Babbling 'Bout the Year Ahead

For twenty-four years, I've written columns appearing mostly in the Fort Pierce Tribune, as well as the Forum, the Independent (aka the Weekly) Stuart News, Vero Beach Press Journal, Burlington Times-News, Main Street Focus, and (once) the Raleigh Observer. This wonderful slice of life began with New Year's thoughts appearing January 6, 1989 in the Tribune.

It happened this way: I noticed that a friend of ours had a guest column in the paper. I'm not sure if I asked her about it, or if I just sent something in, but Howard Sharp, the editorial page editor at the time, accepted it, asked me to come in for a photo and gave me the heads-up about submitting invoices. They actually had a freelance budget back then. Would that they did now!

At any rate, Bob Enns, the managing editor (I think they still called the top guy "editor-in-chief" then) stepped down soon after and Lee Barnes took the reins. I went in to introduce myself to "Mr. Barnes." "Call me Lee," he said in a South Carolina drawl he describes as John-Kerry-with-a-head-cold.

I noticed that on his wall hung a diploma frame. I know this is what it was because the store's slick paper insert was still inside it bearing those very words in fancy font: diploma frame. Apparently he was too busy reporting and managing newsrooms and being editors hither and yon in Florida and North Carolina to actually graduate from college. Go figure. But you can tell a lot about his character, humility, and humor from that one simple frame on the wall. We hit it off immediately.

So of course, I tried to take advantage right away, asking if I could write for the paper on a regular basis. Welllll, nooooo, but he did like my writing. "We'll be glad to print whatever you send in." So I sent something in every week.

Eventually I got an official request to be the Wednesday columnist in the local section, and it was, as they say, the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I made some folks mad, and got fired twice (by subsequent editors) but it was great while it lasted. There was one paper that actually closed down shop with an issue I'd written for, but I'm told that it wasn't my fault! Currently, I toss out the occasional guest column and Larry Reisman, editorial page editor for all three of Scripps' Treasure Coast papers is generous enough to run them. No more freelance budget, but hey, it's still a nice feeling to know that people in my community are reading what I've written.

Sometimes I get an email, or  comments attached to the online version of the column. Sometimes they're complimentary, sometimes snarky, both of which mean someone went beyond a thought and did something about it. To a writer, either pro or con taken to that level is a plus.

That's a lot of talking about me, something about which Lee educated me under his editorial guidance. Too many "I's" and I'd get a phone call telling me to either change it or to let me know why he wasn't running my column that week! But I re-read that 1989 inaugural opinion column the other day, and before I get to my 2012 thoughts about the new year, I thought I'd ramble on a little bit for context.

Rambling done (the downside to blogging is that no one edits me first!) what do I hope for in 2013? I'm not superstitious about the number 13, so none of that. And when you think about it, we passed the much-bandied-about Doomsday predicted by the Mayans on December 21, so why worry about 13?

Because our son Adam died in 2000, the turning of the numbers usually has me reflecting on that one point: it will be 13 years, now, since his death. Honestly, for many, many years, that is what every January 1 brought to mind. This year, however, there is a sense of change. Dynamics, family systems, possible local moves, new relationships for loved ones...that's a lot of change! What do I hope for, primarily, between the last day of 2012 and the last day of 2013? Resolutions are temporary, for the most part, but here are some random thoughts that apply to my own life, and may spark some thoughts about yours:

I need to manage my time better so I can get more exercise, and get other things better in order. I've recently re-discovered how many squats and calf lifts I can do while conditioning my hair in the shower. I've wasted precious time just standing there, and hope to remember more often. I could jog in place while watching television, too. My schedule hasn't been conducive lately to running at the track or going to the gym, which means I have to either change my schedule or come up with more creative ways to stay fit. Because I'm 55. And I want to be 95 one day, still fit.

Households operate best when there are some routines its members can count on. This morning, 9-year-old Adam suggested we have meals at the same time, like at school. I think that's a grand idea. It will take some cooperation and some discipline, and possibly, some fussing to get people out of the kitchen because I'MFIXINGDINNERJUSTWAIT. I can remember going through a menu-phase, in which I planned out an entire month's meals at one shot, and bought everything I'd need in one trip. It was great! Why did I stop? Who knows. But maybe this year, I'll become more organized about such things.

Housework's another area I could be more organized. When we were at Discipleship Training School at the Youth With A Mission base in Lindale, Texas, my work duty EVERY DAY was to clean our two rooms and the bathroom we shared with a couple from Norway. Things never required much cleaning because I tended to them daily. I took time daily. Things aren't slovenly around here, but I can see room for improvement. (I learned a long time ago that the way to my husband's heart is not through his stomach, as the saying goes, but it is freshly vacuumed. Knowing that, I think it's the least I can do to maintain a neat home for a man who has worked so hard all his life.)

I need to drink more water. You'd think such a thing would go without saying, but most of us walk around dehydrated, with fresh, clean water available 24/7 for the vast majority of Americans. Water is such a necessary component to our physical, even mental and emotional, well-being that I'm surprised there's not more of a push by the government to educate the public on this. We know to recycle and stop smoking and do breast self-exams and not drive while intoxicated, but I'm guessing there's a mess of people who don't drink enough water every day and don't even know they should. AND I KNOW I SHOULD AND DON'T! Dumb. Dumber than dumb. I just don't remember to do it.

I have to keep fighting codependency. Getting myself wrapped up in other peoples' behaviors and emotions is my default setting. For years, after reading "Codependent No More" by Melody Beattie, and going to a family counselor, I've been working on this, and making healthy strides toward a better frame of mind. What I'd thought was being a servant, being kind, being submissive, etc. etc ad nauseum turned out to be counterproductive in some cases, even harmful. I need to let people be who they are, even if it means they make mistakes or behave badly. It's not up to me to change them, or even educate them, even if that has been an appropriate role in the past for various reasons.

For instance, I have parented my children. They're not my responsibility any longer, because they're adults. That's easy when they don't live with me, but with one resident daughter, it's been a struggle. Have. To. Let. Go. When she has been ill or otherwise unable to parent HER children, I've stepped in. Too much, perhaps. Have to find that delicate balance as the co-head of the household in such a way that I don't usurp my daughter's authority but rather, support it. At the same time, we feel there are things we should require of all who live under our roof. I walk a fine line, and don't do it anywhere near perfection, but I'm working on it. Looooong way to go, as anyone in the house could attest. I don't expect to be perfect by December 31, 2013, but I'll be very disappointed if I can't show some progress.

I need to be more disciplined in my writing. I worked best when I had an editor who expected me to turn in a column on time, with the correct word count and minimal editing needed. Committing to this blog, and especially my other one (A Poem A Day) builds in some accountability, but I haven't written much for paying markets, for no other reason than sheer laziness. There's really no excuse for that. Writers write.

Those who know me and my background best may, at this point, be thinking "When is she going to talk about her spiritual life?" Well...I'm not. As a Christian, it goes without saying that spiritual growth is an ongoing process. None of us has "arrived." None of us, from the newest believer to the celebrity preacher to the theologian with more letters at the end of his or her name than one would think possible...none...NONE...should think prayer is no longer needed, or study, or worship. The day a Christian (or, I would think, a person whose faith lies elsewhere) thinks he or she knows all there is to know about God and God's word and God's will and God's ways is a day of deception and delusion. Eternity is how long it will take to fully know God. And since it goes without saying, well, I'm not saying much.

I want to laugh more this year. Kiss more. Be silly more. Sing more loudly and dance more often. I want to make other people laugh, and cry, because I've written something that touched their hearts. I want to look in the mirror at the end of 2013 and think, "You did okay." Maybe I'll be able to do that honestly, maybe not. But one thing I know for sure, I love being alive. I love love, love's power and grace and fierceness. I'm looking forward to seeing my love affect others, and being affected by theirs. I'm excited about seeing lives change this year in a myriad of positive ways.

It's gonna be a wild ride!



(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012

It's My Birthday and I'll Write if I Want To, Write if I Want To, Write if I Want To

Somewhere in the vicinity of four in the afternoon, 55 years ago tomorrow (December 19, 1957 if you must know) I was born. I don't remember this. I don't remember feeling compelled to leave my warm dark home and venture out, squeezing through an opening in the cave wall, being pushed out (literally) kicking and screaming.

I don't remember any of it. There are months, years even, that I've lost. I was held, cooed and sung to, rocked, played with, fed, bathed. For years I received royal treatment, and I can't recall a single detail, which hardly seems fair. How many of us EVER get the royal treatment again?

My earliest memory is probably two, maybe three, a hazy impression of sitting on a high stool listening to my mother and an elderly woman. Mama knows exactly who and what that describes, but I do not.

When I was two, my mother was pregnant a third time, and was confined to bed. I don't remember that either. I played alone a lot while she desperately tried to keep the baby safe and secure within her womb, but I don't remember it. I know that as much as I love people, there are times I must be alone. I get "peopled out" and maybe this is something genetically mapped early on. I don't know. I just don't know.

When my baby brother died, I don't know if I cried or not. I grew up hearing the story, seeing the photograph of funeral flowers, seeing the photo of his still, perfectly formed shape, but I had no personal connection.

Out of 55 years, I remember close to 50 fairly well. I wonder why we're made that way? Why don't we recall every significant occurrence that has done its part to shape who and what we are? Or more accurately, who and what we are becoming. At 55, I am more finished than I was, say, at 17, but not as complete as the woman as I intend to be at 80. I know some things I want to see happen between now and then, and I don't have a clue how it will all pan out, but I'm determined to enjoy the journey.

What have I learned in 55 years? I learned how to cry early on. Turn over, crawl - pretty impressive feats, given my tender age. I learned to walk, talk, use the potty, obey my parents, play with paper dolls. I learned how to do math and use the English language. Learned to read, color inside (and outside, if I felt like it) the lines. Learned how to cook simple dishes (I haven't progressed very far from that). Learned to play a few musical instruments, the names of the states, how to braid hair, and (because I am a Southern woman and Raised Right) how to clean and sew.

I learned that people almost always do exactly what they want to do, regardless of what they say about it. That God exists and will do exactly what HE wants, regardless of how I feel about it. That love can be fierce, loss is physically painful, joy is as necessary to existence as oxygen or food. I learned that I feel loved when I am touched and when I am talked to, which makes me a cheap date, perhaps, but an appreciative one.

I learned from observing my parents and sister, relatives, friends, from reading books and listening to people. I learned a lot from sitting around a breakfast table while a bunch of cranky men talked to one another. I learned how to adapt to almost anything, and then I learned (only fairly recently) that I don't have to adapt to a damn thing unless I choose to.

I kiss well, I'm told. I could tell you other things I'm pretty good at (most of them), but I'm not genius at anything. It is one of the banes of my existence, because I always wanted to be the Best at Something, and I'm not. I could also tell you  the areas of great struggle and weakness that serve as the meat of most of my personal prayers. If you find fault with me, believe me when I say, it's no surprise. I'm already well aware of whatever fault you see, so you might as well save your breath.

In other words,  I know myself pretty well despite that annoying initial fog as a toddler. For the most part, I'm pleased with the skin I'm in (although I'd like to reduce the amount by several pounds). I'm not the girl I was, or the woman I will become, but for now, with the help of God and love and mercy and tenderness, I'm okay. Really. And thanks for asking.

On second thought, I am the Best at Something. Being me. Warts and all.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012

Apologetics

Depending on whom you ask, Christianity is either an impotent, dead religion or a frightening one. Jesus is either an anemic, namby pamby Sunday school hero with an insipid smile (“There, there, it will be alright one day.”) or an outraged avenger ready to turn to ashes everyone who sins.

The far right hasn’t done Christianity any favors in the United States. Christians have been lumped in, unmercifully, with the gay-hating, women-controlling, gun-toting racists, and I have to speak up and say: enough. Christians have enough baggage without all of that! We’re a mess, collectively, but we came by it honestly. Don’t blame us for hate or prejudice or bad fashion sense! Christians don’t hold the monopoly!

What is a Christian, bottom line? Aside from Westernization. Aside from politicization. Aside from denominationalizing. Take Christianity to its simplest terms, and what do you have? I submit to you, that you have nothing to fear at all. Nothing to hate. Nothing to despise or legislate against. Nothing to be intimidated by. Take away a Nativity scene on city property, and you only underscore the fact that it DOES mean something.

Christians started being called Christians in the 1^st century. Christians, as in “little Christs.” People who followed Jesus of Nazareth, a.k.a.  the Christ, the Son of God, the Messiah. He was, he said, God born of the flesh. He performed miracles. He taught tolerance, forgiveness, love, service, outreach. Scary, eh? Only to those who want to be intolerant, hateful, selfish, and exclusive.

Jesus taught that belief wasn’t enough. He asked people to follow. It wasn’t enough to think he had good ideas, not enough to acknowledge that he knew what he was talking about. Not enough to say he was a prophet or a good teacher. Put it in practice. Give the words your hands and feet and mouth. Anyone can say they believe, but will they follow? Historically, only a small percentage do. And they do it horribly. I say this from experience.

The problem with religion, any religion, is that the name and the practice can be far removed, but constantly united in perception. You’re a Buddhist, and I know what Buddha taught. If you say you’re a Buddhist, I may decide you’re a bad one, if you don’t adhere perfectly to Buddha’s teachings…or I may make the leap so many make and decide that Buddhism’s bad because YOU are.

That old saying, that bumper sticker of a saying, is actually true:  Christians aren’t perfect, they’re just forgiven. Forgiveness is the crux of the matter. Christians believe that Jesus Christ, perfect man and God-made-flesh, died in place of all others, past, present, future. God bled for our collective sins, thus perfectly paying the penalty. We believe that, and rejoice that when we sin (which we do, all of us, with alarming regularity and varying degree) we have an advocate with the Father, the Creator form of God, the punisher. When we sin, Jesus steps up and says, “Wait…I already paid the penalty for that, remember?” and our lives are spared, eternally-speaking.

It’s not a license to sin, but when we do, we believe that there is forgiveness available. And because we have this wonderful news that we can be reconciled to God, that we don’t have to feel guilty and miserable in our wrong-doing any longer, we like to talk about it.

Which would be great, if that’s all we talked about. Unfortunately, over the years, Christians have become more comfortable butting into everyone’s business. It’s not enough to try and manage my own sexual temptations – I need to address yours! It’s not good enough to simply try and follow the teachings of Jesus; I need to tell you what is wrong with your life instead!

And so, there is a misconception, which is the fault of Christians, in my opinion. It’s unavoidable, given that every Christian is a sinful, wretched excuse for humanity living in a world of other non-Christian sinful, wretched excuses for humanity. People need the true message of Christ, the reconciliation available by simple belief and commitment. But the message has deteriorated into something different.

Biblically, Christians will be increasingly despised, until people will actually think they are doing God’s will to kill Christians (John 16:2), substantially more serious that prohibiting prayer at school or nativity scenes at Christmas. Hopefully we’re a few centuries away from that, but if we think, even for one moment, that it can’t happen? That it won’t happen? The only way to put off such a mindset would be a return to the basic teachings of the Gospel. Forget the Tea Party. Forget Pat Robertson. Forget misogynist racists who wouldn’t recognize an act of grace and mercy if it sat on their faces.

Jesus. He was either who he said he was, or he was a scam artist. There’s no middle ground. If you don’t believe, but seek real Truth, have the backbone to dig deeper. If he’s God, follow him. If he isn’t, find someone else who shares the same decency and holiness he preached. Stop the hatred and intolerance. For God’s sake. And your own.

(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012

Permission to reprint with acknowledgment of source.

Value

I was at a large Orlando mall over the weekend, the kind that has top end stores catering to the wealthy, or at least to those who behave as though they are. People like me can often find affordable bargains when there's a good sale in such stores, or discover small items that stay in the single or double digit price range. But then there are the $500 shoes, the $250 purses.

I know, I know. I am underscoring my middle-classedness by regarding these as outrageously expensive. At the top of the food chain, there are folks who might turn up their noses at such prices as proof of lower quality. For them, it's the Christian Louboutins for $6k or nothing.

As if.

Maybe at some point it is relative... you make $100,000 a year, and buy more expensive gifts but still at about the same percentage as someone who makes $30,000. I don't know. All I know is that this year, Christmas will be on a diet.

Which brings me back to the question of pricey items. Are shoes that cost more than I will make substitute teaching this year that much more comfortable? I think not. Comfort is probably a low priority when you slip on a pair of  high-dollar stilettos. It's all about the designer... but if your friends don't recognize Louboutins as Louboutins, the magic is lost.

A friend of mine recently attended an event in North Dakota, where the Bakkan oil fields have turned hand-to-mouth farmers into overnight upper class elite. $65,000 a month for oil rights. My friend said he happened to talk to the local Chevy dealer and commented that he bet the guy was selling a lot of new trucks. "Mostly Corvettes," the man replied. "We're the national top seller."

A few years ago, buying a new truck would be a big deal to folks who now have to have, have to drive, sportscars. Hmmm.

There was a vendor selling pocket knives. Diamond-studded pocket knives. Thousands of dollars for something that not only no one needs, but can hardly be used for the purpose for which it was manufactured. Pocket knives cut things, whittle, open things, peel apples, for heaven's sake. Would you risk popping off a diamond to cut a good stick for marshmallow roast? Who even wants one? People who have so much money all of a sudden that they feel they have to spend it. Novelty items. It's just money. Well, how about saving it? Or giving some away? Helping someone out?

Obviously, if you've made a lot of money, it's yours to do with as you please. Not my place to judge or question, but I do wonder if getting rich quick tends to tinker with one's sense of value. Value is, in a nutshell, what someone's willing to pay for something. It may be worth a million dollars to one person, not a thin dime to another. Value is subjective. You might spend $3000 for a pair of shoes or for a fancy pocket knife. I'd rather find something more in the $20 range ... or better yet, someone's cast-off $20 shoes at Goodwill for $3.99. Or at a yard sale for a buck.

I heard a teacher speak of human life one time, saying that God values us so much that the death of Jesus in our collective place was the only fitting ransom. A person will give his or her life to save a loved one, perhaps... not so quickly for a stranger, unless we're talking true heroism. To save the life of a scoundrel? A murderer? Our enemy? The world's better off without them! But we are all scoundrels to one degree or another, and yet highly valued by our Creator. He wasted Jesus's life on us, and yet it wasn't a waste at all, not in his eyes. He values us that much.

What we value, we sacrifice for. Countries that value education pay teachers better than those that do not. That just makes sense. People who value freedom appreciate those who fight for it, or they enlist themselves.

Which fits today, because this is Veteran's Day. I have brothers-in-law who are veterans, my father and father-in-law, a daughter, loved ones, friends and neighbors, all veterans. I am so thankful that they are recipients of honor on Veteran's Day and not Memorial Day. So thankful they survived their time as Marines or in the Army, Navy, Air Force, so thankful for their choice to serve our country. I value their commitment and I value them. Our nation values the military, and should, for without it we wouldn't have a nation to begin with.

I've gone all over the place, Christmas shopping and whining about overpriced trinkets and Jesus and veterans, but so what? That's the point of a blog called "For What it's Worth"... to some, these rambling words aren't worth much and to others, they are. All a matter of perspective. A matter of what you happen to value, but I'd leave you with this thought:  Who loves you so much that no distance is too far to travel to be with you, that any time away from you is too long? Who would die for you, but even more than that, who would live for you?

In other words, who values you? To whom are you a precious treasure? And who is a precious treasure to you? Have you told them lately? That's so much more important than finding the right gift for them at the mall, at any price.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012

Mulling an Important Decision

An abysmally late blog, but then again, I've kept up the poem-a-day-thing (www.ellenpoems.blogspot.com) so let's cut me some slack! It's also been a hellacious month in many ways, but no need to get into all that.

November 6 approacheth, and any opinionated person worth his or her weight in goose down is weighing in. We've got Republicans stuck in offensive mode, apparently unable to speak without saying something ridiculous like "legitimate rape" or "God intended the rape" or "retards." The Vice President got criticized for sarcasm and the President let the word "bullshit" escape during a Rolling Stones interview. Little ole Fort Pierce is now on the political map as the home of Scott van Duzer, he of the presidential bear hug, with unbelievably vile criticism for being an outgoing, friendly guy.

We've seen horrible ads, sleazy ads, immature ads, downright inaccurate ads. According to who you read or listen to, every Democrat is a liberal idiot who wants to hamstring businesses in order to feed lazy poor people who should be out there working instead of making more babies for the express purpose of extorting additional state money. Every Republican is a lobotomized misogynist (even the females!) who wants to obliterate freedom of thought and require women to have at least two babies before they think about a career.

Wrong on all counts.

Which is why I'm now a registered Independent who is trying to weigh all the promises, debates, opinions, commentators, wisdom, factcheckers, and gut feelings to come up with a reason to vote for whoever-I-vote-for in a few weeks, unless I opt for early voting and get it over with sooner.

Everyone has pet issues. For some, it's Social Security and Medicare. For others, it's the military.

Years ago, my husband and I took temperament tests, which has nothing to do with the election, but bear with me. The basic temperaments are Sanguine, Choleric, Melancholic, and Phlegmatic. It's more complex than this, but the nutshell version is:
     Sanguine - outgoing, friendly, sociable, pleasure-seeking
     Choleric - energetic, edgy, motivated, ambitious, leader-like
     Melancholic - introverted, thoughtful
     Phlegmatic - quiet, easy-going

My scores were fairly even among the first three temperaments, almost non-existent with the fourth. I can be quiet, and I can be easy-going, but phlegmatic is not my natural bent. My husband, on the other hand, scored almost totally phlegmatic, with very low scores for the other three temperaments. Opposites, in other words. (And who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?)

Why this story applies to the election: my issues are broad. I'm not primarily concerned about just one or two, but the ones I consider "key" I feel very strongly about.

Life. I think life is important, that God breathes life into us for a purpose. As a woman I don't want anyone telling me whether or not I have the right to become pregnant. As a mother and grandmother, I don't want anyone counseling my granddaughter (or yours) about having an abortion without a parent or guardian present. I don't want fellow women getting partial advice or incorrect advice or submitting to a procedure under less-than-sterile conditions. I think abortion should be regulated, if it is to continue, so that a surgical procedure isn't allowed to be performed by people without proper training under unregulated conditions. If the health and life of the fetus is legally ignored, that's one thing. Giving the abortion industry free rein in the name of "choice" isn't giving enough importance to the lives of women in crisis. And I've mellowed somewhat, over the years. I understand that women can be in difficult situations in which they truly believe abortion is the only answer. I get that. I don't agree, necessarily, but I'm guilty of my own particular sins and have no fingers left to point at them in blame. Plus, the majority of the country apparently wants legalized abortion....so if it's going to be legal, it should be safe, with parental consent, and with full disclosure of possible consequences to the mother just like with any other surgical procedure. Abortion shouldn't be glossed over - there's no invasiveness to an ultrasound, no violation of civil rights to give complete information before a woman decides. And absolutely, if a minor is pregnant, she's not equipped to make such a monumental, potentially life-changing decision on her own.

Both presidential candidates are playing the moderate game as election day draws near, but Mitt Romney seems to be more consistently anti-abortion, while Barak Obama seems to be more consistently pro-abortion. Note that I avoided the usual labels of "pro-life" and "pro-choice" by design. Too often pro-lifers forget about the life of the mothers, and too often pro-choicers are only interested in the choice they themselves would make in the same circumstances. There needs to be a willingness to meet somewhere in the middle, and both candidates hold out a glimmer of hope here.

Call me a religious nut case, but I believe the Bible as far as Israel's eternal destiny. I believe that God did choose the Jewish people for a purpose, that Israel is a vital, integral part to the future of mankind. Do I understand it all? Do I think Israel is always right? Of course not. But in God's government, and seen throughout man's history, a nation's relationship with the nation of Israel is important. It still is. From an entirely secular standpoint, Israel deserves our support because of its strategic position, geographically, in the Middle East; for its democracy; for its history - we must remember the Holocaust and make sure it doesn't happen again. From a Christian standpoint, our "religion" (it isn't a religion at all, actually, but a relationship) is grafted onto the root of Judaism, and we are, therefore, or should be, forever in allegiance from that perspective.

In the final presidential debate, Obama spoke out in support of Israel, but it may be, for voters, too little too late. His alleged snubbing of Israel's Prime Minister Netanyahu recently, coupled with a record of Muslim-leaning rhetoric is disturbing. On the other hand, Romney's Mormon beliefs are so far from the majority of the American peoples' that concern is justified in that camp as well.

Romney's military stance seems stronger to me than Obama's. He has run businesses and a state.

Obama has a more even temperament, and seems more approachable.

Both men, I believe, are sincere in their desire to lead the United States into economic recovery, military strength, physical health, and educational excellence. The fact that President Obama was sincere about all these things four years ago, and hasn't delivered on much, is a big concern. The fact that Mitt Romney waffles and hasn't laid out a finite plan is a big concern as well.

I guess I've got to think about it some more, but time is limited. I've been told, by people who have no faith (or think they don't - but that's the subject of another essay) that they envy my faith and wish they shared my confidence in divinity, in absolutes. I hear people speak and see posts on Facebook that imply many of the people I know are just as certain of either Obama or Romney. I envy their certainty. I just don't share it.

Headline: Woman Takes On the New York Times, Has No Effect Whatsoever

For what it's worth...the name of my blog...means just that. This blog and a dollar will get you an ice cream cone at McDonald's (if their machine isn't down). But it's my opinion, and it's worth it to me to think and stew and vent and organize my thoughts, regardless:

In his September 17 op-ed piece for the New York Times, columnist David Brooks points the finger at Republican nominee Mitt Romney for being out of touch with the true conditions of the nation. Forty-seven percent of the country, he quotes Romney as saying, are people “who are dependent upon government, who believe they are victims, who believe the government has a responsibility to take care of them, who believe they are entitled to health care, to food, to housing, to you name it.”

He goes on with this comment:

Romney knows nothing about ambition and motivation. The formula he sketches is this: People who are forced to make it on their own have drive. People who receive benefits have dependency. But, of course, no middle-class parent acts as if this is true. Middle-class parents don’t deprive their children of benefits so they can learn to struggle on their own. They shower benefits on their children to give them more opportunities — so they can play travel sports, go on foreign trips and develop more skills. People are motivated when they feel competent. They are motivated when they have more opportunities. Ambition is fired by possibility, not by deprivation, as a tour through the world’s poorest regions makes clear.

Therein lies the problem. Romney thinks that forty-seven percent of the country believed they are entitled. Brooks thinks that entitlements are a necessity. I disagree with both.

I would estimate closer to 100% of Americans feel entitled in some form or another. Other people have things; so should we. Other people get the best medical care available; so should we. Why shouldn’t I have my own home – I can’t afford it, but that’s not really fair! I pay taxes! I demand my road get fixed today, or the cops come whenever I snap my fingers (whether or not my taxes pay them well or not).

I don’t like Romney. I may not vote for him. I don’t trust him, and there has been an epidemic of really stupid comments by Republicans going viral. (I don’t trust President Obama either, however.) But Romney is correct, I believe, that people who receive benefits have, by way of human nature (not by way of being Americans or on welfare or for any other reason), a tendency toward dependency, or at least codependency.

Let’s say that someone shows up at the door every morning and hands you $100. Not as a payment for anything you’ve done, it’s just what he wants to do. At first you’re surprised, excited, grateful. After awhile, however, you start expecting it. You did nothing to earn it, but hey, if the guy wants to pay you $100 every morning, who are you to complain? You notice that everyone else on the street is getting the same benefit. Good for them!

Then one day the guy doesn’t come. WTF? You haven’t earned it, but now you feel entitled, especially when you see him at the next-door neighbor’s. If the guy suddenly starts going only to certain houses…or no houses…he’d better stop showing his face anywhere near the neighborhood!

You became, quite gradually and through no real fault of your own, dependent. You started spending the next day’s Ben Franklin before it actually arrived. Your expectations drove your plans. No, can’t afford it today, but tomorrow, I’ll get paid and…

You overspend. You don’t save. You don’t question why you’re getting it or how long it will last. You depend on the kindness of a stranger, and you are trapped. He now controls your emotions and behavior.  The only way you’ll stop depending on him, in truth, is if he stops coming around. Eventually you realize you’ll need to adjust your lifestyle, your way of thinking.

It’s a poor, limited analogy. But as a family counselor has mentioned to me, he’s never seen such an entitled generation as he sees in today’s young adult population. They were raised—the ones he has observed, anyway –by those middle class parents Brooks celebrates. They just wanted to give their kids as much as they could, give them more than they had growing up. And it has come back to bite them, big time.

There are millions of grandparents raising grandchildren, for example, and the initial response by most people, myself included, is Thank God for the grandparents! Where would those poor kids be without them? Unfortunately, the cycle, once set in motion, replicates itself. Unless steps are taken to prevent it, children are raised thinking this is the norm, becoming irresponsible parents one day themselves, because that is what parents do.

As a nation, I fear that we have become those children, coddled and protected, benefitted en masse when times were good, and now demanding the same benefits during tough times. Those who lived through the Great Depression learned much more from their suffering, I hate to say, than we who have had so very much.

I have seen firsthand, in our own family, what “helping” someone financially can do, and it isn’t pretty. Rather than see a loved one “do without” we have jumped in, only to have the help backfire to a devastating degree. I have tried to “help” someone with visible, valid needs only to realize—hopefully not too late!—that I had actually prevented that person from truly growing up, stepping up to the plate, learning the important lessons of life.

It’s natural for parents and grandparents and governments to want their “dependents” (and there’s a reason we call them that!) to be happy, well-fed, nicely clothed. But the writers of the Declaration of Independence were on to something: We hold these truths to be self-evident. That all men are created, that they are endowed BY THEIR CREATOR with certain inalienable rights, that among these rights are life,  liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Pursuit implies work. Diligence. Self-motivation. Unfortunately, many Americans seem to think that happiness is owed them. That government, by supplying their everyday needs, will press a button or wave a magic wand at some point and happiness will knock on their door. It just doesn’t happen that way. Romney doesn’t get it, but neither does Brooks.

For what it's worth.

(C) Ellen Gillette, 2012

Rambling about Tough Times

A friend of mine is going through a tough time, but says that it is a good thing. Painful, but good. I could elaborate and compare this whatever-it-is phase with necessary surgery, but I won't. Surgery implies that something is wrong with the body and surgery is needed to correct it. Sometimes we go through tough times when there doesn't seem to be any "need" for it. It just happens.

Many, many years ago I ran into the back of a car. I had kids with me, but I was going so slowly that there was no damage to the other vehicle, and only slight damage to my own. Still, it was unsettling.

Later in the day, I was on the phone with our minister. I told him about the fender-bender and his first response was so typical of many people of faith: "What is the Lord trying to teach you?"

I probably mumbled something spiritual-sounding or fortuitously heard a child in the background requiring my assistance. What I WISH that I had said was: "I think he was trying to teach me to keep my eyes on the freakin' road." Or words to that effect.

Maybe you didn't get bombarded with this, in your early formative years, spiritually speaking. For whatever reason, it seems like there always needed to be "a reason," or "a lesson." Tough times were either because (A) God was teaching you something, (B) Satan was attacking you, or (C) you blew it and needed punishment. Or (D) "We  live in a fallen world, and there will be bad things happening."

Conversely, any alleged miracle/healing/blessing was proof of (A) God's smiling down from heaven in benevolent grace just because he wanted to, (B) Satan being defeated in your life, or (C) your spiritual maturity. Or (D) "I've read the back of the Book and we win!"

The problem with this line of thinking, this tidy cause-and-effect box we try to put God, ourselves, and Everything That Happens into...well, there are lots of problems with it.

There are lesson to be learned at all times. When bad things happen, when good things happen. The lesson isn't in the thing, but in our response to the thing. The sun comes out, the birdies start to chirp, and one of us sings along, while another is complaining about the heat and waiting for an eyeful of bird shit.

Something bad happens, and we can either expect things to improve at some point, or use it as confirmation that our lives suck. Something good happens, and we can either rejoice, or put on our Eeyore mask and talk about how temporary it is.

These are not principles just for Christians, obviously. Positive people may or may not attribute their overall cheerful natures to a divine source of any kind. Being positive works for the Muslim or Hindu or tree-hugger, just like tithing does. There are plenty of odious characters who reap financial benefits by giving generously to those in need, who may or may not even know that they are obeying a biblical mandate. God is bigger than that. His blessings are for "anyone who will" as the scripture says.

My friend said that this current phase is difficult to understand or explain. I can relate. On the one hand, there are negative things in my life pressing in on all sides. Why are they happening? "Woe is me" (or more grammatically correct, "Woe is I"!). What can I glean from them? How should I respond? Am I part of the problem or part of the solution?

On the other hand, another area of my life is so overwhelmingly positive that just thinking about the grace and joy makes the other parts tolerable. And again, hard to understand or explain. I didn't do anything to "deserve" the happy parts of my life. But some of the same questions apply: How will I respond? How can I protect and nurture this, so that I don't take its blessings for granted? When we treat sacred things as common, we miss so much.

I'm rambling, I know. All of life is, in a sense, sacred. We aren't alive because of anything we did or didn't do, but because the Giver of Life breathed it into us and has chosen, for his purposes and plans, not to withdraw it just yet. So every moment has some of that divine spark, whether it is "painful for the moment" as Paul wrote concerning discipline, or a "cup (that) overflows" as the psalmist wrote of life's blessing.

When all that we're experiencing is low, dark, difficult, it is hard to remember that joy exists. I know this well. And when all that we're experiencing is the top of the mountain, yippee!, success, happiness, we can forget that those valleys are very real. The person next to you may be in the valley - don't try to sing songs to cheer him up, but acknowledge his pain and remind him that it will pass, in time. The person next to you may be on the mountain - don't try to bring him down to the "real world" just because you're having a bad day.

To sum it up - I really do have that "make things tidy" mentality, I'm afraid - let yourself be. Let others be. Circumstances will be all over the place, up, down, sideways, highs, lows. Underneath all of the circumstances is a place of peace. A depth of ocean unrippled by the surface winds.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012  Permission to use with acknowledgement of source.