and moving the clothing around.

I know this LOOKS like a washer and dryer,
but really it's the provision of God Almighty!

Friday, after this incredibly tiring and financially draining week, I came into the house to see a brand new, energy efficient, high-capacity washer and dryer already installed in my cleaned-up laundry room. I almost burst into tears. If I had one wish, one need in my house, it would have been a new washer and dryer. I can't tell you what that moment was like exactly. To know that my Heavenly Father used the feet and hands and checking account of faithful servants to provide directly for MY needs and the need of my family...well, it's just a little overwhelming. Praise God and His Servants!

The Point: It occurred to me that I have in the past been That Person to other people. And now I'm asking you...have you ever been That Person for someone else? If not, you ought to try it sometime. I can tell you from the giving end and from the receiving end that both are rewarding beyond anything you can possibly imagine. And God tells us to give it a go--if we tithe and give and pray and listen, He will pour out a blessing on us that we can't contain. He'll meet our needs and meet the needs of others through our faithfulness. Try Him, and see if it is true. I dare you.

Malachi 3:10 Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the LORD Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it.

Please, Feel Free to See Right Through Me



See? They are excited about it too.

I love school. I have always loved school. I love the new books, notebooks, fresh pencils. I love office supplies and the smell of the library. I can't wait for a new organizer and highlighters and all of the little gizmos that go along with the first day. I know I'm a geek. I get it. (But I'm a geek with really quality school supplies.) God blessed me in a mighty way when He gave me the opportunity to teach high school English seventh grade through twelfth grade. (A complete lesson planning nightmare, but incredibly rewarding job experience.) I get to love school all over again.



Part of the Youth Group from Church

I've been enjoying these "you might have lived in..." or "you might have attended such and such school" on Facebook lately. I noticed that the same brand of stupid was around twenty-some-odd years ago when I attended high school as exists now. Some common activities that never go out of style include: setting things on fire, going fast (in whatever is handy be it a golf cart, car, shopping cart, etc.), sneaking around (usually just because you want to get away with something and not because it's altogether that awful), driving issues, and teachers who were/are insane.

     

DNow Weekend

There are people who are wired to work with little kids. I am not this person. My patience threshold is too low, and my tolerance for snot is almost non-existent. (I admire people in children's ministries more than I can say.) I, however, do seem to have a strong affinity for youth, teens, and young people in general. They crack me up. They inspire me. They tolerate me reasonably well (as much as they can any adult). Probably because I get the joke. I genuinely LIKE them, being around them, talking to them, listening to them, and participating in their lives. 

Working with students on the school play

The key to working effectively with youth is simple: transparency.



They can spot a phony from a hundred paces at sunset. They can sense fear and lying and loathing. They understand that most adults want something from them, and as a result they are wary, guarding their secrets carefully lest the information be used against them. And can you blame them? How many of us have done something incredibly stupid or reckless simply because we were young? Can I get an Amen? 



Junior High at School

Getting past that youth barrier isn't about them letting down their guard, it's about teachers and adults letting our guard down. There has been a tremendous amount of press about Facebook and whether friending between parents/teens or teachers/students is appropriate. For me it's an easy answer--absolutely yes, because I hope I am living my life in such a way that it's never an embarrassment to me, my family, my church, or my testimony. A really good general rule for Christians is if I don't want anyone to see me doing it, I probably shouldn't be doing it in the first place.


As Christians, if we are going to reach people with the saving power and message of Jesus Christ, we have to be a people of complete transparency. We have to walk the walk. We have to be the same all of the time. We have to live a life that is an example, not have things we need to "hide" or "private". If you are going places and doing things that you need to block from certain folks, I question the wisdom in doing them.

Psalm 106:39 They defiled themselves by what they did; by their deeds they prostituted themselves.
 

Youth on Mission Trip

Matthew 5:16 Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.

So, if you're a Christian who is going to work with youth, I highly advise you to get your personal life in order first. (That's the Scriptural intent behind getting that plank out of your own eye before launching a massive splinter search in other people's lives). Make sure that your life is a worthy example. Live the same way publicly that you do privately. Be honest. Give them a break. Keep their secrets. Be truthful. Accept stupid and sometimes reckless behavior as normal (I'm very sorry Mr. McBay (High School) and Mr. Walljasper (Jr. High) for all of the grief that we gave you in school discipline, but I don't regret a second of the fun).

I can't wait to see what God has in store for our high school, junior high, and youth group this year, and I am so thankful that He lets me be a very small part of His plan!


My precious high school students and cast of MidSummer Night's Dream

Titus 2:7-8 "In everything set them an example by doing what is good. In your teaching show integrity, seriousness and soundness of speech that cannot be condemned, so that those who oppose you may be ashamed because they have nothing bad to say about us."









Doing The Right Thing

The Husband says that I have stray dog syndrome. I attract them. Must be something they smell in me.

Peanut and Biscuit



We have a ton of stray dogs that have taken up residence at the pastorium. We moved in and not three months later Snowball showed up. She proceeded to have puppies on our carport in the dead of winter. It was so very cold. I agonized over that dog, taking comforters literally off of the twins' beds and using them for bedding, helping her puppies come, and then arranging them so they wouldn't be squished. Snowball let me right near her without so much as a whimper and I just knew that It Was The Right Thing To Do.



Bear. Carter. Biscuit.

Then Peanut and Biscuit came. Peanut was half starved and the most pitiful thing you've ever seen. She lived here for six months and was starting to look reasonably healthy when she was bitten by a snake protecting our home. She had to be put down, but died keeping a poisonous snake away from our children. Biscuit found a lady friend up the road and moved on to greener pastures. They were quickly followed by LeRoy (the neighbor's dog who lives here now) and Dixie (the biggest full-blood bloodhound I have ever seen who was, quite literally, in love with The Husband) and now Big Dog, a huge black lab.

We feed and water them and make sure they have shelter. This year we even put a space heater in the garden shed out back with some fresh bedding on the ground. (No dogs are freezing to death at Casa Johnson.) Someone said that if we'd stop putting out food, they'd go away. My question in response is how can you let something that has come to you begging for help, shelter, and food go hungry when you have the means to provide for it? What does that say about you as a human? What does that say about you as a Christian? (At least pick it up and take it to the shelter.) No, as for me and my house, we are putting out the scraps and buying the dog food and loading everyone up for shots and spaying. Yeah, it's expensive. Yeah, it's not my responsibility. Yeah, they aren't my dogs. So what?  I'm doing it anyway. Simply because It's The Right Thing To Do.

I know two youth in particular who stand in my immediate field of vision who are in need of help.  I see them several times a week. I know that they are in less than ideal circumstances (to put it mildly), yet I'm struggling to get their needs met. One lives in--let's just say a less than ideal home for children. One is fostering with a family because his mother is in rehab and his father is in prison. They need school clothes. They need school supplies. They need stuff. They need sports fees paid. They need someone to drive them to and from sporting events and then sit in the stands and cheer for them. They need rides to church and youth parties and to fun stuff. They need someone to invite them fishing and then actually get in the car, go pick them up, take them fishing, and just be there.

Some of you know that I've been fund raising to pay for school for one of these youth. He needs to go to the Christian school in our area for a variety of complicated reasons (which I am more than happy to share if you know me personally and want more details). One family approached me proactively about helping me pay for his clothing (and I can't even begin to thank that family for all they do in our church and community). And two people/families stepped forward to help when I sent out the call:

--One, a single woman who doesn't know this young man.
--Two, a family with kids who are paying an astronomical amount already on the adoption process (which is another blog altogether--when so  many kids need good homes why should a domestic adoption cost ANYTHING?????).

It's not going to be enough. We have to stop discussing our Christianity and begin living it in a daily, real way.

When my mother was sick, we had no way to pay for all of her expenses at home. It was a nightmare. Our help came from the last place I ever would have expected. I have a cousin in Atlanta. She mailed us their family vacation money. All of it. A huge check. We bought supplies and paid for medications and home IVs and paid a nurse to come in two days a week so that I could retain my sanity. I can't tell you what the gift did for our family.

Her choice, made with her husband and her kids, to skip the family vacation and to mail us the $5,000, changed our lives (and maybe even changed theirs a little). They are Catholic. They live in another state. She is the sibling rivalry I never had with my own brother. She behaved like my sister when she stepped up to the plate and put her money where her faith lived. I'll never forget it. (Especially when my biological brother has done absolutely nothing in terms of my mother's care or finances. Not a single dime or visit outside of Christmas.)

Where is your faith? As Christians, we do owe these boys something.

Proverbs 3:27-28 Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is in your power to act.  Do not say to your neighbor, “Come back tomorrow and I’ll give it to you”— when you already have it with you."

Psalm 82:3-4 Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked

So, today I'm loading up one of those young men and buying his school stuff. I've also committed to make sure that this young man will not miss a single practice, because I'm going to drive him to all of them, and he will have someone cheering just for him in the stands on game day. That's going to be my contribution.

What's your plan? Sometimes you have to do the right thing simply because It's The Right Thing to Do.


Proverbs 21: 3 Whoever shuts their ears to the cry of the poor will also cry out and not be answered.

What I Did For My Summer Vacation



These people only have two kids. Enough said.

 So, I have shingles. Again. On my face. Fun times. It just proves that although I appear to be handling my stress level well, obviously, I'm NOT. Incidentally, ten people have asked me today why I haven't had the vaccination shot. One, I already HAVE the shingles; I don't think I need to be vaccinated for something I actually have. Two, I'm not over 60, so they won't give it to me. There’s something funny in there, but I’m not sure that I’m in on the joke. (Usually that means that you ARE the joke.)

Spiritual Truth Number 76: Working at an 8-5 job in an office somewhere is less stressful than being home full time. I don’t want to hear you complain one second about your commute or your boss or your co-workers. Shut it. You’re basically whining that you have two hours in the car to listen to whatever you want by yourself, you have someone above you who takes all of the heat even if you screw up, and there’s no way that you can prove your co-workers are worse than being trapped in the house with kids. I’ve never once had a co-worker run naked covered in wet grass and mud from playing in the sprinkler through my newly mopped office, throw up on me, or put his/her hand in my glass during a business luncheon to fish out ice cubes or a lemon. We don’t feel sorry for you. We think you’re a light weight. From now on, if I ask a woman if she "works outside of the home" I'm going to add "or do you slave inside of it"?

On the Subject of Food: The dishes. My God, my God, wherefore art there so many dishes??? And why are they in my sink with the food still on them instead of being scraped into the garbage first? What is wrong with you people? There is nothing grodier than a sink full of soggy Fruit Loops, unless maybe Raisin Bran. (I think it's that dadgum elf since I never see anyone actually putting anything in the sink.) I know that it’s like not “green” and stuff, but I’m seriously thinking about going all paper products in this house. Think of the water we’ll save. That’s being green, right?

I've also decided that my children aren't human. They are garbage disposals from another planet. Today I've cooked four times. FOUR TIMES! Like with the stove on. (This from the woman who doesn't particularly like cooking.) It's so bad that I'm actually debating if it’s a DHR moment should I decide to serve Pop Tarts for dinner tomorrow. (And if I get one email about my kids’ diets, you are too stupid to live and breed. I just said that I cooked four times today. I’m not actually going to serve Pop Tarts for dinner [at least I don’t think I am]. Go get some kids, and then I’ll listen to you. Maybe. [Okay, so probably not even then.])

And for the love of all that is good, no more caffeine, chocolate, sugar, red food dye, Kool-aid, ice cream, sugar cereal, doughnuts, cookies, or soft drinks for The Little Flower after like one o'clock in the p.m. Seriously. I'll kill you.

This isn't actually my house. Thank God.

Housekeeping, or lack Thereof: My poor, poor living room. It's a fort. It's a dining room. It's a video arcade. It's a bounce house. It’s an art coffee house. It's a water park (don't ask). It's an official bio hazard. It's cheer practice central. It's gymnastics class. It's a construction zone. It's a concert hall. It's a piano rehearsal studio. It's a disco. It's a movie theater. It's a day care center. It's a dog run. It's base in an elaborate game of hide and seek. It's an extra bedroom. It's a science lab. It's Thunderdome (two men enter/one man leaves). The only thing it's not is a living room.

Running To and Fro: I'm taking all of the credit for the gas prices falling. You're all welcome. I've been on the road so much that the oil futures have once again become secure. We run from one thing to the next, and we are barely on time for anything. I used to be on time everywhere, like as in early-is-really-on-time. Now I'm still wandering around my house aimlessly looking for a hair bow or flip flop or blanket or keys when it's time to be there (wherever THERE is on any given day). During the school year this place is operated like boot camp. Like for Marines. It must be the chlorine or sunblock or sleeping in an extra hour. Someone should do a study. 

George and Flat Stanley



Me No Speaka You Slang and a Random Panic Attack: When did the word "beast" replace "awesome"? And what exactly does it mean? Someone told me I'm 'beast' and one of my kids stopped me before I put a shoe upside his head. Holy Smokes, Batman!!!! I almost forgot all about Flat Stanley! I have to mail him off to some people today…who can I rook into that deal? Who loves me enough to return some photos? And who has kids who have to do this same sort of stupid, er, I mean, Socially Important, ahem, Project. And I think I’m also supposed to be selling some mess for volleyball gear like cookies or pizza or something. Ugh. Fund raisers stink. Cause you know who’s keeping up with all of the money and paperwork and actually selling the stuff, right? (And I’ll give you a hint, it’s not the Wonder Twins.) Double Ugh.

Spiritual Truth Number 131: You can't actually sleep if you have more than four people and a dog in the bed with you. It's more like a wrestling match. And I don't care if it is a king size bed.

Music, Music Everywhere and No Talent Anywhere in Sight: Why is the piano amplifier set on 11 all of the time? Do my kids need to have their hearing checked? And who decided that the keys should make a farting noise as a musical choice on the keyboard in the first place? Is someone actually trying to play Beethoven in the key of Gaseous Emissions? The dude who programmed that deal needs to be fired. 

Wiz Khalifa, for those not in the know.



I know all of the words (well, to the edited radio version) to Roll Up by Wiz Kalifa. This alone is reason to question all of my life choices leading up to this point. Worst. Song. Ever. It doesn’t even have a melody or any singing. It’s more like grunting. It's like the "Oh, Sheila" or the "Blame It on the Rain" of this generation. (I know the words to those songs too. What does that say about me as a person?)

Conclusion: How long have we been out for summer break again? Like four months? WHAT? You lie, Sir! Only four weeks? That can't be right. I'm having like a Groundhog Day do-over loop. Lord, help me....so, no one should even have to ask me why I have the shingles. I’ve got your shingles right here.

I Just Want to be a Blessing

Ever have one of those moments where you look up and think for a split second, my God, my God, I am so very blessed?  I have them quite often. Now, I'm going to leave people off of this list, because no one actually reads a ten-page-long blog post, but here are a few examples...
 

Martha & Heedy

Like when I walked into my kitchen after an exhausting day of Shortie Stuff only to find that a deacon at our church (Hi, Mr. Heedy!) brought baskets and baskets of fresh veggies to my house. Okra, squash, tomatoes, peas...see, I'd driven past a veggie stand on the way home and thought about stopping but had absolutely no money on me. Not a dime. And then I came home to everything I desired at that veggie place. I made this huge dinner: chicken casserole, rice, sliced red tomatoes, fried squash and okra, purple hull peas, sliced onion and fresh peppers, biscuits, and blackberry cobbler for dessert. And our Bonus Child had her prayer answered too--she'd been thinking about that chicken casserole all week and that's what I made! God is so good!



Bridgett, Noah, & Roddy



Or like when Mother's car caught fire at church last week (specifically her brakes), well another deacon (Hi, Mr. Roddy!) rushed right out with a fire extinguisher and put that thing out in just a second. We could have been tooling up the road and caught on fire or somewhere between here and Town all by ourselves (and one car catching fire in my lifetime is one too many, so I think God knew that I couldn't take it again). So, instead of a major disaster it was just sort of irritating. When the fire was out, we walked in and had church services, then walked to the house which is only 100 yards away. God is so good!

  

Swimming at Tack & JuJu's

Or like today when I pulled up my calendar and my biggest decision of the day is whether to take the kids to The Art Shop (Hi, Mrs. Melissa!) for the 10:00 class or the 2:00 class, because we want to swim before it rains. We go swimming and fishing at another deacon family where they let us use their backyard pool any ole time we want. (Hi, Tack and JuJu!) God is so good! 

Gretchen & David with their beautiful girls!



Or when I looked out my window to see men from church mowing the grass and weed eating like crazy and I think to myself, THANK GOD for these men (Hi, Mr. David and Mr. Waldrop!), because if the yard care were left up to me and The Husband it wouldn't be Casa Johnson, it would be Jungle Johnson. God is SO good!

Mrs. Mary Jane & Kory

Or like when these wonderful woman from church (Hi, Mrs. Mary Jane, Mrs. Kattie, Mrs. Betty Jo, Mrs. Betty Mae, Mrs. Katherine, Mrs. Annie, and everyone else!) just randomly pulls up with desserts, stuffed peppers, soup, salsa, etc., and we are so blessed because I don't do any of that (good enough to actually eat, that is). God is so good!

Or when it was time to start thinking about teaching the GA (girl's missions) class again for next year at church, and I'm thinking I'm a little burned out and need some fresh ideas, this lady steps right up to me before church and says, "Hey, I'd like to help you with the GAs this next year," like she's the perfect answer to prayer at the exact right moment (Hi, Mrs. Sherry!) God is so good!



Lilly in the NICU at St. Vincent's. Two months after birth



Or when my phone rang a few days ago...a stressed out pregnant mom (Hi, Mrs. Bragan!) with a baby about to be born premature (Hi, Baby Barrett!) and needing help, advice, information, mostly just someone who knew that feeling and prayer, and guess what? I knew EXACTLY what to say and what to pray because God gifted me with a micro-preemie and a  4 1/2 months NICU stay, giving me the exact words and thoughts and information necessary to minister to someone else in that same need at the perfect time. I'm so thankful for Lillian's early birth and our experience in the NICU, because we've been able to minister to so many other people. And that baby was born perfect and whole. God is so good!

 

Christopher



Or when The Number One Son (who still doesn't spend the night off from home because it stresses him out) wanted to go away to summer camp for the first time, but refused to go without his father, this wonderful youth from our church (Hi, Christopher!) said that he'd go and stay with my son so that The Husband didn't have to leave us for a week (which was an amazing answer to Steve's prayer since going to camp is like announcing a death march or something). God answered Carter's prayer, Steve's prayer, and my prayer all at the same time through that youth and his willingness to sacrifice. God is so good!

 Are you catching my theme? It's not God I actually see here...it's God through these people and their actions. So, to quote the sermon from The Husband, how are you being a blessing to others? How is God working through you? How is God working through me? Am I open to let God use me as a blessing?

I Kings 3:1-15 Solomon has a dream and God tells him to ask for anything he wants. Solomon chose wisdom, to be able to discern right from wrong in order to help and judge his people. He wanted to be a blessing, rather than to get a blessing. And later, God gave him everything his heart desired, beyond anything he actually asked for.

So, what about you? Are you being a blessing? I know that we are abundantly blessed by God's people every single day!

Next Time I'm Turning Her Loose. Seriously. I Mean It.

Is it only deaths that come in three's?

I'm beginning to think that Sister Sunshine moments do too, because I've been full up on crazy this week.

We have a climate-controlled storage unit at a local business.  I've had this unit for three years. We rented it in June of 2008 to store my mother's stuff when we sold her house. (God had other plans for her cancer and healed her completely.) I've never been a day late on the $115.00 rent; it has come right out of my checking account every month on the first without fail for three years.

We've also had many other business dealings with these people who own the mini storage. We've purchased a car from them (from one of their side businesses), and we've ordered signs for our church VBS several years (another side business). (And incidentally, now you know who they are.) Over the years, I've had several bizarre encounters with That Woman who manages the mini storage.

To put it concisely, she is a jackwagon.

She's short spoken, ill tempered, smart mouthed, slow to listen, and just rude in general. And today, she finally crossed The Line and spoke to me that way in front of youth from my church (who will swear without any coercion that I behaved myself from start to finish).

I went to empty my storage unit (that same one that I've been paying for the past three years in a timely manner), and my lock wouldn't open. Upon closer examination, something was jammed inside of the lock. It looked like a key was broken off in the locking mechanism. Since I haven't even been over there since October of last year, this was a little distressing.

I walked to the office and explained that there was something jammed in the lock, and I wasn't sure what to do next. I was told (sharply, with an exasperated sigh as though I had caused the problem) that there would be a fee of fifty dollars to core out the lock, and they would have to charge me for a new lock from the office.

She then indicated that we could review the tape to see "what was put in there" (said with a clever little one eyebrow lift implying not so subtlety that I'd broken my own key in the lock). I showed her the key on my ring to the storage lock and she said, "That's not the key." I insisted that it was because it's the only key I've ever had to any lock anywhere in the whole world, but I can't prove it because I can't put it in the lock because something is stuck.

She said, "Well, it came with two keys, where is the other one?" I told her the other key was at home on a nail by the back door, forty minutes away. She insinuated that IF I had that key and that IF it wasn't broken, they'd see what was in the lock when they cored it out and determine what to do next (basically calling me a liar).

I said, oh, that's okay, it's no problem, we don't need to core the lock, I'll be back with bolt cutters in a little while (thinking that I'm sort of being helpful here). Then I was informed, hands on hips and head bobbing (her, not me), that it is against the property rules and THE LAW to cut the lock off, that the owner would have to do it. Okay, I say that I understand completely, and I asked for his card.

She gave me that look you give boys who come to pick up your daughters for car dates, you know the look, squinty-eyed intense scrutiny.

"Why--do--you--want--THAT?"

(Um, I don't know, so that I can call him?) "So that I can contact Mr. XYZ to resolve this." (And mostly because I don't appreciate your people skills.)

She asked again, "Why?" this time slitting her eyes so hard she looked foreign for a second. (Keep in mind that I have two youth boys from my church in the office with me who are listening to this entire exchange.)

I explained in a calm, quiet voice (the boys said later that the calmer and quieter I got, the madder and louder she got) that I didn't think I should be responsible for the lock being jammed and that I could cut it off for free instead of having to pay for it to be removed, especially since I'm holding a key to the unit in my hand right there on the spot and have a photo ID that shows it's my locker.

I then politely asked if she'd come look at it to see if I was missing anything. She said, "In a minute."

I backed away from the counter and waited. She looked up after ten seconds and snapped, "What do you want?"

(I paused, wondering if this was a trick question.) "Um, I'm waiting for you."

She huffed and rolled her eyes, practically barking at me, "Ma'am, I'm going to be a-while."

I explained that I have people here right now (gesturing to the boys) to move the stuff out of the unit and that I live forty minutes away, so I really needed to wait for her to come. She indicated in short order that she wasn't going anywhere with me and that she'd have to contact the owner to come core the lock tonight and that it was out of her hands. I asked what would happen to my stuff if he just took the lock off at some random time during the night and was told that they'd put an office lock on it and charge me $20.00 for the lock.  Ahem.

(Mentally, I'm thinking to myself, okay, then, why didn't you just tell me to leave instead of telling me that you'd come out in a minute?) I picked up a card off of the counter and left without another word. (Now, I'll confess that I stomped from the door of the office to the door of the Yukon while muttering vile Scripture curses on her head, but I'm only human.)

After getting that out of my system, we left. I drove home, borrowed some tools, and drove the forty minutes one-way back to the unit. I used a magnet and screwdriver to get the shard of key out of the lock, then I drove to Wal-Mart to get WD40 to loosen up the rusted/damaged lock.

While I was in Wal-Mart buying the oil, That Woman called my house and spoke to my mother. This is what she said, "Ma'am? There is nothing in that lock." My mother, having absolutely no clue that any of this is happening, said, "What?" And Tha Woman (thinking she was talking to me) yelled, "I SAID, there is NOTHING in that LOCK!" Then she hung up on my Momma. She didn't even ask to speak to me and had no idea who even answered the phone. (I was blissfully ignorant of this exchange.)

While I was waiting in the storage hallway for a few minutes to let the oil do its thing, That Woman came out and told me that if I broke the lock off she would call the police. I just nodded and kept on working without saying anything (not knowing at that moment that she'd been rude to my Momma, otherwise I'd have gone Old Testament right there in that storage locker hallway). Then I put MY key, into MY lock, and opened the unit, where I removed everything I could carry. I went back into the office and showed the woman the lock and the keys (both unbroken) and said that I'd be back before Monday to collect the things that I couldn't carry by myself. She never even looked up.

I walked out to the porch and stopped for a long moment. I thought about the two units in that building that were full and the roughly 18 that were empty in the hallway. I thought about the building next door to the one I rented from which was entirely empty. I took in a deep breath, then turned around and went back in, and this is a fairly close approximation to the speech I gave her.

"Um, ma'am?" (no verbal response, no facial expression, she just looked up)

"Okay, well, see, what I want to tell you is that I worked in customer service for a very long time, and I hated it by the way, because the one thing that I know for certain is that you shouldn't fire the customer, and I constantly wanted to fire the customers for irritating me, which is why I left that sort of work. I was just irritated in general every single day.

I'm telling you this, because when I leave here, I'm going to tell everyone at my church and everyone on my Facebook and everyone that I see tonight at VBS in my community about this experience in this business. So are the boys who were here with me and saw your behavior today. I just thought that you should know for future reference, that the reason for all my discontent boils down to one thing: your attitude and your overall unconcern for me and my problem.

If at any point during this process you had been mildly sympathetic or understanding or kind spoken, this encounter would have gone much differently. I didn't come in here angry. I just had a problem and I needed your help. I haven't raised my voice or cursed or demanded anything or even been irritated with you. I would have appreciated the same courtesy.

Oh, and I want to give you a head's up that once I calm down, I'm calling The Man (as in the owner since I sort of know him), and probably following up with a blog and a letter. I think you should seriously consider finding a different job that doesn't require working with the public.

Please be sure that my account isn't charged for the unit in July. Thank you."

And then I left, the little doorbell ringy dinging my exit music. Sometimes it just doesn't pay to be nice. (And I'm eternally grateful that she didn't shoot me in the back through that big picture window.) I wonder what kind of service I'd have gotten if I let Sister out of the bag and went all Karate Kid Crane Pose on her. It's an interesting question. Next time, if the sales person is rude to me first, I think I'll find out.

You, Sir, Are a Moron.

So, I almost gave myself a stroke tonight on Facebook.

See, when someone of a different political persuasion than you posts something--an article or opinion piece or whatever--and then you post an opinion that runs contrary of the friends of said person, it can get ugly. On both sides.

I don't know why I get into these things. I always tell myself, just keep on scrolling, don't stop and read, just let it go. I'm just innocently scrolling though and read something on a post that is just so stupid that I can't help  myself and jump right in with both feet. I get that it's all my fault.

Tonight I was called out for not being compassionate to this MORON (my word choice) who robbed a bank so that he could go to jail and get free healthcare. Are you kidding me? He is the very definition of a moron. He's the reason that the word is still in usage in the English language. Not only does he have the T-Shirt, but he ought to have to carry a sign around warning other people that he's in their general vicinity.

Okay, some of you need to buckle in. I really hate to break this to all of you, especially my liberal friends because it's such a shock to them, but WE ALREADY HAVE FREE HEALTHCARE IN THIS NATION.

I feel better getting that out there. There, I said it. And it's the truth.

1) You can walk into any emergency room in the United States of America and get medical care--emergency or not.

2) You can walk into the health department in your county of residence and have your daily  medical needs met by professionals, including shots, prescriptions, and mental heath needs for you and your children.

3) You can receive indigent care in any Baptist hospital in the state of Alabama--you just meet the criteria, fill out the paperwork--they even assign you a social worker to make sure that you fill the paperwork out correctly, and they file it for you.

All you need to do is walk into the hospital. They will connect you with the next step. So, no one, NO ONE needs to rob a dadgum bank for healthcare. And if you do, I'll call you a moron right to your face, because if it quacks like a duck and walks like a duck...

This is what got me accused of "hating" this man. (I don't even know him, how can I possibly hate him?)   But here's the deal...the basic gist of the arguments against me (and they were plentiful) is that we owe this man healthcare and we should be compassionate and moved by his plight. (What about that bank teller who had to be hospitalized due to the trauma of being robbed? Where's the compassion for her? Who's picking up her co-pay and Prozac prescription? HUH?) 

At what point did healthcare become a right?  

Now, let me say that as Christians we are called to love our neighbor as ourselves. That right there is the clincher and the best argument against me (that no one online actually used). As a follower of Christ I DO owe this man help. I owe him access to help. AND HE HAS IT!!!!!!!!

In case you missed the first part of this post, THAT MAN HAS ACCESS TO FREE HEALTHCARE!

So, how is that not being compassionate? How is that not loving my neighbor? How is that hating him? He has access to health care, and I have provided that access through my tax dollars and the inflated price I pay for my own health insurance. Hello? I can't figure out how in the universe that makes me lack compassion and hate him.

Oh, yeah...I'm not dealing with rational human beings, I'm dealing with emotional human beings. This is the basic problem with Facebook postings just as a general rule. You put something down on paper that you believe to be truth and everyone is supposed to nod and smile and agree and hug a tree and sing Kumbaya, pass the granola, but you all need to be forewarned...if you post something/anything, I just might put Sister Sunshine Charlotte right up in the middle of your deal with both feet. And sorry, Sugar, but you actually INVITED her to the party when you hit "enter".

And you might get your own T-Shirt...