Offensive Part Deux

Oh, and let me clarify about my I Am Offended--GET OUT blog--the rebel flag does not belong on the state house. Neither did the rainbow on the white house. The rebel flag is offensive to a large people group. I get that. I'm sorry, but that Gay Pride business is just as offensive to another demographic. How about we just get over ourselves and let both fly? True freedom of speech shuts this whole stupid mess down. Just let the rednecks have their flag and let the gays have their flag, and everyone goes home fat and happy.

(Sheesh. Gonna make people leave the Wal-Mart because of a stupid shirt? The Wal-Mart which has such a high standard of dress code in the first place. Keep in mind these are the same people who actually produced an ISIS cake after refusing to make a rebel flag cake. You, Sirs, are insane. A SHIRT! Where is my "I Hate Everyone" Shirt? I think ima wear that bad boy all week and see who I can offend.)

Other things that offend me:

1. Stupidity (really, don't we all hate stupid people?). 
2. People who spit in public (while not engaged in some sort of sporting activity).
3. Anyone who disparages fried foods (see No. 1: Stupidity).
4. Vegans (come on--you know you think your lifestyle is superior and are condescending to everyone about it). 
5. The Geek Squad (who keep taking my stuff but not actually repairing it). 
6. The entire ABC Family Channel (because most of the programming is actually inappropriate for my family).
7. Hallmark movies (for being vapid). 
8. Auburn (I really, really hate Auburn). 
9. Women who try to steal my husband (it happens when you're married to a fantastic man, but I will cut you, Sister.). 
10. People who say the F-word in public. I have kids. Yes, I know they've heard it before, but I'd prefer not to hear while standing next to them. Keep it to yourself.
11. Packaging I can't open.
12. People who fuss about church but don't actually go there or do anything but occupy a pew once they get there.
13. Auburn. Auburn offends me. ROLL TIDE! 

Pass the Tylenol.

Full House

All summer I work at the school. (School Teacher Problems.) I like getting organized and ready for the school year. It's the most fantastic thing ever to know that you are preparing strong minds for the world.

This is part of my journal from Summer 2015.




I worked at the school several hours.  I'm going again tomorrow, but I'm taking slave labor reinforcements. So, some of those kids who are going with me to work are spending the night. It's like a huge sleepover around here all of the time. I wake up and find extra people in my house on a regular. It's quite exciting. Like a daily mystery

And I'm thankful that my house is "that house". You know the one where all of the kids congregate.

I like to say, "We are the party." And it's largely true. Since we live this very transparent life, everyone is welcome because there is nothing to hide. We are just what we are. Loud, crazy, funny, obnoxious, vibrant, insane people crammed into a small space.

Of course, that makes it sort of loud and crazy sometimes. (All the times)  The biggest miracle of God that I get to see on a daily is the "feeding of the 5,000". I thaw something out to eat and it's clearly enough for eight, but not enough for 16, then 16 people show up to eat. It's a problem. But here's the miracle; there is always enough.

I enjoy the youth and kids. They are a blessing to my life that I can't quite explain fully except that I thank God for allowing me to have a full quiver and to have so many Bonus Kids in my house. I am thankful.

Jesus and the "G" Word.

Not a single firearm on the show. Dozens of people brutally
murdered every week. 

What did Jesus actually say about being armed? 

Luke 11:21 "When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace."  

Being armed isn't the problem. Stop pretending it is. Hating other human beings is the problem. Evil is the problem. And sin in the world is the problem. 

Jeremiah 17:9 "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?" 

Every single person who watches The Walking Dead and Into the Badlands ought to understand both of those concepts clear as a bell. It isn't the weapon. It's the wielder. Every. Single. Time.

Show motto: Save the bullets; use a knife. 

I live in a very rural area in the county not in a city. I am 30-45 minutes away from first responders--police, fire, and ambulance. On any given night there are two deputies on patrol in a county that is 701 square miles with approximately 40,000 residents. If someone breaks into my house, and the two deputies are already busy or on the other side of the county it could be even longer than 30 minutes.

We have a massive drug problem in the county. Meth is our number one manufactured item. I am surrounded by desperately poor people.

Can you even begin to comprehend how long 30 minutes is if someone is coming into your home to do you or your children harm? It's a lifetime.

We have an escape plan for fire, home invasion, and animal attack. (Not even joking--packs of wild dogs roam the countryside--we had a local pastor attacked by pit bulls on his morning run just a week ago. We also see bobcats and coyote regularly.) I have an outdoor dog that will begin barking at you in the yard, but is trained to alert if you approach my house. Her bark sounds as if she is going to eat you alive. And she just might.

And we are armed. And if you approach my door and are a stranger, I have a weapon in my right hand as I ease the door open with my left. And I know how to use them. And my kids know how to use them. And I will shoot you without even thinking twice about it. And I have absolutely no intention of shooting to wound. I'm going to try to kill you.

Because When a strong man is armed he keepeth his palace and his goods are in peace. Jesus said so.

Haters Gonna Hate

So...

I've been so angry lately that I feared anything I wrote in my foggy cloud of fury would be vindictive or punitive or riddled with bias and prejudice and quite simply, Not Nice Things. 

(And since my Momma raised me right, if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.)

But finally, slowly, quietly the sun rose again in my small life. The rain burned off of the smoking blacktop, and my spirit was peaceful again, allowing me some clarity of thought and kindness of spirit. 

Because (and here it comes) if you jack around with my kids, I hate your guts. 

That's right. I said it. And I meant it. 

I. HATE. Your. Guts.

And that tiny, evil sentence requires me to breathe and pray and meditate on Scripture and repent and find my center again before I do something that can't be retracted or repaired. 

If you are being brutally honest with yourself, sometimes you feel this same way. You hate the coach, you hate the teacher, you hate that mean girl, you hate the boyfriend/girlfriend, you hate other parents...the key to getting over this is to remember this awful truth: 

The World Does Not Revolve Around Me or My Children.

Gak.  There it is. Painful, isn't it? Still truth. Because that person I hate probably isn't whistling Dixie about me either. They probably wish me ill daily. It's a disgusting thought, because it means I might have to change. And forgive. And move forward even when I've been wronged (or just perceived I have been wronged). 

Gee, thanks, God. (I hate that part.) Because I like wallowing in my anger and stewing in my righteous indignation. It's pickling me as I type. I'm fueled by that fury, channeling it into other areas of my life. Riding it around until it's dead. Kicking it for good measure just to make sure I can't mount up again. 

While I'm at it, how about this gem:

I Am Not Always Going to Be Treated Fairly. Neither Are My Kids.

Man, that stinks. I hate that one too. This Christ-centered life is becoming painful. It's hitting me too hard where I live. It's too much, God. It's not possible for me to forgive those who have wronged me and get over my petty complaints.

But You did; therefore, I can. And will.