conflict resolution – Carpe Diem

Ask Siri Anything – He Is A Handy Guy

We live in a different world than the one in which I grew up. I’m not complaining. I can’t remember a time that we didn’t have hot water and indoor plumbing. With those two amenities in place, I can make-do with almost everything else. I can cook outside on a grill, but the water hose doesn’t spray hot water unless it is a hundred degrees outside and you’ve just turned on the faucet. Even then, the hot water doesn’t stay hot very long.

The thing that most amazes me is the ready access available to retrieve information. Even little kids have the wherewithal to know how to do it. Last week when the General was at Craig’s, she opted to supervise Jake as he did his math homework. Jake is in the second grade. The math problem he struggled with was subtracting 109 from 200. The concept of borrowing a number from the column to the left was alien to him. Either than or subtracting from the “0” in the first column was confusing for him.

The General effortlessly explained the process to him and came up with the answer of “91”. Jake’s immediate response was, “I’m sorry Gram, but that’s not the right answer.” Bless his heart! He hasn’t yet learned the life lesson that never under any circumstances do you tell the General that she’s wrong. I can promise you that she’ll prove that she’s right and painstakingly invest the time and patience to ensure that you have an accurate and detailed understanding of how the “cow ate the cabbage”, so to speak.

Jake’s a smart kid. He didn’t have time for all of that. Once he had mistakenly determined for himself that the General wasn’t a mathematician, he opted to look elsewhere for answers. Despite the General’s insistence that he pay close attention while she explained the process of finding the answer one more time, he said: “That’s okay. I’ll get the answer somewhere else.” With that he hurriedly left the room. What I’d have given to see the look on the General’s face? Just the thought puts a smile on mine.

The General said Jake came back a moment or two later with a sheepish grin on his face. He said: “Gram, you are right. I checked with Siri and he also told me the answer was 91.” Go figure! How many 7-year-olds consult Siri for answers to their math homework?

Truthfully, I don’t remember struggling with math until I got to algebra. I can add, subtract, multiply and divide. What else do I really need know? Reportedly, “Elementary algebra is generally considered to be essential for any study of mathematics, science, or engineering, as well as such applications as medicine and economics”.

With that as a given, why was I required to take algebra in college? I knew long before that age that a career track in mathematics, science or engineering had absolutely no interest for me. So why did I need college algebra? For that matter, why did I need physics? Trust me, my GPA would have been higher had I foregone the trouble of adding math and science.

You don’t need any of that to be a stand-up comic, English major, social worker, or work in any other profession that pays almost nothing for the investment of your time. The way I see it, mathematics, science and engineering require left brain function and for the most part mine got left out. On the bright side, I’m generally in my right mind and I’m socially connected. What else do I really need?

I’m ten times as old as Jake and I’m just now learning the advantage of keeping Siri close at hand. When I’m traveling, sometimes all it takes is one word: “Restaurant”. Un seconds Siri thoughtfully provides me a list of restaurants in close proximity to my location. Sometimes I ask for a specific restaurant and he pleasantly reports back: “I’ve found______(name of restaurant). Shall I call them for you or do you want directions?” I always opt for the directions.

At the age of 7 or 70, I’d never have thought of asking Siri for the answer to more complex problems. Jake is way ahead of the game having Siri as a tutorial resource to find answers. Like I said, he’s a smart kid.

Out of curiosity, I thought I’d broaden my boundaries. Yesterday I asked Siri some tough questions. Why not explore different dimensions in which Siri could be helpful? Consequently I asked: “How can I win a disagreement with my wife?” I expected a thoughtful response similar to: “You can’t win a disagreement with your wife. She is smarter than you and very competitive. She’ll never let you win. Don’t even try.”

Surprisingly and somewhat disappointingly, Siri gave me resources instead of a verbal response. Siri sent me the following written message: “Here’s what I found on the web for “How do I win a disagreement with my wife?”

A link to: “How to Resolve an Argument with Your Mate Every Time”
A link to: “How to win every argument with your wife-Pathos”
A link to: How to win every argument with your wife – All Pro Dad”
A link to: “3 ways to win every disagreement in your marriage”
A link to: “Learn how to win your wife back”

Okay, so what other puzzle could I pose for Siri to solve for me? I had an easy problem. I asked “What do most married couples fight about?” I expected “money” to be the answer. Instead, Siri provided the following response: “Hope these are the butter flavoring you want for your popcorn. That statement was followed by a listing of movies.” Obviously, Siri is one up on me. Thanks to Jake, now I know a handy resource to find out information on anything.

All My Best!

Don

Humpty Dumpty Like Brokenness

Most of Saturday, I had a sense of unrest. Initially, I couldn’t define it, but it was something that I couldn’t shake. It was the recurring thought: “Perhaps, despite our hopes for the best, the humpty-dumpty like brokenness that surrounds our nation may continue to escalate rather than subside”. Often, anger and dissatisfaction take a life of their own and like sour dough bread (pardon the pun), they can be duplicated by one person sharing a “start” with another.

I went into Austin Saturday morning to make a hospital visit. When I left St. David’s Hospital, I drove south on Red River Street in the direction of downtown. Have you heard the expression: “I was at the wrong place at the right time?” Well, that was irrefutably my experience on Saturday.

It was strictly by happenstance, but I found myself on the periphery of downtown Austin when 50,000 angry women intent on participating in a protest march were making their way into downtown. Frankly, the signage and the crowds of people already on the sidewalks startled me.

As I sat at a traffic light watching people walk across the intersection in front of my car, I had the thought, “What a great day to be out for a walk! The weather was absolutely perfect. It really was a terrific day. Most of those walking were carrying signs, so I intuitively knew this wasn’t just a walk. As I looked at the crowds making their way down the sidewalks, I wondered how many would have that same fortitude if the weather had been seasonally appropriate. Who’s to say? It could well be the same number.

“Our world is on fire and man without God will never be able to put out the flames”. It has been over fifty years since Billy Graham crafted that line for the introduction to his book World Aflame, but his words have never been truer.

In the past couple of days, Dan Rather’s professionally crafted written comments concerning the inauguration and the division within our nation have circulated like wildfire and thoughtfully so. Consequently, I want to highlight the introductory paragraph because the content is such that individuals on both sides of the division will agree with the observation and accuracy. It is not my intent to comment or make value judgments related to the bent he subsequently shares in his reflections. However, his introductory paragraph is one few will find disagreeable. His observations seem sound. The rest of his diatribe is subject to dispute depending on your frame of reference and your perception. It is not my intent to either affirm or object to his analysis. Though I have thoughts of my own, I have no comment to make regarding either.

He writes: “ And so it begins – Of the nearly 20 inaugurations I can remember, there has never been one that felt like today. Not even close. Never mind the question of the small size of the crowds, or the boycott by dozens of lawmakers, or even the protest marches slated for tomorrow across the country. Those are plays upon the stage. What is truly unprecedented in my mind is the sheer magnitude of quickening heartbeats in millions of Americans, a majority of our country if the polls are to be believed, that face today buffeted within and without by the simmering ache of dread. I have never seen my country on an inauguration day so divided, so anxious, so fearful, so uncertain of its course…”

I awakened Sunday morning shortly after 2:00 a.m. The sense of unrest that I had carried with me throughout the day before was back. Only this time it was interfering with my sleep. Despite attempts to fall back to sleep, I thought about our nation. I moved from that to thinking about work related issues. I thought about the future. I thought about many things. Through it all, sleep didn’t come. All of my thoughts served to keep me awake.

I subsequently winced when the grandfather clocks in our home struck thee times and an hour later subsequently struck four times. The intermingling of all the issues, problems, divisions and assertions felt like too much for me to cognitively process, so I decided to give my mind a rest. I don’t have the wherewithal to offer a workable solution to any number of things. I hate the expression: “It is what it is”, but how do you argue with that concept? Like sour dough bread, once a starter has been handed off to another person intent on lighting the same fire, it gets out of hand. I can promise you that the smoke will at least burn your eyes, if not consume you.

Finally, it was a Scripture that I had shared last week at a memorial service that flooded my memory and provided the antidote I needed for my insomnia. It comes from the 46^th Psalm: “God is a refuge and strength, a present help in time of trouble”. What more do we need to know?

Like I said, “I don’t have the wherewithal to even know where to begin in putting all the things that are broken in our lives back together again”. Like the childhood story of Humpty-Dumpty, all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, couldn’t put Humpty-Dumpty back together again. Left to our own devices, that is an accurate assessment of our circumstances.

In the final analysis, the solution may be as simply as the words of the Psalmist in chapter 45, verse 10: “Be still, and know that I am God.” The mandate to “be still” carries with it more than simply being motionless. It carries with it the connotation of feeling relaxed, at ease, and confident of God’s presence. Being still is linked to the awareness that He is God.

All My Best!

Don

A Point Of Contention

Perception becomes reality, but that doesn’t mean it is an accurate reflection of the facts. Case in point, the General is making me a crazy person. Frankly, I hate it when I allow someone to have that kind of control over me. I should know better. I do know better. So why do I sometimes allow her or anyone else to have the upper hand?

She can be so dogmatic at times. Yesterday’s point of contention had to do with the sprinkler system in the yard. Several days ago she asked: “Why don’t you turn off the sprinkler system?” She also added that it had been raining. I responded that the sprinkler system has a rain sensor and that if it is raining, it doesn’t work. Your average layperson would have accepted that as a valid and accurate answer to her question.

Did I mention the General is above average? She didn’t care why the sprinkler system is activated even though she asked the question. She wanted it turned off! You can only imagine the reasons. She painstakingly shared all of them with me at the time she asked the question: (1) It has been raining. (2) The lawn doesn’t need to be watered during the winter. (3) We are wasting water and electricity. Correction: It was not: “We are wasting…”, it was “I was wasting water and electricity”.

I try to be accommodating. Truthfully, it wasn’t a big deal and it was absolutely not an inconvenience for me to walk out into the garage and turn the water sprinkler system off. However, I did have the thought that she too has the skill set to turn the control button to off. The General is smart. I didn’t have to share that with her. She’s already aware of her skill set. She was simply outsourcing the task to the maintenance man that works fifty-one miles away, is gone from our home ten hours a day and lives at our house when he’s not out of town.

So a couple of days later, the General pointed out that the sprinkler system was still on. How could that be? I had turned it off. I clearly remembered that I had turned it off. I would have to be off my rocker not to follow up on the General’s request (articulated or subtly indicated). I went back out to the garage to look. You could have knocked me over with a feather. The sprinkler system had not been turned off (faulty memory on my part). Eating crow, I acknowledged the error of my ways and told her the sprinkler had been turned on, but that it was now off. Actually, what really previously happened was that I opened the cover to the system and saw “OFF” reflected in the small window reflecting current status. I failed to notice that “RUN” was also selected. Consequently, when the designated times previously selected rolled around, the system would be activated.

It was almost with a tone of self-righteous indignation that she announced yesterday morning that the sprinkler system was still on. I don’t have “Stupid” calligraphically tattooed over each eyebrow with an explanation mark in the middle of my forehead. God as my witness, the sprinkler system was turned off. Even without my glasses, I could read the “off” position on the sprinkler system.

Walking into the kitchen, the General stood upright and stoically announced that both the front porch and sidewalk were covered with water. Whether she verbally added: “The water sprinkler system is not turned off” or she simply said it with her body language, it didn’t matter. Her perception was flawed, but would I ever convince her?

She had been loading the dishwasher, but I suggested she come look with me. Walking with me toward the front door, we could both see that the porch and sidewalk was wet. I threw a question loaded with, what I’m sure she processed as my “self-righteous indignation” in her direction: “So, did you actually see water spraying from any of the sprinkler system zones in the yard? She had not, but she added again that the porch and sidewalk were covered with water. Standing next to her, and pointing to the granite driveway in front of the house, I said: “Look way out there. The road appears to be wet as well.”

I am sure my smile looked like a smirk, but early yesterday morning when I went outside to the Jacuzzi, I noticed the Jacuzzi cover and the back patio were also covered with water. In fact, I remembered sitting in the hot tub with the misting rain hitting me in the face. The sprinkler system that had not been turned off was the one in the sky, not the one controlled by the control box inside our garage. The General’s perception of reality was flawed.

Truthfully, she gets it right more often than I do. Could it be that God placed me in her life to teach her patience? Who knows? If that’s my purpose, she must be a slow learner because I’ve been around for a very long time. The thing that puzzles me is her unique skill and ability to never get her feathers ruffled. My response that the source of water was from the rain rather than the sprinkler system didn’t make her a “crazy person”. In fact, I’d say the impact it carried was minimal. She stoically announces to me that the water sprinkler is still on when I know it isn’t and I get out of sorts. I point out the error of her flawed perception and it is like water running off a duck’s back. There was absolutely no reaction.

At any rate, I’m glad the “off” switch is working on the sprinkler system. My next major hurdle is getting the water pipes to outdoor faucets covered and wrapped before it becomes bitterly cold. Of course, this year, like every other, I will procrastinate until I am wrapping pipes with very cold fingers. I always consistently manage to get them wrapped before I head for the ski slopes. The very last thing that I need is for there to be a broken waterline while I’m away having fun.

Did I mention it is currently 23 degrees outside? As soon as I get this blog posted, I’m headed to the hot tub.

All My Best!

Don

Happy Holidays – Well Maybe Not

So what do you do when it is cold and wet outside? I had envisioned a different kind of weekend, yet I’m finding myself grateful. For one thing, rain is a precious commodity. Of course, when it results in flooding and loss of life, it is easy to conclude that too much of a good thing isn’t. I’m also not a fan of the cold unless I’m sitting outside in the Jacuzzi or riding on a ski lift.

Yesterday afternoon when I got home from work, I was surprised to find the General’s car gone when I opened the garage door. Somehow in my mind, she is always home. Conversely, I often am somewhere other than home and even when I’m home I don’t have a lot of down time. Somehow the spaces always get filled in with a myriad of activity.

Yesterday was different. Cold and wet was only in the forecast at that time, but as I dropped my briefcase off in my home office, I noticed “Hillbilly Elegy”, the half-read book I had promised myself I’d get back to reading. “Perfect” was the word that immediately came to mind. With book in hand, I headed toward the sun-porch. There is something visually inviting about being surrounded by windows with a clear view of outside. It is a combination of all the comforts of home with the sensation of being outdoors at the same time.

I grew up loving to read. I don’t know if I should credit my mother with that or credit my father? Mother was the one who encouraged us to read and regularly took is to the library to check out books. My dad, on the other hand, was the parent who invested an inordinate amount of time reading. He, too, loved to read. I guess you could say that mother provided us the mandate and dad led by example.

Earlier in the week, I made reference to the book: “Hillbilly Elegy”. I was mesmerized reading the first half of the book. I put the book down only because my son and his family arrived to share a portion of their Thanksgiving holiday with us. I never envisioned when I set the book aside that it would take me a week to get back to it.

There was something about the way the author vividly describes the childhood impact of living in a household where broken relationships, alcoholism, drug usage, and family conflict were constant companions that make the reader sense they are visually watching his journey. Perhaps that is the litmus test of effective writing. When you can sense the disappointment and sorrow, the broken promises and stories with unhappy endings, it has an emotional impact on the reader.

Like I’ve said, “The book is well written.” On the author’s journey from a childhood wrought with difficulty, the ingrained cultural ties of a generationally dysfunctional Appalachian family to a four-year stint in the U.S. Marine Corps, he discovered something about himself that he previously didn’t know.

He emerged from his four-year enlistment with the Marine Corps with the confidence he had the wherewithal to be successful in life. That awareness was a new dimension for him. It provided him the tools to know that he had the ability to make choices that could alter his future.

Yet, because of previous life experiences left over from childhood, he continued to have baggage that needed to be unpacked and set aside. For example, by his own admission, he had no idea how to negotiate relationship problems. He certainly didn’t want to succumb to fit throwing and screaming and duplicating the toolbox of problem solving techniques he witnessed in his family of origin. Consequently, he attempted to simply withdraw and take on the persona of a turtle hiding within his shell. That, too, proved less than effective. Fortunately, the love of his life helped him discover the technique of open and honest communication.

Most of the people I know didn’t grow up in the kind of relational quagmire or landmine that was characteristic of this man’s life. Yet, regardless of life experiences, none of us grew up in a perfect family and when it comes to relational interaction, we don’t always get it right.

The holidays are upon us and I know a host of folks who have a difficult time with holiday and familial expectations. To some degree, it gets back to family or lack of family or leftover scars associated to childhood. Some very capable adults grew up with the clear message that “they couldn’t do anything right.” Consequently, thoughts of returning homeward for the holiday and triggering those same “you can’t do anything right” messages is both frightening and overwhelming. Consequently, most simply opt out of meeting familial expectations and choose to remain at a distance from family.

I thought about it this morning before I got out of bed. Why is it so difficult for some families to lovingly and peacefully co-exist? I’m not talking about the level of dysfunction that you find on the pages of Hillbilly Elegy. I’m not talking about families where violence, alcoholism, or drugs steal from one the ability to be relationally intact. I’m talking about families who have the cognitive capacity to do it differently, but don’t.

I know so many families who on the surface seemingly have it all together, but in reality are relationally dysfunctional. Avoidance is the primary tool they use in negotiating life. They live without connection or even a desire to mend fences or invest in the hard work of problem solving. Consequently, they push the people they should love most out of their lives.

I don’t get it. I can’t begin to imagine, but it is the sad reality where many people find themselves and it doesn’t seem right for anyone in the mix. I realize that is my personal value judgment and until I’ve walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, I don’t really have the frame of reference to know what I’m talking about.

Not only did my mother encourage us to read and my dad led by example, they also both role modeled for us the importance of extended familial relationships. We had the privilege of extended family relationships that were positive and enriching. That didn’t mean that life was perfect, it wasn’t. But we grew up with the message that nothing was more important than family.

I visited this week with a friend who wishes something different for his extended family. His was a harsh childhood. Drugs and alcohol weren’t part of the mix, but emotional abuse was very much a part of his everyday childhood experience. I suspect there was also physical abuse from his step-father, but he hasn’t said. What I do know is that three children somehow emerged into very capable adults, but the deficits associated to those formative years pit one family member against the other. He sadly, but realistically says: “It is what it is”. His frame of reference is so different from anything I’ve ever experienced, that I want more for him and his siblings. Yet, I don’t have the wherewithal to wave a magic wand and say: “And they lived happily ever after.” Perhaps: “It is what it is” is as good as it can get, but somewhere in the Christmas story is the fabric for doing life differently.

All My Best!

Don

The American Way

Sometimes I feel like the little boy that cried wolf. For well over a decade there has been a concentrated effort on the part of many to eliminate children’s homes, boarding schools and other kinds of congregate care facilities from being a part of the continuum of care available to children. Those who push against the services provided by agencies like those where I work, use a broad paintbrush to denigrate and falsely portray the lifestyle and quality of care children receive.

I spent seventeen and a half years working for the State of Texas in provision of child welfare related services. Fifteen of those years were in residential childcare licensing. Until passage of the Child Care Licensing Act of 1975 (now know as Chapter 42 of the Human Resources Code), Texas did not regulate the provision of care for children over the age of fourteen. When the law increased the purview of regulation and the establishment of minimum standards governing safeguards for children up to age eighteen, they were badly needed. Without a requirement for licensure, standards that protected health, safety and wellbeing and regulation and enforcement to ensure compliance, children were in harms way and subjected to whims of the care provider.

Not everyone who gravitates toward childcare does so because of philanthropic or benevolent reasons concerning children. Probably the majority of folks have children’s best interests in mind, but without a framework or structure for the provision of children’s services, the variations are about as plentiful as the number of stars in the sky.

The licensing act mandated the State’s responsibility for protecting the health, safety and well being for children needing to live away from their families. It was a good law and provided safeguards for children.

Getting back to the little boy that cried wolf, for the past decade I’ve been saying that strategic efforts are being made by anti-congregate care advocates armed with misinformation to eliminate children being placed outside their home in any placement other than the home of a family member or foster family home. But that’s where the line is drawn. The opponents to congregate care are unyielding in disparaging assessment and paint every facility with the same broad brush.

I serve on the board of the Coalition of Residential Excellence, a national organization, located in Washington, D.C. For the past several years our organization has proactively attempted to provide a better and more accurate picture of the services and quality of care provided.

Again this year, legislation similar to that drafted in the preceding year denigrating congregate care and making accusatory allegations related to quality, was of concern to our organization. Fortunately, the law drafted last year including denigrating comments alleging that congregate care produces harm to children, did not pass.

All it takes is one law including a statement that harm and the absence of well-being are associated in any child care setting other than foster care is a guarantee for the eventual elimination of congregate care. This year’s legislation did not include denigrating statements, but it did prohibit Federal funding being used for provision of child care services unless treatment services were indicated. It eliminated programs like ours from receiving remuneration for care. Honestly, most programs like those in the membership of our organization are not dependent on federal or state monies.

You’re probably wondering: “So why does it matter?” It matters because the elimination of congregate care as an option is the first step in eventually doing away with it all together.

At any rate, I’ve said all that to say that for months now, we have tracked the anti-congregate care legislation and attempted to provide a voice of opposition as well as an objective and accurate picture of the services we actually provide. When the legislation didn’t pass before the election, it was thought that we made it through another session without legislative harm to agencies like ours serving children.

On Monday, we received notification that the entire text of the proposed legislation we had been tracking and opposing for months was being added as an amendment to the CARES package. Apparently, several legislators added amendments to the CARES package putting it at about a thousand-page document. Are you ready for this? The notation was made that the odds were very favorable in both the Senate and House for the bill to pass within the next two weeks. Maybe that is why it was being referred to as Christmas tree legislation.

How do you fight city hall, or the State Legislature or the Federal Legislature when amendments are added to bills at the last minute and there is not opportunity for public comment? It is not the process I think of as: “The American Way”. I have mentioned before that I don’t always get it right. Like it or not, what I just described is “The American Way.”

Consequently, I went home from work on Monday very disheartened. It seemed like the dye was cast regardless of efforts to the contrary. In fact, I emotionally succumbed to a posture that we had lost this battle.

Late yesterday afternoon, I received word that the legislation we have been opposing has now been eliminated from the text of the CARES package. You can probably imagine both my shock and dismay coupled with absolute delight to learn that it is no longer on the fast track to becoming law.

All My Best!

Don

How Do We Agree To Disagree?

How do we agree to disagree? Isn’t that one of the primary questions that our nation faces as we move forward? Perhaps that begs the question: “Do we want to move forward?” If the answer to that question is favorable, then how do we agree to disagree?

Better yet, forget the nation for the next few moments. Lets move the question closer to home. Actually, truth be told, it is one of the primary questions that we face even in a place as small as the one where I live. I say that with a sense of certainty because it is true everywhere. If you’re reading this blog, think about the community where you reside. I think you’ll find a ring of truth in what I’m sharing.

It is interesting that the Christian community is being credited with the outcome of Tuesday’s election results. Of course, the same is being said of the head of the FBI. I guess it depends on which news channel you choose to follow. Getting back to the Christian community, reportedly, “one in four out of five white voters who self-identified as ‘evangelical’ voted for Donald Trump”. Somehow I find that confusing. When I voted there were no questions related to my faith walk or my religiously held beliefs. However, I do fall in the category of a white voter.

I will make the following assertion with certainty that what I’m sharing is true: “Wednesday morning when Christian people awakened to the news of the newly named president elect, there were two very different heartfelt responses.” Trust me on this:

For some there was a sense of jubilation – “Thank God from whom all blessings flow” was the song that resonated with their mindset. God had seen the oppression of his people and had opted to set the captives free. Finally, all was well with the world – God reigns.

For others there was a sense of terror. The immediate emotional and perhaps spiritual response mirrored that of Christ on the cross. “And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” Folks were in a state of absolute horror that such an egregious outcome could have possibly taken place.

On Friday, November 11,2016 “Christianity Today” published an article entitled: “Trump Won. Here’s How 20 Evangelical Leaders Feel”. For the sake of brevity, I will only share three of the responses. But I think you’ll find them interesting:

Thabiti Anyabwile – Pastor, Anacostia River Church, Washington, DC

“I am doing well following the election. Our political process worked again, and that’s a blessing. The result is not what I wanted. Ideally, I longed for a way for both major party candidates to lose. And Mr. Trump’s election was, by a sliver, the worse possible outcome in my mind. But I’m confident in the goodness of God and his loving rule of all things. And I’m confident that my ministry of prayer for the president will produce more than all my political participation. Now the work begins afresh—on my knees and in continued engagement.”

Barry C. Black – Chaplain of the United States Senate

“Donald Trump has been elected president of the United States, and I feel grateful, optimistic, and satisfied. I feel grateful because 1 Thessalonians 5:18 admonishes, ‘In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God concerning you in Christ Jesus.’ I feel optimistic because of Romans 8:28: ‘in everything God is working for the good of those who love him, who are the called according to his purposes.’ I also feel satisfied because Philippians 4:12 declares, ‘I have learned in every state to feel contentment.’ In short, after the election of any president, as a person of faith I know I have nothing to fear.”

Jonathan Brooks – Senior pastor, Canaan Community Church, Chicago, Illinois

“Donald Trump is our president and I am speechless. Deep down inside, despite what we have seen over that last few years, I thought we had made progress. I just knew that a blatant racist and accused misogynist could not be the leader of our country. But I was wrong! America proved that we care more about preserving a way of life that privileges a few than protecting the lives of our most marginalized.”

We have just witnessed and been participants in the most controversial presidential election that I can remember. In all seriousness, it matters not to me how you voted or whether or not you chose to vote. From my perspective, and most will probably disagree, there were and are significant integrity issues on both sides. What concerns me most is that American Christians, like all Americans, are posturing to hold fast to their ideology, negativism and disdain for those who saw it differently.

If we stay the course, we are in essence making the same choice that Samson made in handling conflict with the Philistines. My daughter and son-in-law have a dog they named Samson because he represents strength and stamina. They perceived he was going to be big and strong. Though they deny they named him after Samson in the Old Testament, the two have similarities.

The Old Testament Samson was at the top of the leaderboard when it came to strength. He also effectively held the Philistine people at bay from harming the Hebrew people. In the midst of his arrogance and “non-defeatist attitude,” he self-servingly chose to also be an aggressive threat to them. I guess you could say there was “no love lost” between the two.

Because the Philistines perceived him as a threat, Delila, a gal with Philistine roots, coaxed him into sharing the source of his strength. Learning that his strength was associated with the length of his hair, she subsequently gave him a haircut while he was sleeping. The results were disastrous for Samson. He forfeited his strength and was savagely brutalized by the Philistines.

From that day forward, he lived under their captivity and ridicule while being required to work like an animal until the tragic end that became his. In a last ditch effort at orchestrating vengeance, he prayed to God for strength to avenge his oppressors.

According to Scripture, after he had been taken to a coliseum to be put on public display and taunting, he prayed to God for strength. In a final effort to orchestrate his perception of justice, he dislocated the pillars and foundation of the building where he had been taken. In the process, it collapsed into a pile of rubble and served as a place of death for the Philistines as well as himself. Hatred; however it is expressed, never has a positive face.

Contrast that approach related to conflict resolution demonstrated by Samuel with that demonstrated by Christ. He, too, in the midst of persecution turned to God in prayer. “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do”, was the prayer he verbalized. What a very different mindset than the destructiveness that Samuel sought.

Whenever we harbor hatred for others and see them as the problem, it only serves to escalate into aggression. For the past forty-six years I’ve worked in an environment with kids from hard places. Sometimes because of anger issues and other unmet needs, their behavior is unsettling and concerning. Yet, seeing them as “bad kids” is not an appropriate response. Their behavior may need alteration, but they are not bad kids. They are kids made in the image of God just like the rest of creation.

Personal assault – written, verbalized or physically forceful is never an acceptable form of conflict resolution or problem solving. Violence escalates violence. I have a dear friend with whom I have an excellent rapport. He often playfully comments on my blogs. I’ve given him carte blanche approval to write anything he wants to write because I know he is trying to be funny or get a rise out of me. Trust me, I can hold my own with people like that. Birds of a feather flock together.

At any rate, last week in a post I mentioned that I wasn’t a passionate advocate for either presidential candidate. I contrasted that to the passion I felt regarding my support for George McGovern in 1972. In response, he countered to my post:

“You voted for McGovern, that explains one thing! You’ve been sick a long, long time…. :-)”

Okay, so I knew he was joking and was trying to get a rise out of me. Despite cognitively knowing that, on an emotional level it felt like an assault to my person. I moved into “the Samson approach” (aka- my tit-for-tat mode) and that never serves anyone well.

Deciding to cut him some slack I wrote: “That’s really funny.” If only I had stopped there, I wouldn’t be using my response as an example of what to avoid. Unfortunately, I couldn’t leave well enough alone. There may have even been a slight smirk on my face when I added: “You obviously were too young at the time to understand the dynamics of sending young men into battle and then prohibiting them to fight to win. It was great for the economy, but at oh what a price”. If you want to pour gasoline on a fire, that’s a great approach. Fortunately, I saw the error of my ways and attempted to do damage control before things got totally beyond repair.

Why not opt to take a different approach? How about one that restores relationships? The dedication page in Carlyle Marney’s book: “Faith in Conflict” reads: “To Victor, who agrees with me in nothing and is my friend in everything.” Dr. Marney was pastor of First Baptist Church in Austin from 1948 -1958. I have a friend who grew up in that church and Dr. Marney was one of her spiritual heroes. At the time I worked with her, Browning Ware was her pastor. He, too, was one of her heroes. I remember being invited by her to the “Marney Lecture Series”, an annual event, that was named in Dr. Marney’s honor.

I don’t know the back-story, but the relationship that Dr. Marney shared with Victor sounds beyond human instrumentality. Can you imagine having a friend who agrees with you on nothing and is your friend in everything? Why not rise to the occasion and make a Christ-like response to those we currently are holding an arms length away because they see things differently.

All My Best!

Don

All The Golds In California But We Have New Mexico River Rock

When it comes to landscape design, historically it has fallen my responsibility to craft and implement a plan. That isn’t to say that I haven’t sought outside professional consultation. In the last half of our marriage, I’ve sometimes sought professional help in creating a plan. However, when it comes to sweat equity, the dirt under the fingernails has primarily been mine.

Of course, we haven’t always had to start from scratch. Although I wouldn’t say we’ve lived a nomadic lifestyle, we have called a lot of different addresses home. I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but out of forty-eight years of marriage, we’ve lived in twenty-seven different places. Some of that has been my fault. When it comes to landscape design and decorating, I need a project or at least I used to need a project. We’ve been in our current home fourteen years and as far as I’m concerned, we’re done. If anyone mentions assisted living, I’m going to Colorado to ski black diamonds.

When we were in Midland we purchased two new homes. In the approximate twenty-four months we lived in each, I changed the color in every room and completely planted and maintained the landscaping. We also purchased two homes in Midland where we weren’t the first owners. Consequently most of my efforts were invested in stripping and replacing wallpaper and painting. I can’t take full credit for stripping the wallpaper. The General helped immensely, but hanging the wallpaper was totally my responsibility.

Maybe it’s through the concept of osmosis, but the General reached the place where she thought the landscape design in our current home needed a new look. This time she is the one who had the itch that needed to be scratched. Truthfully, I’m not exaggerating when I say she is the mastermind behind the new look.

I guess I should say that the emotional energy she invested that predicated the much needed change in our landscape reminded me of something from the Bible. Some people refer to the passage as the parable of the inopportune widow. Others refer it to the parable of the persistent widow. Perhaps you are familiar with the parable found in the eighteenth chapter of Luke.

Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. He said: “In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared what people thought. And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’

“For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care what people think, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won’t eventually come and attack me!’” And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”

Actually, when the General was talking about the need to modify our landscape design to something that was truly low maintenance, I had the thought she’s planning for her future in my absence. Historically, she’s not invested a lot of time in yard work. Of course, I’ll say it for her in the unlikely event that she reads this blog and opts to comment. She would truthfully tell you that I haven’t done any yard work in at least six years. While that is not totally accurate, it is close to truth.

I guess it is the luck of the draw. Both my younger brother and my son have wives who love to work in the yard. Consequently, when it comes to a regular lawnmower, neither my brother nor my son would know how to start a lawn mower without having to give it some thought. I would say that both lead a charmed life.

At any rate, the General wore me down. I guess you could say I was in denial. Sure, I knew there were sections of the four-foot wide sidewalk that circles our home that you couldn’t walk down. The oleander plants were like something out of the story of Jack and the Bean Stalk. Invasive is the only word I can think of to describe them. Truthfully, in my own defense, I cut them back every year, but each pruning only served as a catalyst for new growth.

Did I mention the oleander plants with their bright pink flowers are now gone. I guess that is the trade-off for having a sidewalk that is now passable. Speaking of gone, so is the Texas Mountain Laurel that was planted to close to something else. Actually I hate to admit it, but the General (I’m grateful she is not the persistent widow since that means I’d be gone) was right. Three fourths of the vegetation planted in our yard has now been replaced with river rock from New Mexico. Okay, Okay, I’ll say it for her. Gone also are the weeds that came up involuntarily and looked like a snake infested habitat.

It was her intent to go for low maintenance. Did I mention her nickname for me is No Maintenance? Actually, my hat would be off in her honor, except that I don’t wear a hat. When I gave her the nod to do whatever she wanted to do with the landscape, she didn’t let any grass grow under her feet.

Actually, it terms of sweat equity she has none unless texting back and forth with the landscape design company qualifies a sweat equity. The good news is that I don’t have to bother with spreading mulch anymore. That, too, had been one of my annual responsibilities.

Friday she announced that going forward the only thing required of me was to invest thirty minutes each Saturday in pruning anything that needed to be pruned. The thirty-minute mandate seemed fairly non-negotiable on her part. She said something about: “If you can blog two hours a day, you can invest thirty minutes a week…” Though it wasn’t a veiled threat that she might be more like the persistent widow than I currently think she is, I got the message.

By the way, all the gold may be in California, but we’ve got New Mexico river rocks in our yard. It is a good look.

All My Best!

Don

River Rock

Is less preferable to more? The General thought so, but then again we are not always in agreement. For one thing, even if I could convince myself to agree with her, what she wanted wasn’t easily orchestrated. Saying “wasn’t easily orchestrated” gives her the benefit of the doubt. From my perspective (limited though it was), I thought it was impossible without heavy equipment and there was no way to get heavy equipment into our yard because of the fence. I wasn’t willing to take the fence down.

Call it a standoff if you want, but at the end of the day we were of two very different mindsets. We’ve been in our home 14 years. Consequently, we’ve never been down this road before. We’ve never lived in any one place as long as we’ve lived in this home. This is the fourth newly constructed home that we’ve had the privilege to own. Consequently, we had no one but ourselves to credit for the landscaping. Back in the day, I thought I was pretty good at orchestrating a plan and creating an impressive look. In fact, I’ve even been told that I missed my calling. “I should be doing landscape”.

I guess in a lot of respects, we did that here, but impressive turned into overgrown and crowded as vegetation continued to mature and multiply. Our daughter’s wedding reception at our home was ten years ago. Most folks would probably agree that the setting was picture perfect. In fact, we’ve got the pictures to prove it. The landscape never looked better, but that was before it grew and it grew and it grew. In addition, it multiplied and it multiplied.

The General probably would have been inclined to agree with folks complimenting the landscape plan back in the day when they were verbalizing their praises. In today’s environment, not so much! In fact, she’d probably suggest that I am clueless when it comes to landscaping. Of course, she has the pictures to prove it. I am probably the only one who’d maintain that our lawn is simply a little too crowded, but is still a good look.

Just last night the General mentioned the Bur oak tree we planted at our home in Midland. The last time we drove by there, the canopy of the tree covered the entirety of the back yard. I’d call that “made in the shade”, but the General would be inclined to say it was too much tree for the space. Maybe she’s right, but we only lived in that home for eighteen months, so the tree was right-sized for our needs.

Two houses before that one, I had a professional landscaper design our landscape plan. That, too, was for a home in Midland. The landscape professional recommended a row of pine trees across the back fence. The last time we drove by that place, I could believe the size of the trees.

At any rate, the General determined that we needed professional help. I think she was talking about altering the landscape rather than working on marriage issues, but you can never be too sure. At one point she said, “We thought we were putting in a low maintenance yard and it is not low maintenance”. In her kindness (whether purposeful or by happenstance) she didn’t add that she is married to a complete loser who does no landscape maintenance. She may have thought it, but at least she had the kindness not to verbalize it.

What can I say? Maybe she wore me down, but I finally conceded to do it her way. I wasn’t even sure what her way was, but the dye was cast. If I ever hoped to have peace of mind, a change in our landscaping was non-negotiable and for every practical purpose, it really didn’t matter what I thought. You know what they say, “Happy wife/happy life.”

Throwing caution to the wind, I made the commitment: “Do whatever you want. The only thing I ask of you is that you never tell me what it cost. I won’t ask any questions. I won’t render an opinion. I’ll be thrilled with whatever you opt to do, just don’t tell me how much money we’ve spent.

She met with a landscape professional and assured me that I’d like the new river rock design that was going to replace a lot of the green. I had the thought that “replace a lot of the green” was a nice play on words. I’ve seen what they charge for river rock. In case you haven’t, it’s not dirt-cheap. Indeed it was going to replace a lot of the green. I guess if there’s an upside, you don’t have to water rocks. On the other hand, what about the sprinkler system, “Does it continue to run?” After all, there will still be some vegetation. I figure I don’t have a dog in this fight. I’ll let the General and the landscape professional figure it out.

On Thursday of this last week, the landscape crew showed up to work their magic. Reportedly, it might take as long as two days just to get rid of all the General wanted gone from the yard. I wasn’t terribly worried because, like I said, “Without heavy equipment, not much was going out”.

I had no idea what three young men with shovels could do. I was absolutely amazed! They weren’t near done at the end of the day on Thursday, but trust me they were off to a good start. Speechless is the only way I can describe my reaction. For one thing, I was keeping my commitment to the General. She hadn’t told me the projected cost of the project and I wasn’t asking. I also wasn’t going to say, “I bet it cost more to have that stuff removed than it cost us to plant it.” That would have been crazy. I thought it, but I didn’t say it.

When I got home from work on Friday, I wasn’t even sure I was at the right house. It was a complete makeover. Our overgrown crowded lawn was no longer overgrown and crowded. To my surprise, I actually liked it. I still don’t know how three men with shovels could have orchestrated the magic they pulled off, but it is amazing.

I’m sure it will even be more amazing when they deliver and install eleven tons of river rock. Did I mention, there are more varieties of river rock than I ever imagined? I did go with the General on Saturday to look at rock. At some level, that was a big mistake because I began to get a feel for the cost of the materials.

The choices are many and they range in cost from $39 a ton, $100 a ton, $235 a ton – all the way up to $800 a ton. Did I mention the $39 a ton rock is the kind of rock you’d throw out of your yard rather than purchase to put in it. Secondly, much to my dismay I heard myself telling the General, don’t settle for $100 a ton rock if what you really want is $235 a ton. With what you’re spending on this project, don’t cut corners. Get what you want.

At the end of the day, it is going to be a good look. The way I see it, I’ll never be able to own a home overlooking water, perhaps overlooking river rock is the next best thing.

All My Best!

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Don

It Was Beyond My Control

“A day late and a dollar short” is an expression I’ve been familiar with for a very long time. I truthfully haven’t had a lot of experience with either. Like my sons says, “If you wait until the last minute, it only takes a minute.” Even he knows the importance of meeting deadlines and getting things completed on time.

When it comes to money, I attempt to have a little cash stashed away for a rainy day. Of course, the General and our kids will have to negotiate an Easter egg hunt to find it after I’m gone. I’ve cautioned them to leave no page unturned in any of my books. If they opt to burn my books, more than white paper may go up in smoke. If nothing else, the cautionary warning should foster a love for my reading material.

In addition, the General is aware that I carry plastic. The only expectation related to plastic is to make the General aware of anything I charge. I’m not sure how she manages all of that in the checkbook. Trust me, she has a system in place. My only role is to make her aware of the charges and of course there is the expectation that I make the money to cover the monthly bill.

I’d probably be wise not to render a value judgment on the General’s system, but it seems totally unnecessary to me. The simple solution is to: “Pay the bill when it arrives.” In essence, that is what she does. The only difference between her approach and mine is that she knows the amount of the bill prior to receiving the bill and has already made adjustments in the checkbook. My system may be cloaked in “unexpected and surprised”, but the outlay of cash is the same. I’m not complaining. Her approach seems like a lot more effort to me, but she likes the feeling of being in control proactive and aware.

Despite the fact that I get calls on a weekly basis offering to lower the interest rate on our credit card, I hang up the phone before they complete their spill. In addition, every call I receive indicates that I will not hear from them again. This is my last and final offer. They are obviously not true to their word, because I get at least one call a week. I wouldn’t trust those folks as far as I could throw them based on the erroneous information they share every time they call.

To date, there has never been any interest charged on my credit card because I (we) don’t ever carry over an outstanding balance. Trust me, the General orders significantly more online than I do. Of course, with her orders the expectations remain the same. We pay the invoice when we receive the bill. In addition, I have to make enough money to cover the charges. Did I mention the General leads a charmed life?

It isn’t often that I’m early, but I’m seldom late when it comes to deadlines. When it comes to meetings, I have a tendency to show up early. I’m more than just a little familiar with Austin and Houston traffic patterns. Consequently, I start early just in case. My tolerance level for folks who arrive for meetings late isn’t very broad. That is particularly true when folks need the training to be issued continuing education credits. It always chaps me when anyone shows up an hour late and carries that smug expression that they will have confirmation of attendance regardless of their delayed appearance. I even become more incensed when it is ethics training they fail to fully complete.

It isn’t often that I get a lot of questions regarding anything I’ve blogged. Most of you are intuitively thinking: “How could anyone have questions regarding the content of you writing? It is pretty simple.” Yet, my communication regarding the mistaken conversation I had last week with the fellow planning to refinish our front door related to my need for yard work caught a lot of attention. I was emailed or texted by a number of people wanting to know: “Is today’s blog purposefully a cliff-hanger? How did it turn out? Did you get the yard work done?’

Sadly and disappointingly, I didn’t’ get the yard work done. I’m sticking with my story that it was beyond my control. On the bright side, the landscape folks arrived on Thursday of this week. A day late and a dollar short turned out to be a week late and I haven’t yet received the charge. It may have been a communication error, but they did more work than I was anticipating. Regardless of the charge, I will pay the bill “no questions asked”. The place now looks great!

As the General and I were headed to dinner on Friday night, I asked, “Have we turned the sprinkler system on?” I remembered that I had turned it on much earlier. Discovering the error of my ways, the General had a conniption fit because I had the system activated at the same time we were getting measurable amounts of rainfall. She thought I was foolishly wasting resources. The system has a built in check and balance system to ensure it does not work if it is raining at the time it engages. Explaining that to the General required more effort than I had the energy to invest.

With the General it is all “black and white”. There are no shades of gray. Consequently, it was easier to follow her subtle directive than to argue (I mean convince her she was wrong). Knowing when to activate the sprinkler system is only one of many tasks that carry the potential of a house divided.

I should have seen it coming, but it still caught me by surprise. Friday evening when I asked if the sprinkler system was turned on, the General responded: “Yes!” She went on to say: “I know it is turned on because the sidewalk is getting totally soaked with water. You need to…”. Did I mention that any time the General opens a sentence with the phrase “You need to…”, it automatically engages my proclivity for selected hearing? I have a legitimate excuse. I am both hearing impaired and I don’t like to be told what to do.

On the bright side, last night when I was putting this blog together and got to the aforementioned paragraph, I realized that I had turned the water on late in the evening to fill the pond and had forgotten to turn it off. Do you have any idea the level of grief I saved myself by making the self-correction without the General sensing the need to provide Lecture #617? By every sense of the imagination, this turned out to be a WIN/WIN situation. Otherwise, it would be Sunday morning and well (it’s a very deep subject) you can only imagine.

All My Best!

Don

It Was Beyond My Control

All My Best!

Don