Glitter

Yesterday when I was waiting in line at the airport, there was a family behind me with a very worrisome mom, dad, and two grown-up kids. There was also a younger boy, about 10 or 11, in this family. The parents and two grown-ups were worrying about everything imaginable. And then the little boy chimed in. To which one of his older brothers said, "YOU don't need to worry about anything."

And I thought, "How could he not worry? He probably doesn't know any differently."

OK. So maybe I shouldn't be making snap judgements about people I don't know. People are different when they travel. Grumpier. More impatient. More worrisome. Maybe they are perfectly pleasant people under non-travel conditions.

But the fact of the matter is, our attitudes do spread to those around us. Just like glitter. You can not open a Christmas card that has glitter on it and not find it all over yourself. As Demetri Martin says "Glitter is the herpes of craft supplies." It is impossible to use glitter and not have it spread. (Which is why I hate glitter.)

And in much the same way, it seems to be impossible not to spread a bad attitude. Especially when travelling. Good attitudes can spread, too, although they're not nearly as contagious.

So the question is, what kind of attitude are you spreading? And how aware are you of the glitter all over your clothes and face when someone around you can't seem to find anything good to say?

How to Get Just the Right Number of Blog Views

I've been seeing a lot of how-to's lately about posting blogs, tweets, and Facebook statuses so that they'll get a lot of reads. There's info about the length, the frequency, the content, and more.

And I haven't applied any of it. Here's why. I blog to process things I've been thinking about. Yes, I enjoy when people post comments, and I watch my stats to see what's getting the most views, but that doesn't mean I'm going to change the way I blog to get more views. Then blogging wouldn't be fun anymore. I post on Facebook to express myself and what's important to me. If you don't care about my dogs, then don't read my status updates. That's fine. I like to post the cute things they do because it's important to me.

So, if you blog, tweet, or Facebook for the simple joy of having a place to be YOU, here's MY how-to article: How to get just the right number of blog views. As in...whatever number it happens to be...1 or 1,000. Even if that 1 is you.

Write about what you want to write about. It's your blog/Twitter/Facebook page. Do what you want to do.

Don't make apologies. Or do. It's your space, you can post to it however you want. Don't feel the need to start off your blog with an apology if you haven't written in a week or two. It's really OK. You know why? Because it's YOUR BLOG. Then again, you can apologize if you want to. If that floats your boat, do it. It's your blog. Don't let me tell you what not to write.

Don't worry about what other people think. I wouldn't go around insulting people or whining about your place of employment (they may just see it), but short of that, let go of trying to impress people. if you're posting for your own fulfillment, express yourself, your opinions, and your life however you want. So what if people disagree? It's not their blog.

Know the purpose of your blog. Is it just random musings like mine? A chronicle of your child's development? A record of different recipes or craft ideas you've tried? A mix of all of the above, and anything else that's in your head? As long as the purpose isn't to market a business or make money, keep on doing what you're doing. (And if it is for marketing or money-making, then read one of the many other how-to articles I don't care about.)

Don't follow the rules. Want to post 10 blogs in one day? Go for it. A blog every month? Up to you. Want to post 20 Facebook statuses in a row that are all different nicknames you call your dog? That's fine. You might not earn a lot of likes or comments, but who cares? If you've shared something you want to share, that's great!

Maybe it's just me, but I don't think personal social media needs to be about marketing yourself. I think it's about expressing yourself in a way you might not be able to do in real life settings. Because in real life you need to have conversations, let others have input, and maybe not list 20 nicknames for your dog. But online, you can just proclaim who you are. So do it.

First Place

As some of my recent blogs indicate, I've been feeling convicted recently about my sense of entitlement. Back around Easter time I blogged about an Easter egg hunt at work where each staff member got an egg. I hadn't known there was going to be any kind of Easter gift, so opening up my egg full of chocolates was a delightful surprise...until I discovered others got cash. Then that ugly part of me came out where I thought, "HEY! That's not fair! Why didn't I get cash?" All of a sudden this bonus candy I hadn't even been expecting wasn't enough. I wanted more.

And I've noticed that tends to be my problem. I'm perfectly content and grateful with what I have, until I see someone else with something better. And then I feel like it's not fair. Like I should get that thing, too. It happens over and over again.

I see myself pushing to be first. First out of my chair at the December staff meeting where we have a free-for-all over gift card categories. (I sat on the edge of a row so I could be first.) First to sign up for a sub-committee of our Community Service Awards team so I can get what I want. Even when I'm giving money to charity I'm selfish and entitled!

So yesterday as I drove to work, knowing we were having some kind of mystery Christmas outing, I prayed that God would help me to reflect his love and humility. I prayed that I wouldn't have that sense of entitlement. That if there was any kind of raffle or silly prizes, I wouldn't expect anything or covet anyone who won something better than me. I vowed to go last if there was anything good to line up for.

And what do you know, God was preparing my heart for a truly selfless outing. There was no "party" as such (though we did go to lunch after), no gifts, no raffle. We split up into teams and went to various non-profits to do charity work. My team went to sort clothes for Homeless Gear. And as I sorted clothes and thought about how even that thick warm blanket I just folded offered little protection on a bitter cold night, I felt a little bit of my entitlement chipping away. I am so blessed. My dogs have more clothes than some of these people. My dogs. How could I ever dare complain that someone else got an Easter egg with $10 in it?

Jesus said that he didn't come to be served, but to serve. The king of the universe came to serve. The king of the universe said if we really want to be first, we should make ourselves last.

So I'm going to try to keep my vow from Monday morning. When there's a cool bonus gift to line up for, I'm going to let others go first. Because I'd rather be first in the kingdom of heaven than get $10 in a plastic egg.

Come Define Me

"I'm an already but not yet resurrected fallen man
Come break this limbo.

I know you know just who I've been,

Come define me."

- Switchfoot

We all define ourselves some way. And I've been realizing lately that I define myself a lot more by other people than by God. I struggle with feeling whether or not people really care about me. Not strangers or acquaintances, but people I care about. Am I worth their time? Do they see me as "worth it"? Do they see past my masks to the person I am on the inside - and do they like what they see?

It's not a new thing. I'm realizing I've let guys define me for a long time. And friendships. And my job. It goes back quite far, actually. In the summer before 6th grade I made a survey to ask people whether or not they liked me, and why. And I made adjustments accordingly. Talk about letting people define you!

And even when the opinions are good, like when I've gotten some encouragement at work this week, it's not good to let those things define me.

But when I read verses like "he is slow to anger, abounding in love," my heart skips a beat. Or "I will never leave you." I leap a little inside. Even if everyone in my life abandons me, God won't. He just won't. Even if everyone in my life is angry with me, God's love abounds. No matter what other people think of me, God thinks I'm worth it. He sees past all my masks and thinks I'm beautiful. That's what I want to define me.

"I want to hear you say
Who I am is quite enough

I want to be worthy of love, and beautiful."

- Bethany Dillon

Overcome

Sometimes I have days where I feel so overcome by the brokenness of the world that I don't even want to get out of bed. And not even in a noble way, like about the starving kids in Africa or human trafficking in the middle east. I mean the brokenness that directly impacts me. Hurtful words and thoughts directed toward me. Gossip. Judgment. And the brokenness within me. Hurtful words and thoughts I have directed towards others. Dumb, little things I've done that I can't undo. And the losses this world brings. All these things sometimes strike me all at once in a way that paralyze my day.

I had such a day yesterday. And then this morning I read this verse: "For everyone born of God overcomes the world. This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith" (1 John 5:4).

I knew Jesus said he'd overcome the world. But that didn't mean it didn't still feel like it was overcoming me. But I hadn't put this verse to memory, and it took me by surprise. I've overcome the world? Even on the days when I feel overcome by it? I have victory through faith?

I don't know if this verse will be enough for me to overcome today. But I'm gonna try, one step of faith at a time.

Happy Holidays

I'm tired of hearing Christians whine year after year about how some stores won't say Merry Christmas, and radio stations don't play enough Jesus-related Christmas music.

When did we ever get the idea that America was supposed to cater to our faith? There are countries where people can't even type "Jesus" in an email, and yet our freedom to worship as we choose here isn't enough to make us grateful. We think have to have the entire country celebrate it our way, too.

People say this was a Christian country, and we've gotten away from that. Is my Rhode Island education that bad, or did the colonists NOT come here for religious freedom? Because I'm pretty sure that from the get-go freedom of religion was at least the idea our country was founded on. (Now in practice, that wasn't necessarily the case - like when they put people in stocks for not going to church...) Sure, Christian morals came into play in defining the laws that govern our country. But I don't think our founding fathers would be upset to see that America is a place where people are free to follow whatever form of religion they desire. And if they would be upset, they are hypocrites.

We have an entire month (and then some) of radio stations playing songs about Jesus. No, not all the songs are about Jesus. But the fact that any are is amazing. When was the last time you heard a Hanukkah, Kwanza, or Ramadan song playing on the radio? Secularized or not? But who do you hear whining? Not the Jews, not the Africans, not the Muslims...the Christians. The ones who pretty much own the December airwaves.

Since when does your ability to worship Jesus at Christmas depend on a cashier at Target saying "Merry Christmas" instead of "Happy Holidays"? (And by the way, holidays comes from "holy days," so it is recognizing Christmas. It's just not recognizing Christmas exclusively.) Since when is your ability to celebrate impeded by someone calling their tree a "holiday tree"?

People in other countries die for their faith. And we complain about Santa songs infringing on our Christianity. Meanwhile, how often do we take advantage of the privileges we do have? To open our Bibles and read them any time we want? To tell other people why we celebrate Christmas? I know I don't do it as often as I ought.

Shame on us spoiled, self-centered American Christians.

Dreams Come True

In college I drove a white 1992 LeBaron. It was a total grandma car. And the hood latch was broken, so if I had to open the hood to check my oil I either needed a friend to hold the latch while I pulled the lever, or I needed to get the long stick out of my trunk, prop it just right under the latch, then pull the lever. I looked cool.

During my internship, the father of the family I was living with asked me: "What's your dream car?"

Without even pausing I said, "A '92 LeBaron."

OK, so I was kinda kidding. But kind of not. It had been a blessing that I'd gotten a car to drive out to Wisconsin for my internship, and I was thankful I had it.

I'd like to have that kind of attitude about everything God has given me. Rather than dreaming of what could be, I'd like to consider each blessing from God a dream come true. My dream home? A cheap town home to rent. (Truly though, I think my town home is great!)

I think constantly dreaming about bigger and better things leads to a life of discontent. You never have enough. But if you consider what you have to be a dream come true, whether it's a '92 LeBaron with a broken hood latch or not, you'll be happier.