<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785</id><updated>2012-02-12T14:05:13.503-08:00</updated><category term='Planned Parenthood'/><category term='Super Bowl XXV'/><category term='choice'/><category term='reading classics'/><category term='Sweet Thursday'/><category term='OWS'/><category term='Lines'/><category term='Recycle'/><category term='McStay'/><category term='Susan G. Komen'/><category term='God'/><category term='abortion'/><category term='donating'/><category term='giving to the poor'/><category term='life'/><category term='Reuse'/><category term='Missing Fallbrook Family'/><category term='Whitney Houston'/><category term='Joseph McStay'/><category term='State of the Union'/><category term='Repeat'/><category term='Obama'/><category term='Haiti'/><category term='blood drive'/><category term='class warfare'/><category term='money is the root of all evil'/><category term='Steinbeck'/><category term='national anthem'/><category term='fantasy vs. reality'/><category term='Occupy Wall Street'/><category term='Summer McStay'/><title type='text'>Curiosity Cured the Cat</title><subtitle type='html'>The cure for boredom is curiosity.  There is no cure for curiosity. --Dorothy Parker</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>129</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8565085883673393277</id><published>2012-02-12T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-12T14:05:13.510-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Whitney Houston'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Super Bowl XXV'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='national anthem'/><title type='text'>Whitney Houston's National Anthem</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;It was the height of national patriotism that moment in time during Super Bowl XXV in January of 1991. &amp;nbsp;We&lt;i&gt; were&lt;/i&gt; the red, white and blue. &amp;nbsp;Operation Desert Shield had just become Desert Storm thrusting us into war for the first time since Vietnam. &amp;nbsp;We were pro-military, pro-troops, pro-America! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, Whitney Houston brought us to our feet. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;In living rooms all across America and the world, Americans stood proud and patriotic. We put down our Super Bowl libations, pressed hands to our hearts and listened in collective silence as the Florida Orchestra cued Whitney Houston. &amp;nbsp;That night she belted out what has become known as the greatest singing of the National Anthem anywhere, anytime. &amp;nbsp;Cheers erupted, tears flowed and every American heart in the world swelled with national pride. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;It's easy to recall that feeling now since most of us have lived though 9/11 and can clearly remember the flag-lined neighborhood streets screaming an autumnal Fourth of July. &amp;nbsp;But, back then, in 1991 this was a new experience for us as a country. &amp;nbsp;Of the older crowd, some had healed from the acidic bath of Vietnam, but many more hadn't. &amp;nbsp;Those of us too young to understand the giant rift that had taken place, simply chose to ignore. &amp;nbsp;We talked of the military in hushed tones and often our history teachers never made it past JFK's assassination before school year's end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But 1991 dawned a new era. &amp;nbsp;Patriotism blew across the land as an unexpected wind snapped our sails and sent us forth, walking a little taller, talking a little louder, acting a bit bolder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Whitney Houston's performance on the field that evening in Tampa--bad costume choices aside--will always embody for me those heady days where we learned again to be proud of our country and raise the colors with honor on our houses and in public squares.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Thank you, Whitney, for lending your stunning instrument to a moment in history when we all needed to hear, "O'er the land of the free, and home of the brave!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Rest in peace, Whitney. &amp;nbsp;God Bless America.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8565085883673393277?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8565085883673393277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8565085883673393277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8565085883673393277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8565085883673393277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2012/02/whitney-houstons-national-anthem.html' title='Whitney Houston&apos;s National Anthem'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4597654822125811969</id><published>2012-02-05T08:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-05T08:57:05.072-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='choice'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Susan G. Komen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Planned Parenthood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abortion'/><title type='text'>Planned Parenthood and the Susan G. Komen Mess</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'll just say it. &amp;nbsp;I believe in the sanctity of life. &amp;nbsp;All life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;How anyone can walk with God and not realize that life is sacred, doesn't know the God I know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, I'm an oddity. &amp;nbsp;The Left want to end death row killings but support abortion. &amp;nbsp;The Right want to end abortions but support death row killings. &amp;nbsp;Totally insane, say I.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I believe in life. &amp;nbsp;I don't think killing someone is the worst punishment. &amp;nbsp;I vote for stricter conditions for lifers. &amp;nbsp;I vote for necessities only, no cable tv and workout rooms. &amp;nbsp;I vote for life sentences for our most dire cases.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I believe in life. &amp;nbsp;I don't think a baby is a mistake. &amp;nbsp;I vote for a baby's chance at their own life. &amp;nbsp;I vote for adoption. &amp;nbsp;I vote for families raising kids. &amp;nbsp;I vote for premarital sexual abstinence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;It's not our right to take a life. &amp;nbsp;Any life. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;If you are of Judeo-Christian belief, then you have to follow the 6th commandment which tells us not to kill. &amp;nbsp;Anything else is fooling ourselves. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Life is sacred and should be protected.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Susan G. Komen mess with Planned Parenthood created quite a stir and that's been a really good thing for us all to talk about and get us thinking about various issues regarding female healthcare and abortions. &amp;nbsp;The Susan G. Komen organization cut funding to Planned Parenthood due to a grant regulation and it wasn't tied to abortion, but it got us all talking about these women's healthcare issues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;As for me, I wish Planned Parenthood could split into two organizations. &amp;nbsp;One that promotes the health of women and the other that oversees the killing of babies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I love the part of Planned Parenthood that provides decent healthcare for at-risk women. &amp;nbsp;When I was young, struggling financially, and didn't have health insurance, I frequented Planned Parenthood for yearly checkups and female screenings. &amp;nbsp;For a sliding scale fee, I could get a yearly exam which I could easily afford. &amp;nbsp;That cost me a fraction of what a physician's visit at the time would be. &amp;nbsp;It was a great help to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I know that Planned Parenthood centers help millions of other women a year with exams, tests, referrals, check-ups, etc. &amp;nbsp;They are filling a great need, helping poor women and women without insurance obtain proper female medical care and access to STD and pregnancy testing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But, then there's that other thing they do. &amp;nbsp;That outpatient medical procedure that is legal and safe,--not really safe, but more about THAT at another time--t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;he vast number of abortions they perform every year. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, that's what causes me pause every time. &amp;nbsp;I believe that a baby has a right to have a shot at life. &amp;nbsp;Any life. &amp;nbsp;Even a poor life. &amp;nbsp;In any just society, a baby cannot be a "problem." &amp;nbsp;We can't start killing babies simply because they are inconvenient or we can't afford them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The pro-choicers wrap the abortion issue in a nice, pretty blanket called "a woman's right to choose." &amp;nbsp;But that belies what is happening. &amp;nbsp;Abortion is a life is snuffed out. &amp;nbsp;A life that wanted nothing more to come into this world to be held, loved and comforted by the very person who decided to kill it. &amp;nbsp;Everyone freaks out at cruelty to animals, but seriously a mother killing her baby, isn't that just a &lt;i&gt;little&lt;/i&gt; more intense?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;SIDE BAR: If you've had an abortion and are having a hard time grappling with the past, please visit &amp;nbsp;www.afterabortion.org. &amp;nbsp;You can find healing and help there for Post Abortion Stress Syndrome. &amp;nbsp;Pregnant? &amp;nbsp;They also have many fine resources anyone who is pregnant and struggling with what to do.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I wish the Planned Parenthood organization would stop participating in the 1.21 million abortions performed yearly. &amp;nbsp;But they won't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, could they at least split into two groups? &amp;nbsp;They could have one part take over the abortion clinics and the other act as healthcare clinics. &amp;nbsp;That way, I could support the health clinics. &amp;nbsp;I could get behind their great works in helping under-served women access medical care. &amp;nbsp;I would not fear that government funds taken from my tax dollars could be misdirected, accidentally or otherwise, to abortions. &amp;nbsp;I would rest happy knowing that women's healthcare needs were taken care of outside that which I don't support.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I kinda wish the backlash of the Susan G. Komen funding problem didn't cause them to cave to political pressure and change their rules to allow funding of Planned Parenthood to continue. &amp;nbsp;The issue will now go away and further discussion and inspection of these topics will no longer be a central theme in our conversations. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Even though the Susan G. Komen foundation stated clearly their move wasn't tied to abortion it was tied to a government investigation and their grant rules, the fact that we were all talking about Planned Parenthood and what it stands for was a good thing! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I can't tell you how many mothers with whom I spoke, like me, used Planned Parenthood in their youth and are supporters of the healthcare side of it. &amp;nbsp;All of my Christian friends were in agreement that the abortion side of Planned Parenthood really made them uneasy regarding the organization. &amp;nbsp;And this, despite their fervent belief that the women's healthcare delivery side of it was necessary and beneficial to many under-serviced women and communities.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;We need to talk about these issues, understand these issues and re-evaluate where we stand on these issues. &amp;nbsp;We can't keep shoving this to the back burner and giving up on debate. &amp;nbsp;We need to talk about it, and hear the sides. &amp;nbsp;Stephen Covey says, "seek first to understand." &amp;nbsp;We need to listen. &amp;nbsp;Then we need to think. &amp;nbsp;Then we need to talk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;As for me, I've been many places on my journey, but after much introspection and prayer I have come to conclusion that life matters. &amp;nbsp;It matters a whole lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4597654822125811969?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4597654822125811969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4597654822125811969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4597654822125811969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4597654822125811969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2012/02/planned-parenthood-and-susan-g-komen.html' title='Planned Parenthood and the Susan G. Komen Mess'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5128051444817648634</id><published>2012-01-25T11:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T11:25:46.839-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Reuse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recycle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='State of the Union'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Repeat'/><title type='text'>Repeat, Reuse, Recycle</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm tired of politicians using the same line over and over again but not actually putting their words into practice. &amp;nbsp;It's on BOTH sides of the aisle, so I'm not bashing one over the other here. &amp;nbsp;It's a problem rampant throughout our political system. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;It's for the children! &amp;nbsp;We need to do something about the environment! &amp;nbsp;We have to reform social security!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Time and again the call rings out in speeches, year after year, the same rhetoric, and not one single foot steps forward on any of these issues. &amp;nbsp;THEN, if the government DOES act, it's a disaster. &amp;nbsp;Take the incandescent light bulb nonsense. &amp;nbsp;Instead of energy-sucking incandescent bulbs, I must now buy eco-friendly, kilowatt-saving bulbs. &amp;nbsp;Never mind that they are filled with deadly poisonous mercury (&lt;i&gt;green, indeed!&lt;/i&gt;) and when I need to get rid of them I have to take them to a center set up specifically for hazardous waste disposal. &amp;nbsp;And if I break one, I practically need to call in a HazMat team. &amp;nbsp;Um, yeah, that's SO much better. &amp;nbsp;Thank you, government.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Here's an excerpt from the Weekly Standard highlighting Obama's common phrases...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;"Obama 2010&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px;"&gt;: "It's time for colleges and universities to get serious about cutting their own costs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Obama 2012&lt;/strong&gt;: "Colleges and universities have to do their part by working to keep costs down."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Obama 2010&lt;/strong&gt;: "And we should continue the work by fixing our broken immigration system."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Obama 2011&lt;/strong&gt;: "I strongly believe that we should take on, once and for all, the issue of illegal immigration."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Obama 2012&lt;/strong&gt;: "I believe as strongly as ever that we should take on illegal immigration."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Obama 2010&lt;/strong&gt;: "We face a deficit of trust."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Obama 2012&lt;/strong&gt;: "I've talked tonight about the deficit of trust . . ."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Obama 2010&lt;/strong&gt;: "We can't wage a perpetual campaign."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Obama 2012&lt;/strong&gt;: "We need to end the notion that the two parties must be locked in a perpetual campaign."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;***&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;The good news is that after a couple years these sorts of speeches begin to write themselves."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Yup, and what exactly has HE done other than repeat these tired, old lines? &amp;nbsp;At least he's recycling. &amp;nbsp;Career politicians need to be ousted. &amp;nbsp;We need term limits NOW!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.weeklystandard.com/blogs/havent-we-heard_618462.html"&gt;http://www.weeklystandard.com/blogs/havent-we-heard_618462.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5128051444817648634?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5128051444817648634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5128051444817648634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5128051444817648634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5128051444817648634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2012/01/reduce-reuse-recycle.html' title='Repeat, Reuse, Recycle'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6887263088131994568</id><published>2012-01-18T05:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T05:59:28.262-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='OWS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='class warfare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Occupy Wall Street'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money is the root of all evil'/><title type='text'>Occupy Wall Street Money Woes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So you know in theory I agree with what the OWS crowd stands for: a smaller and less-involved government, revoking government officials ability to profit from their own legislation, and sweeping reformation of the banking system.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I don't agree with their Sixties-style sleeping, living and defecating on public property methods, but if these are in fact their stance on the issues, I do agree with them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Here's a tidbit I learned today. &amp;nbsp;OWS is fighting over money. &amp;nbsp;I know, ironic, huh? &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The protesters who stand for the little people and against big business and big profits found themselves on the receiving end of $700,000. &amp;nbsp;As of this week they've winnowed that boon down to $170,000 left in their coffers. &amp;nbsp;And, that's causing quite a stir in the camps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;How did this happen?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;In an article in the Wall Street Journal, Steven Ahmadi, a protester who has been on the scene since the beginning says, "With such an influx of donations, we've begun to rely on economic capital." &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;He diagnosed the group's problem as the "nonprofit industrial complex." &amp;nbsp;Which he defines as the "trap that the mission becomes more about sustaining the organization than its message."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I think many of us could have seen this coming. &amp;nbsp;They have become that which they protest against.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;We have to be very careful about this, especially as the "class warfare" fight heats up this year. &amp;nbsp;It's not only the love of money that is evil, but also the protecting of money. &amp;nbsp;When people stake their claim on a piece of the pie, the fight becomes about sustaining their very own piece and no longer about the core issues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I think the OWS crowd is finding out that it's not so easy when they're the stewards of capital. &amp;nbsp;There's something inherent about money that makes us act in ways that divert us from our core causes and beliefs. &amp;nbsp;You see this happen time and again in churches, organizations, governments, families, etc. &amp;nbsp;When the focus goes from our endeavors to paying for our endeavors, money can hypnotize, it can entrance, it can seductively woo. &amp;nbsp;We leave friendships, partnerships, ideals, morals and even God at the door when we enter the bank vault. &amp;nbsp;We commit crimes we normally wouldn't when money is concerned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The OWS crowd is fighting now over how the funds have been spent, and how they will continue to be spent. &amp;nbsp;Not that they've left much to work with. &amp;nbsp;These days 170K isn't much for any company or organization. &amp;nbsp;So much for the camps' "nic at nite" booths where you can roll your own tobacco for free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The ugly truth, I believe, is that evil doesn't use money to thwart us, evil IS money. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I know the Biblical passage: the LOVE of money is the root of all evil. &amp;nbsp;Well, I'm not so sure those hippies in the Sixties didn't get it right when they said, "Money is the root of all evil."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Money can solve problems, surely, but I've seen more done on a shoestring budget with human sweat equity than I've seen done with a large donor check. &amp;nbsp;Usually the large check is the start of an organization's problems. &amp;nbsp;How to spend it, when to spend it, who gets a say in the spending, who gets a cut of it...blah, blah, blah. &amp;nbsp;You see where this goes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Money seems to me to be a stumbling block not a pathway to goodness. &amp;nbsp;If it can make the idealistic OWS crowd leave their core issues and bicker over their bank balance, then this looks to be a microcosm of everyone's dealings with money. &amp;nbsp;From personal finances to big business to federal government, the spending of money is an instigator for fighting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;In this year 2012, we'll be hearing more and more about "class warfare." &amp;nbsp;They don't call it "class bickering" or "class tiffing" for a reason. &amp;nbsp;It's decidedly "class WARFARE." &amp;nbsp;Money makes war and war makes money. &amp;nbsp;But it is money that trips us up like a wedding reception's open bar to alcoholic Aunt Edna. &amp;nbsp;There will blatant video footage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Money. &amp;nbsp;Fighting. &amp;nbsp;People. &amp;nbsp;I don't have a nice, neat answer or perfect wrap up for all this either. &amp;nbsp;I'm just thinking out loud....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-6887263088131994568?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6887263088131994568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=6887263088131994568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6887263088131994568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6887263088131994568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2012/01/occupy-wall-street-money-woes.html' title='Occupy Wall Street Money Woes'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5814122554006795561</id><published>2012-01-17T06:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T06:17:14.025-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Haiti'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='giving to the poor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='donating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blood drive'/><title type='text'>Mission Field: Planet Earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;One of the unintended consequences of churches "selling" their congregation on a charity is that some people get tunnel vision. &amp;nbsp;They feel that they can ONLY give to the rescue mission, the African project, the church in Indonesia, the orphanage in Haiti, etc. &amp;nbsp;They so "buy into" the cause that they forget the mission field is the planet earth. &amp;nbsp;While it's great to get church peeps on board with a cause, and focused resources can truly make a difference, this type of rallying can make people myopic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;I witnessed this firsthand when I was working for a national blood bank. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;We were having a blood drive right after the Haiti earthquake and we were pleading with people to donate blood because the need for blood was great. &amp;nbsp;What we couldn't say was that our Florida banks were shipping their blood to Haiti and we were shipping our extra blood to FL to help them out, and in turn some of that blood, too, was going to Haiti. &amp;nbsp;I could only tell people that because we were helping out Haiti we were in dire need for blood. &amp;nbsp;Period. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;I was manning a church table signing up congregants for the blood drive. &amp;nbsp;I actually had a confrontation with this man who said that I had to prove to him that his blood was going to Haiti or else he wouldn't donate. &amp;nbsp;Whaat?! &amp;nbsp;I mean, who says such a ridiculous thing? &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;He only wanted his blood to go to Haiti. &amp;nbsp;Not to a dying patient in NC or FL or wherever his blood ended up? &amp;nbsp;Like the American kid with cancer doesn't deserve his blood, only a Haitian kid? &amp;nbsp;So, he keeps his blood rather than give it to someone who isn't Haitian. &amp;nbsp;Or, maybe his blood would have gone to Haiti. &amp;nbsp;You know it just might have, but since he didn't sign up and didn't donate he never gave it a chance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;I think that when churches rally their peeps around a cause (which is a very good thing, btw!!) they should perhaps couch their battle cry with also remembering WHY we help out others. &amp;nbsp;Not to hold one group above others, but because God wants us to help out our fellow man...everywhere. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"&gt;Our mission field is the planet earth. &amp;nbsp;Yes, combined, focused resources on one cause can make a great difference, but we can't say, I only give my money to Haiti, or Africa, or India. &amp;nbsp;We have to put some change in the Salvation Army bucket, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5814122554006795561?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5814122554006795561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5814122554006795561' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5814122554006795561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5814122554006795561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2012/01/mission-field-planet-earth.html' title='Mission Field: Planet Earth'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-49426332530857550</id><published>2012-01-07T11:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T11:34:54.057-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No ID, No Drano!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So the new law in Chicago is: buy Drano, show government issued photo ID. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, the national law is: buy Sudafed, show photo ID and register purchase in a national database.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But anyone can just show up and vote without ID? &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Methinks this is wrong. &amp;nbsp;Flat wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;If you argue with me, you may NOT use the terms "disenfranchised," "racist," or "socioeconomic."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm not buying the line that people will be unable to vote simply because they have to obtain a government issued ID. &amp;nbsp;If can't get my drain or my nose unplugged without a government issued ID, then we cannot be concerned about people obtaining proof of themselves to vote. &amp;nbsp;Voting is serious. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;No one on government assistance can obtain that assistance without ID. &amp;nbsp;No one can drive, travel outside the country, check out a library book, open a checking or savings account or cash a paycheck without a photo ID.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Photo IDs will lessen voter fraud and make us all feel a little more assured that the voting results (WHATEVER THEY MAY BE) are just and accurate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-49426332530857550?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/49426332530857550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=49426332530857550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/49426332530857550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/49426332530857550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2012/01/no-id-no-drano.html' title='No ID, No Drano!'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-7535102087120918838</id><published>2011-12-26T09:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T09:55:53.333-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Joseph McStay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Summer McStay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='McStay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Missing Fallbrook Family'/><title type='text'>The Missing McStays</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Scene: me, in a post-holiday coma in dark bedroom watching ID TV whilst the kids play their new Wii games down the hall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The show spotlights the disappearance in SoCal of an entire family. &amp;nbsp;Poof! &amp;nbsp;Gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Dad, mom and two toddlers vanish in the night. &amp;nbsp;The last anyone sees of them is Feb 4, 2010, nearly 2 yrs ago. &amp;nbsp;Their white Isuzu&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Trooper is seen leaving their house at night, and the truck is discovered 4 days later abandoned 80 miles from their home in a US strip mall near the Mexican border.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Weird.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Feb 15, 2010 they are declared missing. &amp;nbsp;That's 11 days from the time they are seen last.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;According to the show, and reading online, there are many theories surrounding their vanishing. &amp;nbsp;Perhaps mom had dad killed and fled the country with the kids and a beau, or the family was abducted or forced to leave, or they simply "dropped out" of society, etc. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Any one theory is plausible, and with the scant evidence a case can be made for any number of viable scenarios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The thing that sticks with me is how can they be gone for 11 days before they are reported missing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sure, they live a carefree lifestyle and he owns his own biz and works from home, and I know those types. &amp;nbsp;They're on their own schedule and live life according to different rules. &amp;nbsp;But 11 days? &amp;nbsp;That's a long time for most anyone to be completely missing, especially a couple with a thriving business, two small children, and family living nearby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;If my hubby, our kids and I went missing, I wonder how long it would be before someone noticed? &amp;nbsp;How about you? &amp;nbsp;How long would it take?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I would say probably 2 or 3 days. &amp;nbsp;But different from the McStays, my hubby has a job and his boss would be concerned. &amp;nbsp;He would start making calls, or have someone come by. &amp;nbsp;The neighbors would just think we were out of town, so I doubt they'd notice we were unduly absent. &amp;nbsp;If I would fail to show up for a meeting with a friend, that would send up a red flag. &amp;nbsp;My absence on my social networks would be noticed. &amp;nbsp;We home school, so the kids wouldn't be absent from school. &amp;nbsp;I'm just thinking out loud here...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;On further thought, maybe it would be more than a few days, maybe a week. &amp;nbsp;I'd say about 7 days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;This is interesting to ponder. &amp;nbsp;How long would it take for a person to be absent from life before anyone noticed? &amp;nbsp;Before anyone came by the house or called the police...?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Here's the link to the tv site: &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://investigation.discovery.com/tv/disappeared/the-missing/summer-joseph-mcstay.html"&gt;http://investigation.discovery.com/tv/disappeared/the-missing/summer-joseph-mcstay.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Here the link to a blogger who is also interested in the McStays:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://joebrainardspajamas.blogspot.com/2011/12/did-summer-mcstay-suffer-from-paranoid.html"&gt;http://joebrainardspajamas.blogspot.com/2011/12/did-summer-mcstay-suffer-from-paranoid.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-7535102087120918838?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/7535102087120918838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=7535102087120918838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7535102087120918838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7535102087120918838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/12/missing-mcstays.html' title='The Missing McStays'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-7636236770098406101</id><published>2011-12-21T17:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T09:56:26.578-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Steinbeck'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sweet Thursday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reading classics'/><title type='text'>John Steinbeck</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Thanks to my sister-in-law I have Sirius XM in my car. &amp;nbsp;I happened upon a reading on the Book Channel of John Steinbeck's&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Sweet Thursday,&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;his sequel to&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Cannery Row. &lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;Here is a taste for you:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Doc walked on the beach beyond the lighthouse. &amp;nbsp;The waves splashed white beside him and sometimes basted his ankles. &amp;nbsp;The sandpipers ran ahead of him as though on little wheels. &amp;nbsp;The golden afternoon moved on toward China, and on the horizon's edge a lumber schooner balanced."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;What a delightful morsel. &amp;nbsp;I want more. &amp;nbsp;I want to read this--not listen to it--so I can savor the turns of phrase and re-read the little gems over and again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;This writing excites me. &amp;nbsp;It envelopes me into the story like folding sugar into egg whites of divinity. &amp;nbsp;It's an Edward Hopper painting set to words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, I'm endeavoring to read those Steinbeck novels that didn't make it into English class. &amp;nbsp;I wasn't sure where to start, and hubby said, start at the beginning. &amp;nbsp;Logical minds will do that. &amp;nbsp;I'm not sure I'm that logical. &amp;nbsp;Which will win out, my OCD or my right brain freeform? &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Something about &lt;i&gt;Sweet Thursday&lt;/i&gt; is speaking to me now, so even though I have yet to read Cannery Row, I just may do that. &amp;nbsp;Or, doing so might nip annoyingly at my need for order.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;More likely my library's book availability will determine the reading sequence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-7636236770098406101?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/7636236770098406101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=7636236770098406101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7636236770098406101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7636236770098406101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/12/john-steinbeck.html' title='John Steinbeck'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-954086888898920717</id><published>2011-12-17T10:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T09:56:59.333-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fantasy vs. reality'/><title type='text'>Fantasy Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Do you ever feel as if you are the outside looking in?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I have felt that way my whole life. &amp;nbsp;Near Christmastime, I would drive along the narrow streets of Highland Park, TX looking into the cozy, candlelit windows of warmth in those beautiful brick homes and want nothing more than to be inside so I could also bake cookies in my kitchen while the kids and hubby played Scrabble by the fire. &amp;nbsp;As I drove along, I'd stare up at the dimly lit trees splattered with mistletoe admonishing God up there somewhere, and then, nearly hitting a parked car, I'd have to pull over and let the angry tears burn my face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;My parents divorced when I was young, and Christmas was never the same. &amp;nbsp;It was always a battle of who got me when, and where and when we'd open presents, have dinner or go to church. &amp;nbsp;No matter how fair I tried to make it, it would never please anyone. &amp;nbsp;Maybe no one could be pleased regardless, I don't know. &amp;nbsp;It wasn't something full of magical anticipation. &amp;nbsp;No holidays were.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I wanted what I finally have now, nearly 20 years later. &amp;nbsp;And, I thank God for this beautiful life every single day. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Kitten and Hubby came back with a Christmas Tree today that she picked out. &amp;nbsp;It's a lovely tree, and fits perfectly in our small living room. &amp;nbsp;Maybe I'll bake some cookies tomorrow. &amp;nbsp;Maybe Hubby and the kids will play a game. &amp;nbsp;It won't be a fantasy: there will be bickering, and shouts of "no fair!" and Hubby will finally yell, "enough!" and the kids will probably walk off in a huff. &amp;nbsp;But, we'll get back together again on the couch to snuggle and watch a Christmas movie with popcorn. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Rarely things in life will meet or exceed our fantasies, but that's because fantasies are rather unrealistic. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;When you're looking in through the window, you merely get a small detail of the entire painting. &amp;nbsp;The fantasy is perfect because the vision is only a fragment. &amp;nbsp;It's also not fulfilling. &amp;nbsp;Real life is much more expansive and enriching because you get the entire picture. &amp;nbsp;It's also sweeter, not for lack of, but rather because of the vinegar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-954086888898920717?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/954086888898920717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=954086888898920717' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/954086888898920717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/954086888898920717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/12/fantasy-family.html' title='Fantasy Family'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-2514398014639308952</id><published>2011-12-16T05:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T05:59:35.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rocket Man VW Passat</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, the new VW Passat commercial uses the song Rocket Man with "average people" singing what they think the words say. &amp;nbsp;It's funny, to be sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I had a friend who worked in the music industry in the 70s with people like Manfred Mann and Elton John. &amp;nbsp;While doing backup for "Blinded By the Light" he said that they asked the singers to purposefully mumble the lyrics. &amp;nbsp;They were supposed to make the words unrecognizable because the industry had found that they sold more "records" when people didn't know what was being said. &amp;nbsp;It added to the longevity of the song. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;In those days, only top 40 songs were played on the radio. &amp;nbsp;You couldn't find older songs played, they were "outdated." &amp;nbsp;So, we listened to the same songs over and over and over again. &amp;nbsp;It wasn't until the 80s that they started having specialty stations in the larger markets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The VW Passat commercial hits on that bit of history. &amp;nbsp;To the Elton John words "burning out his fuse up here alone," (which, really, I have a hard time understanding the red head chick in the ad and had to look it up online) average peeps say things like, "burning out this useless telephone," and "burning up the room with cheap cologne." &amp;nbsp;Hilarious, especially for those of us who lived through it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Who hasn't sung the wrong words to a song? &amp;nbsp;We all have. &amp;nbsp;I wish I could remember some of the lyrics I used to sing. &amp;nbsp;Really funny!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The only thing that strikes me in the commercial is that not one person in the commercial is old enough to remember Rocket Man, or care about the lyrics. &amp;nbsp;Still, it's cute. &amp;nbsp;Here's a link to the ad if you want to see it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWy-LCGDsd8"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bWy-LCGDsd8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-2514398014639308952?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/2514398014639308952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=2514398014639308952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/2514398014639308952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/2514398014639308952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/12/rocket-man-vw-passat.html' title='Rocket Man VW Passat'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-9217159655093544463</id><published>2011-12-15T13:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T05:02:01.679-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welfare Affects Us All</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I've known two people from upper middle class families who were open about being on welfare and receiving aid. &amp;nbsp;They both eventually got off it by going to school, one becoming a therapist and the other a nurse's aid, but the amount of money they received to help them through school by having the state slash their tuition rates to practically nothing, pay for housing and give them EBT cards makes me a bit uncomfortable considering how many people I know today who are in huge debt for student loans. &amp;nbsp;Especially considering their families had means.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Read this blog post. &amp;nbsp;It will make you think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thecollegeconservative.com/2011/12/13/my-time-at-walmart-why-we-need-serious-welfare-reform/#comment-2336"&gt;http://thecollegeconservative.com/2011/12/13/my-time-at-walmart-why-we-need-serious-welfare-reform/#comment-2336&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-9217159655093544463?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/9217159655093544463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=9217159655093544463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/9217159655093544463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/9217159655093544463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/12/welfare-affects-us-all.html' title='Welfare Affects Us All'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5150755086825957571</id><published>2011-12-14T06:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-14T06:40:22.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oyster Stew</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;One of my favorite holiday food traditions is our Christmas Eve oyster stew. &amp;nbsp;My father used to prod us to eat the oysters in mom's buttery broth by wondering aloud which oyster would have the pearl. &amp;nbsp;We all wanted to find a pearl, so we greedily filled our bowls with oysters. &amp;nbsp;Sitting around the festive table glowing with candles and our expectant faces hoping for a pearl was the best part of Christmas. &amp;nbsp;I believe that oyster stew sums up life perfectly: it's the hunt, not the prize that matters most.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5150755086825957571?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5150755086825957571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5150755086825957571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5150755086825957571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5150755086825957571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/12/oyster-stew.html' title='Oyster Stew'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8316203905123096208</id><published>2011-11-28T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T08:11:02.645-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OWS vs. Tea Party Part 2: Cohesion?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I was debating my liberal friend and we found out that we agree. &amp;nbsp;I'm a conservative so this was a shock. &amp;nbsp;She claimed that OWS (Occupy Wall Street) wants the money out of politics, banks reformed, and political monetary perks obliterated. &amp;nbsp;I agree. &amp;nbsp;But, is that what OWS really wants?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm a curious person, so I like to do research &lt;i&gt;sometimes&lt;/i&gt; before I start sputtering at the mouth. &amp;nbsp;A friend of mine posted an article about OWS from the Guardian (yikes!) on fb and I decided to read it. &amp;nbsp;I went in with much trepidation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Here's an excerpt from what the writer Naomi Wolf found OWS to be protesting:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No 1 agenda item: get the money out of politics. Most often cited was legislation to blunt the effect of the Citizens United ruling, which lets boundless sums enter the campaign process.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px 0px 13px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No 2: reform the banking system to prevent fraud and manipulation, with the most frequent item being to restore the Glass-Steagall Act – the Depression-era law, done away with by President Clinton, that separates investment banks from commercial banks. This law would correct the conditions for the recent crisis, as investment banks could not take risks for profit that create kale derivatives out of thin air, and wipe out the commercial and savings banks.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px 0px 13px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No 3 was the most clarifying: draft laws against the little-known loophole that currently allows members of Congress to pass legislation affecting Delaware-based corporations in which&amp;nbsp;&lt;em style="border-collapse: collapse; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;they themselves are investors&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;I heartily agree with every point as written. &amp;nbsp;I'm a conservative, nearly Libertarian, Tea Partier who is now convinced there are stronger wills at work in our government and our media.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;I've been screaming about a biased media for years now along with many loud Conservative voices. &amp;nbsp;Those on the Left have poo-pooed it. &amp;nbsp;But, alas, now the shoe is on the other foot. &amp;nbsp;The bias is against OWS. &amp;nbsp;And, I didn't think so until recently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;The media rushed in at first to gush and love up on the OWS protesters. &amp;nbsp;They were hailed as the Left's very own Tea Party. &amp;nbsp;But, the tides have recently turned. &amp;nbsp;The media outlets have been reporting that OWS doesn't have a cohesive message or vision. &amp;nbsp;News reports now shine light on the rapes, illegal drug use and filthy conditions, not to mention the "tax payer cost" of OWS. &amp;nbsp;Hmmmm. &amp;nbsp;I thought they LOVED the OWS crowd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;What happened?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;When I read accounts of what OWS supposedly wants I find myself in agreement. &amp;nbsp;OWS is a Left movement. &amp;nbsp;Tea Party is a Right movement. &amp;nbsp;Yet, there is much that unites the two. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Now, here I'm going to go a little crazy, and you'll just have to go with it. &amp;nbsp;Seriously, this is going to sound bizarre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;I believe that both the politicians and the media work in tandem to keep the Liberals and Conservatives mad-hot at each other. &amp;nbsp;They keep us at each other's throats for their personal gain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Now, what would that be?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;For the media, it's money and viewership. &amp;nbsp;MSNBC and Fox News can garner precious ad dollars by vehemently fighting the other side. &amp;nbsp;Plus, politicians have wooed the media the way the USC (Univ. So. Cal.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;football program woos ESPN. &amp;nbsp;And, if there is Left bias, it's that the Left has done a better job of media manipulation. &amp;nbsp;I wouldn't call the media a State run institution, not yet, but the Right is catching up and when they do, then we'll all be in trouble. &amp;nbsp;What may be a win now for Liberals will soon be a lose for all Americans.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;For the politicians, it's distraction. &amp;nbsp;If they keep the Left and the Right in war with each other then we can't see what they're doing. &amp;nbsp;What they're really doing. &amp;nbsp;We can't see the sweet backroom dealings, monies exchanging hands, their profiting from insider information, and all the other ways politicians increase their networths by utilizing public service for personal gain. &amp;nbsp;They keep us busy bickering over our differences while they've just made another cool million.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Here's the deal. &amp;nbsp;Yes, I'm prone to conspiracy theories, but I firmly believe that when you travel the money trail it will lead you to a culprit. &amp;nbsp;The lust of money is the root of all evil. &amp;nbsp;Follow the money and you will discover truth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Please don't take my word for it. &amp;nbsp;Please don't jump to your own pre-recorded conclusions about what you know of the Left or the Right. &amp;nbsp;Please stop identifying yourself as a Conservative or Liberal for a few precious moments and do research on your own. &amp;nbsp;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;tay balanced, stay neutral and see what you unearth.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;You are more than a tag line for a political party. &amp;nbsp;You are more than a drone in a sea of people fighting for their chosen brand of justice. &amp;nbsp;You have an amazing mind that can move beyond the hype and the (pardon me) crap you've been spoon fed. &amp;nbsp;Step out of that box for a little bit and see what you can find.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Invest in yourself, your family and friends, and your country. &amp;nbsp;Partake of neutral, truth-seeking research. &amp;nbsp;Read both sides--no matter how painful. &amp;nbsp;Gather facts. &amp;nbsp;Look at data. &amp;nbsp;See what's really going on in this country. &amp;nbsp;It will probably rock your world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Here's the link to the Guardian article: &lt;a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/cifamerica/2011/nov/25/shocking-truth-about-crackdown-occupy"&gt;http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/cifamerica/2011/nov/25/shocking-truth-about-crackdown-occupy&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8316203905123096208?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8316203905123096208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8316203905123096208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8316203905123096208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8316203905123096208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/11/ows-vs-tea-party-part-2-cohesion.html' title='OWS vs. Tea Party Part 2: Cohesion?'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-1992057395373144372</id><published>2011-11-27T14:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T17:52:25.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>NBA: National Billionaire Argument</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Let me be clear, I'm not a basketball fan. &amp;nbsp;I feel any game is only worth watching for the final 3 minutes, and then only if it's close. &amp;nbsp;My ire rises each March as my favorite news radio shows are shelved in favor of the sound of squeaking rubber shoes and bouncing balls on a wooden floor. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, I go into the NBA lockout debacle with&lt;i&gt; at the least&lt;/i&gt; a disinterested demeanor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I just finished reading an article stating that Americans are ticked off at the Billionaires squabbling with Millionaires over dinero. &amp;nbsp;Really? &amp;nbsp;In this economy, who would've thunk it? &amp;nbsp;(&lt;i&gt;That's called sarcasm.&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The jobs lost, the paychecks diminished and the businesses affected by this money showdown display just how self-centered these princesses can be. &amp;nbsp;I'm personally disgusted that a vendor who relies on NBA games to earn his or her living has to now rely on foodstamps to get through the winter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The players and owners only thought of themselves. &amp;nbsp;They never once thought about that man or woman who would suffer great financial setbacks due to the lockout. &amp;nbsp;They never once thought about that person making single digit percentages of what they make. &amp;nbsp;They never once thought of anyone but themselves and increasing their own bank accounts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ego runs our world. &amp;nbsp;Ego ruins our world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-1992057395373144372?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/1992057395373144372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=1992057395373144372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1992057395373144372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1992057395373144372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/11/nba-national-billionaire-argument.html' title='NBA: National Billionaire Argument'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8642507374118252349</id><published>2011-11-26T10:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T05:22:52.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seek First To Understand</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;Thanks, Dr. Covey, that's a good habit. &amp;nbsp;Seek first to understand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;We need to understand, clearly and correctly, before we start bellowing into our own bullhorns.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;I posted this excerpt from my last post on FB:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;Sometimes it's easier just to use the old standbys. &amp;nbsp;We all have them. &amp;nbsp;An issue arises, say the death penalty, gay marriage, abortion, taxes, social programs, you name it, and we simply play the recorder in our heads. &amp;nbsp;We are firm on the issue and we speak our written script, dismissing the ideas of others and blockading our own ability to reassess. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;This can be good and it can be bad. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;It can be good because when we've made a decision on a particular issue, we don't waffle based on the latest or loudest argument. &amp;nbsp;We can stay firm in our most core beliefs.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;b style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;However, it can be bad because what if we need to hear a new thought on the subject? &amp;nbsp;What if we made up our minds on that subject in youth or before we had all the information we have today? &amp;nbsp;We are continually learning, growing, maturing, regardless of our age. &amp;nbsp;I keep telling my kids that learning is not just at school and it never ends; it's a lifelong process.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; color: #636363; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;People thought this was akin to inviting them to get up on their own soapboxes and tell me either publicly or in a private message exactly why they are "against" or "for" gay marriage, death penalty, abortion, etc. you name it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;Let me be blunt: I don't care. &amp;nbsp;My point was not to give my peeps an outlet for their preconceived ideas. &amp;nbsp;My point was exactly the OPPOSITE! &amp;nbsp;It was to make them THINK about the other side of the argument to which&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;they so steadfastly adhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;And, maybe, with a little THOUGHT and a lot less sputtering, we can all quietly examine our beliefs, core or otherwise. &amp;nbsp;And maybe that will make our beliefs stronger. &amp;nbsp;Or maybe that will open a door for us to join the other side that we've demonized for so long. &amp;nbsp;Or maybe it will only (but importantly) give us an opportunity to think a bit, to examine clearly and carefully our beliefs and why we hold them dear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;I had a friend who was adamantly for a woman's right to choose. &amp;nbsp;And, I was helping him become a Christian. &amp;nbsp;And, I didn't fight him over it, but I asked him to think about it because I believe that you cannot be FOR abortion and FOR the death penalty when God was pretty clear about the 6th Commandment: "You shall not murder."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;My friend thought about it and came to the realization that it was his mother's core belief, not his own. &amp;nbsp;She believed in a woman's right to choose for very concrete reasons. &amp;nbsp;He understood that he was carrying HER belief, not his own, as a flag of honor. &amp;nbsp;In grasping that concept he was able to disown the belief and research his own views on the subject. &amp;nbsp;He came up with his OWN belief. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;I won't tell you what it is because it doesn't matter what side he chose, the important part is that he made up his own mind. &amp;nbsp;He spent time talking to his mentor and others that he respected and looked into what information was available on both sides of the issues. &amp;nbsp;Then, he came up with his own viewpoint.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;And that's not to say that it won't change. &amp;nbsp;Or it should. &amp;nbsp;But it might. &amp;nbsp;And, is that bad if we're continually growing, learning and developing as we should?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;The 24/7 news channels and explosive talk shows don't allow for examination of our beliefs, changes in thought, or adapting to new information. &amp;nbsp;The one who screams loudest wins! &amp;nbsp;The one who gets the audience on their side wins! &amp;nbsp;The one who has the most camera time wins!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;We need less winners and more philosophers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;And, what we DESPERATELY need more of is quiet. &amp;nbsp;We can't listen when our mouths are open and a dozen people are trying to shout us down. &amp;nbsp;We need time to think, closed mouths to hear, and prayerful introspection of our core values to understand why we hold them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;Seek first to understand. &amp;nbsp;Gather. &amp;nbsp;Research. &amp;nbsp;Listen. &amp;nbsp;THEN, tell me exactly what you believe and why.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8642507374118252349?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8642507374118252349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8642507374118252349' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8642507374118252349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8642507374118252349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/11/seek-first-to-understand.html' title='Seek First To Understand'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-1717974543893864996</id><published>2011-11-23T05:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T05:55:26.662-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Struggling</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sometimes it's easier just to use the old standbys. &amp;nbsp;We all have them. &amp;nbsp;An issue arises, say the death penalty, gay marriage, abortion, taxes, social programs, you name it, and we simply play the recorder in our heads. &amp;nbsp;We are firm on the issue and we speak our written script, dismissing the ideas of others and blockading our own ability to reassess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;This can be good and it can be bad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It can be good because when we've made a decision on a particular issue, we don't waffle based on the latest or loudest argument. &amp;nbsp;We can stay firm in our most core beliefs. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;However, it can be bad because what if we need to hear a new thought on the subject? &amp;nbsp;What if we made up our minds on that subject in youth or before we had all the information we have today? &amp;nbsp;We are continually learning, growing, maturing, regardless of our age. &amp;nbsp;I keep telling my kids that learning is not just at school and it never ends; it's a lifelong process.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, again this morning I was confronted with an issue of mine I normally dismiss. &amp;nbsp;I am against missionaries. &lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;I know, I'm a heathen.&lt;/i&gt; &amp;nbsp;But, here's my reasoning. &amp;nbsp;I believe so much in "teaching a man to fish" that I believe that we should have missionaries teaching natives in-country to proselytize. &amp;nbsp;Not interlopers moving in and leading the band, but residents spearheading the process. &amp;nbsp;To me, missionaries should engage in only temporary, end-in-sight duties.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I have this fringe friend who is a missionary in Haiti. &amp;nbsp;Awesome barely begins to describe her and her family. &amp;nbsp;They are amazingly cool people with such strength and faith that it makes me melt. &amp;nbsp;And, they live in Haiti. &amp;nbsp;And they've adopted Haitian kids. &amp;nbsp;And they plan to stay there. &amp;nbsp;Haiti is home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;A few weeks ago they were robbed. &amp;nbsp;At gun point. &amp;nbsp;In the middle of the night. &amp;nbsp;Scary doesn't quite describe the terror they went through. I was like, get out! &amp;nbsp;Get out! &amp;nbsp;Get out! &amp;nbsp;And, they stayed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Recently it's gotten worse there, and finally they made the agonizing decision to break up the family. &amp;nbsp;She left with the little ones, and he stayed behind with the kids who lacked travel papers. &amp;nbsp;They are separated, and to them it will be temporary, until things calm down in Haiti. &amp;nbsp;And, I'm thinking, yeah, things will never be calm in Haiti...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, I struggle with thinking that they need to be out of Haiti, that they shouldn't live there, that they are foolish to put their children's lives and their own at risk, and yet simultaneously knowing they are making a concrete difference in God's children's lives. &amp;nbsp;I struggle with wondering how much of their own ego is tied up in what they do, how much is tied into selfishness of elevated status in church circles, yet I know they live in a hell hole there compared to here, that their lives are sickeningly tough and most of us would fail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I struggle with at once holding two thoughts in my head: they are fools and they are saints. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I do have to state clearly and emphatically that I do NOT struggle with praying for them, loving on them, giving them my good thoughts and highest hopes for safety and success. &amp;nbsp;I do all that willingly and with an open heart because I can rise above my issues to love on people. &amp;nbsp;We are all God's children.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I struggle with my own conceptions, whether correct or false, regarding missionaries and their divine calling. &amp;nbsp;It comes to light with every crisis this family goes through. &amp;nbsp;I wrestle with my own thoughts on the subject. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, please don't tell me to read a book about a missionary's account, because my problem with missionaries is not the people themselves. &amp;nbsp;Or the people whose lives they touch. &amp;nbsp;Or the wonderful work they do. &amp;nbsp;Or the sharing of Christ. &amp;nbsp;It's not the good they do, trust me, I can see the good works.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I struggle with trusting the ability of foreigners to make radical changes in countries where locals cannot or will not. &amp;nbsp;I struggle with the process and definition. &amp;nbsp;I struggle with thinking that missionaries are delusional in believing they can create a utopia in hell. &amp;nbsp;I struggle with the parental directive to ensure the safety of one's own children. &amp;nbsp;I struggle with Kum-ba-yah sung around a campfire and missionaries in Jehova Witness' skirts taking care of the "little black babies." &amp;nbsp;I struggle with a lot of my own prejudice against rigid church standards and freakish adherence to literal Biblical verse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I struggle with loving people and not understanding what they do, and thinking they could be doing harm but since everyone supports them, then how can they be doing harm, and if any action saves just one person is it worth it, even if you lose everything else?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sigh.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I struggle. &amp;nbsp;And, I pray. &amp;nbsp;And, I try to rethink my "solid" beliefs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-1717974543893864996?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/1717974543893864996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=1717974543893864996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1717974543893864996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1717974543893864996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/11/struggling.html' title='Struggling'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4821405367751161775</id><published>2011-11-14T13:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T13:17:41.533-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Occupy Wall Street Movement vs. Tea Party Events</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Mainstream Media is simply going Lady GaGa over Occupy Wall Street (OWS). &amp;nbsp;FINALLY, they have their own Tea Party-ish movement to blather on about and gush overtly over! &amp;nbsp;Talk about hormone-crazed teenagers running amok with few facts and misplaced bubbling excitement--oh, I'm talking about the press here, not OWS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The title of this post is a conundrum, you can't really categorize OWS as an organized movement like the Tea Party. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Really, the Tea Party is a group of people coming together with a united goal of smaller government intervention. &amp;nbsp;It's many people with a central idea using organized public events to make a point. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;While, OWS is an organization, specifically an offshoot of ACORN, gathering a group of people to do their bidding. &amp;nbsp;In other words, it's a few people with some central themes&amp;nbsp;corralling&amp;nbsp;the useful masses to their own end. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Tea Partiers have events, OWS'ers sleep on the street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I can see where the Mainstream Media are so confused. &amp;nbsp;They don't understand that Tea Party Events END. &amp;nbsp;They have start and finish times. &amp;nbsp;They have a central theme. &amp;nbsp;They have organized speakers with stages and microphones. &amp;nbsp;The audience leaves no trash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;OWS goes on and on. &amp;nbsp;It has no end. &amp;nbsp;There is no central theme, no focus. &amp;nbsp;The only organization are buses provided (by an ACORN offshoot) to take them to another site when necessary. &amp;nbsp;There is no stage, only the loudest bullhorn of the moment. &amp;nbsp;The OWS'ers wallow in their own trash.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Yes, that is very confusing to the press that would prefer the two be equal, just different sides of the issue. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Tea Party and OWS are not equal. &amp;nbsp;They cannot be correlated. &amp;nbsp;One is a political movement, and the other a media circus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4821405367751161775?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4821405367751161775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4821405367751161775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4821405367751161775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4821405367751161775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/11/occupy-wall-street-movement-vs-tea.html' title='Occupy Wall Street Movement vs. Tea Party Events'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-3945250650048514027</id><published>2011-11-07T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T15:40:40.141-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Herman Cain Sexual Harassment Scandal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;If you were an adult in the business world 20+ years ago, then you remember the insanity of "Sexual Harassment." &amp;nbsp;It was crazy. &amp;nbsp;If you were a man you remember the fear. &amp;nbsp;If you were a woman, you remember prickling at every whisper, picture and joke.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I remember what it was like all those years ago in the heady days of sexual harassment allegations against every deep pocket in America. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;We trained staff, we held seminars, we assumed guilt before innocence, and so many top heads, eager to get their names out of the newspaper or off the water cooler radar paid off their "victims" replete with non-disclosure contracts rather than fight their innocence. &amp;nbsp;All a man had to do was sneeze and a woman desiring a little more spending money could sue and earn her way to a better car, a nicer home or a new wardrobe. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate that the girly calendars and off-color humor were eradicated from the workplace. &amp;nbsp;However, I also personally know of numerous bogus cases that did damage and resulted in ill-gotten gains.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Herman Cain's "scandal" isn't so much a scandal as it is a time capsule. &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;How can we continually judge people in the past based on current knowledge? &amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Herman Cain may be guilty or may not be guilty of something. &amp;nbsp;It doesn't matter. &amp;nbsp;The debate was settled decades ago to everyone's satisfaction, and unless THERE IS A CLEAR PATTERN of bad behavior since, then we need to put this issue to bed. &amp;nbsp;Um, but not in THAT way...you know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-3945250650048514027?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/3945250650048514027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=3945250650048514027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3945250650048514027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3945250650048514027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/11/herman-cain-sexual-harassment-scandal.html' title='Herman Cain Sexual Harassment Scandal'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-142450859625198542</id><published>2011-11-02T05:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-02T05:39:11.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Occupy Wall Street Scam</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, you're mad at the bank that loaned you the money to overspend on education loans to get a worthless degree?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Seriously?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Let's remember who's at fault. &amp;nbsp;There are two bodies at which to be mad, but neither is a Big Bank or Financial Institution.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;#1 YOU! &amp;nbsp;You signed the documents. &amp;nbsp;You initiated the loan. &amp;nbsp;You assumed the debt. &amp;nbsp;You are to blame.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;#2 UNIVERSITIES! &amp;nbsp;They came up with worthless degrees that do not correspond with actual workplace jobs. &amp;nbsp;If your degree comprises the studying of social issues then your chances for working at a competitive wage are not only diminished but may be non-existent. &amp;nbsp;Companies want real degrees with real purpose. &amp;nbsp;They want laser beam focus of curriculum related to job duties. &amp;nbsp;Universities hand out pieces of graduation paper but do not give direction for acquiring post-degree employment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Let's put the blame where it firmly belongs, with the people doing the most damage: Students taking on enormous debt without thought to how they will pay it off, and Universities designing curriculum with little regard to the actual needs of employers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-142450859625198542?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/142450859625198542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=142450859625198542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/142450859625198542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/142450859625198542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/11/occupy-wall-street-scam.html' title='Occupy Wall Street Scam'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-620903979184046784</id><published>2011-08-10T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T12:59:54.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back After Summer Break, and Scared for the USA!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Well, here I am back after a lovely summer break...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, I'm scared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm scared for our country. &amp;nbsp;I see the protests in Greece and the rioting in London and I wonder when we'll sink to that level. &amp;nbsp;We're on our way there, you know. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Here's the problem: government cannot support people, only people can support people. &amp;nbsp;Programs can't be the answer, people have to be the answer. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;We have trained a generation of workers here, and for a longer time in more Socialized Europe, that you don't need to strive, or work hard or worry about falling through the cracks because the government will support you. &amp;nbsp;They will "come along side" you and offer a hand up. &amp;nbsp;Only problem is that "hand up" turns into a "hand out" and pretty soon a temporary safety net turns into a permanent benefit. &amp;nbsp;And that permanent benefit morphs into a "right" and then, near the end of it all, when people feel their "rights" are being taken away from them, they fight back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;That's what's going on in Europe. &amp;nbsp;That's what's going to happen here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;There is no way to prepare for it. &amp;nbsp;Our politicians are useless. &amp;nbsp;Both sides of the aisle proved that when they threw the needs the United States as a whole into the trash bin and got us a AA+ credit rating, the first time in history the USA hasn't been a AAA+.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Dow is falling. &amp;nbsp;Again. &amp;nbsp;Any gains yesterday were lost today. &amp;nbsp;Minutes to the bell and it's down 500 pts. &amp;nbsp;Your IRA and 401K and stocks are worth less and may soon be worthless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I have friends hoarding food. &amp;nbsp;I have friends burying ammunition on their property. &amp;nbsp;I have other friends screaming for union rights and socialized medicine. &amp;nbsp;I think the grocery stashers and arsenal diggers may be more sane than my Liberal friends who can't seem to see reality no matter how clearly it's spelled out for them. &amp;nbsp;I am ceasing to feel sorry for my Liberal friends, whom I truly love, I really do (!!) but they are beyond misguided...they are blind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Even an agenda-pushing press can't sugarcoat what's happening. &amp;nbsp;Liberal Socialist policies cannot work. &amp;nbsp;People have to work!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, I'm scared and waiting. &amp;nbsp;Waiting to see where it hits here first.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-620903979184046784?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/620903979184046784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=620903979184046784' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/620903979184046784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/620903979184046784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/08/back-after-summer-break-and-scared-for.html' title='Back After Summer Break, and Scared for the USA!'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8257239028602436288</id><published>2011-05-23T11:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T11:50:47.785-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Free Speech is Dead on College Campuses!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Click Here:&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://worth-reading-blog.blogspot.com/2011/05/liberal-students-sign-petition-to-ban.html"&gt;Banning Conservative Speech, But Not "Free Speech!"  Harumph!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Check out this link above. &amp;nbsp;You will amazed at the double standard on our college campuses! &amp;nbsp;The kids and profs rally to sign a petition banning conservative talk show hosts while proclaiming they support Free Speech.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Many of us have been saying this for a long time, that this is what students are being taught: Free Speech is only acceptable when it's "approved" speech. &amp;nbsp;Differing points of view are simply not recognized as Free Speech.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Liberal points of view are the only acceptable Free Speech allowed, and anything that goes against Liberal thinking is not only wrong, but should be banned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;We are headed down a very sad road. &amp;nbsp;I'm sorry to say that the Thought Police have grown generations of intolerant Liberals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Conservatives have a simple view: build up their fellow man. &amp;nbsp;Liberals have a simple view: prop up their fellow man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Now, why must we ban Conservatives who wish to promote self-worth in our fellow man through hard work and ability to succeed? &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I wish more people understood the "teach a man to fish vs. give a man a fish" proverb. &amp;nbsp;We really would make this country great if we lived by this. &amp;nbsp;And in doing so, we would have ample resources to share with the world, and then build them up as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8257239028602436288?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8257239028602436288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8257239028602436288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8257239028602436288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8257239028602436288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/05/banning-conservative-speech-but-not.html' title='Free Speech is Dead on College Campuses!'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-353981434029556205</id><published>2011-05-17T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T05:23:45.088-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mucking Things Up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Economists Timothy Conley and Bill Dupor are out with a study on the impact of Obama's $800B Stimulus Package.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Results in a nutshell: The pkg created or saved 450,000 government jobs, and forestalled or destroyed 1,000,000 private sector jobs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Have you read Ayn Rand lately?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;We are headed down a path of destruction for this country if we continue to hire people in the public arena and don't foster job growth in private industry. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Department of Labor noted that 244,000 jobs were created in March 2011. &amp;nbsp;The Meeedia (and I use that term with much sarcasm) called it "surprising strong" and "better than expected." &amp;nbsp;HA! &amp;nbsp;Robert Reich the noted economist has said that the US needs to add 300,000 jobs every month for five years (that's 5 yrs!) just to get unemployment under 6%.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The problem is that Americans need to look at facts not talking points. &amp;nbsp;We need to look at numbers not politician's smiling faces. &amp;nbsp;We need to look at statistics and real data not simply tow our political lines.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am disgusted with BOTH parties right now, Republican and Democrat because the politicians' focus is on their mirrors not on us average Americans!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;We need MORE than a Tea Party movement. &amp;nbsp;We need a Bi-Partisan Movement Enacting Term Limits to get these career politicians out of their plush arrangements and get some real workers in there to do what's best for ALL of us!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Unfortunately, they keep us at war with one another to distract us into thinking we need to WIN! &amp;nbsp;We have to beat the other side. &amp;nbsp;Our side is best! &amp;nbsp;Our side rules! &amp;nbsp;We won the election! &amp;nbsp;We're on the winning team!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;But, it's just distraction. &amp;nbsp;So, we don't see what their left hands are doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-353981434029556205?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/353981434029556205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=353981434029556205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/353981434029556205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/353981434029556205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/05/mucking-things-up.html' title='Mucking Things Up!'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4130562584232776983</id><published>2011-05-06T04:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T04:54:41.878-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Manipulation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Anna's class for our homeschool co-op was to be on stage to sing a song.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Anna: I have stage fright, I'm not going to do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Me: Oh, mommy and daddy will be disappointed not to be proud of you on stage. (Yes, parental manipulation!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Anna: Well, maybe I could close my eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Me: That sounds like a good idea.&amp;nbsp; You do it if you want to.&amp;nbsp; (If I manipulate them into something, I always offer an out.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, she was up on stage last night singing her song.&amp;nbsp; And, we were proud parents.&amp;nbsp; Who forgot the camera, but took pictures in our minds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4130562584232776983?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4130562584232776983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4130562584232776983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4130562584232776983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4130562584232776983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/05/manipulation.html' title='Manipulation'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5195942528342882217</id><published>2011-04-26T04:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T09:50:50.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Purging</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Purging can be freeing and wildly difficult.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm getting rid of stuff that's become clutter but it's hard.&amp;nbsp; With many items I have to break the emotional bond I've created with the piece in order to sell it, give it away or simply toss it.&amp;nbsp; If you're like me, you understand, you have a connection with a coffee cup or a desk or a figurine, and it's real and tangible like a relationship.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;With some things they're easy to keep, the desk my grandpa made in the 1920's, or my grandma's chocolate set.&amp;nbsp; Things I really can't find a place for in my home, but, man, to get rid of them would be pure sacrilege.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Other stuff I just like.&amp;nbsp; The great lines on a piece of furniture that takes up valuable square footage in my smallish house.&amp;nbsp; And, some things to which I've just grown accustomed.&amp;nbsp; They've always been around, and so they will continue to be around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But, I need to make some major changes.&amp;nbsp; The liklihood of us moving are dimmer and dimmer.&amp;nbsp; So, I need to really make this place my home, not just my 5 year house where I store my stuff until we move.&amp;nbsp; (Which is how I've been living for&amp;nbsp;8&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;years now.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm purging.&amp;nbsp; And, fretting about purging.&amp;nbsp; And, trying to figure out how to get rid of this stuff that I've accumulated and no longer need or use.&amp;nbsp; It starts with cutting the emotional bonds I've made with the things.&amp;nbsp; I need to set them free so I can be free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5195942528342882217?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5195942528342882217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5195942528342882217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5195942528342882217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5195942528342882217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/04/purging.html' title='Purging'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8232091115891294273</id><published>2011-04-13T05:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T05:28:00.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beach House 2006-2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"&gt;They grew up here...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mBDLyLzXkOQ/TaWNhZ7scJI/AAAAAAAAAII/wy3IOMo_ink/s320/P4020044.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"&gt;The kids at my parent's Beach House, April 2007.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YjVfZgCnNj0/TaWOjGK_WiI/AAAAAAAAAIM/w4jwuIzYDhw/s1600/DSC_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" r6="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YjVfZgCnNj0/TaWOjGK_WiI/AAAAAAAAAIM/w4jwuIzYDhw/s320/DSC_0003.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #351c75; font-size: large;"&gt;Our last trip to my parent's Beach House, April 2011.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: #b45f06; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A lifetime of memories.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;I think it's interesting that the first pic was taken in the early morning, and the last pic was taken in the evening, just before dinner.&amp;nbsp; In one, the&amp;nbsp;Beach House&amp;nbsp;was new to us, full of&amp;nbsp;hope for many fun vacations and special times there visiting Grampa and Gramma in&amp;nbsp;the upcoming&amp;nbsp;the years.&amp;nbsp; You can see the early pink sky and pale light cast on the pond while the kids, wearing their pj's, watch the sea birds come to eat their breakfast fish.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In the other, you can sense the day&amp;nbsp;ending.&amp;nbsp; See how the&amp;nbsp;kids&amp;nbsp;are drawn together, touching at the shoulders, leaning into one another,&amp;nbsp;expressing a closeness to each other and their surroundings.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Long shadows dominate the&amp;nbsp;scene as the sun makes it's&amp;nbsp;way&amp;nbsp;westward&amp;nbsp;mimicking our goodbye.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #444444;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;"&gt;And, the&amp;nbsp;bright sunny days on the beach fade off into the sunset.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank you,&amp;nbsp;Grampa and Gramma&amp;nbsp;for many wonderful years and&amp;nbsp;a lifetime of memories!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f6b26b; color: #666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f6b26b; color: #666666;"&gt;﻿&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8232091115891294273?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8232091115891294273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8232091115891294273' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8232091115891294273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8232091115891294273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/04/beach-house-2005-2011.html' title='Beach House 2006-2011'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mBDLyLzXkOQ/TaWNhZ7scJI/AAAAAAAAAII/wy3IOMo_ink/s72-c/P4020044.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8762577006791039046</id><published>2011-04-04T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T04:55:07.314-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Biker Dudes and Rich Old Broads</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I've always had the ability to befriend just about anyone.&amp;nbsp; I don't mean that in an egotistical way, I mean I just don't "have a problem" with too many people.&amp;nbsp; I could be friends with nearly everyone.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Of course, "nearly everyone" doesn't necessarily want to be friends with me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I used to be offended by that, but then I realized that most people have standards.&amp;nbsp; I don't have many standards when it comes to other people.&amp;nbsp; I'm fascinated by the differences in all of us.&amp;nbsp; However, mostly people want to hang out with those who are like them.&amp;nbsp; They like similarities not differences.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;To each his own.&amp;nbsp; But, I also feel sorry for those people.&amp;nbsp; I mean, what fun is it to hang out with carbon copies of themselves?&amp;nbsp; I wouldn't want to spend time with a clone of me.&amp;nbsp; I'm not that interesting.&amp;nbsp; Maybe that's why&amp;nbsp;"nearly everyone" doesn't want to be my friend--ha!&amp;nbsp; And, I'm okay with that, but give me a rich old broad, a biker&amp;nbsp;dude, an uptight accountant&amp;nbsp;and a&amp;nbsp;pitcher of Margs and I'll show you&amp;nbsp;the best night of your life.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Maybe I--and others like me--are not the abnormal ones.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Maybe if&amp;nbsp;more&amp;nbsp;"nearly everyones" just&amp;nbsp;eased out of their comfort zones and befriended someone totally different than themselves, they'd discover that we're really not so different.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;My husband quoted Shakespeare last night (yes,&lt;em&gt; gasp!&lt;/em&gt; in and&amp;nbsp;of itself), but I noted that&amp;nbsp;the line he spoke was&amp;nbsp;written&amp;nbsp;over 400 years ago, in English,&amp;nbsp;and it's still true today.&amp;nbsp; Human experience is universal.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sure, our packages, our expressions, and our demeanors are different,&amp;nbsp;but we still love, laugh,&amp;nbsp;grieve and seethe.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Humans are the same wherever they may be, and no one is better than another.&amp;nbsp; We are on an&amp;nbsp;equal playing field, and&amp;nbsp;if some of&amp;nbsp;our&amp;nbsp;species wants to pretend that&amp;nbsp;they&amp;nbsp;have something that lifts them above others, whether it be race, religion,&amp;nbsp;talents, money, position, power, or whatnot, then they are&amp;nbsp;just lying to themselves.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;We&amp;nbsp;are more alike than we are different.&amp;nbsp; Go ahead, I'd say to those people, stretch yourself, reach out to others, not to&amp;nbsp;serve them (as in I'm serving the poor), not to experiement with them (as in I'll regard them but not interact with them), but&amp;nbsp;to really see them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8762577006791039046?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8762577006791039046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8762577006791039046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8762577006791039046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8762577006791039046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/04/biker-dudes-and-rich-old-broads.html' title='Biker Dudes and Rich Old Broads'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8282430351411394631</id><published>2011-04-01T05:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T05:31:38.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dysfunctional Friendship</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;This post is temporarily unavailable. Please continuing reading other posts in this blog&amp;nbsp;until the problem is resolved.&amp;nbsp; Thank you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8282430351411394631?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8282430351411394631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8282430351411394631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8282430351411394631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8282430351411394631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/04/dysfunctional-friendship.html' title='Dysfunctional Friendship'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4758771996350164109</id><published>2011-03-31T04:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T04:43:18.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Current Address: Funeral Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am quite troubled that it is easier to find an obituary of a long lost friend than it is to find a current address.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Here's what happened.&amp;nbsp; Some old high school chums and I have reconnected on Facebook.&amp;nbsp; It's been a blast, and we're all about the same except for the wrinkles and a few extra pounds.&amp;nbsp; One chum, Vicky, kept asking where Becky was, and did anyone know what happened to her.&amp;nbsp; Search after search revealed nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Then, just recently Vicky Googled/White-Paged/you-name-it&amp;nbsp;Becky's name&amp;nbsp;again and found her obituary.&amp;nbsp; I mean, WTF, right?&amp;nbsp; We tried and tried to&amp;nbsp;get a hold of her while she&amp;nbsp;was alive, then whamo!&amp;nbsp;she&amp;nbsp;dies and suddenly&amp;nbsp;we can find her quite easily.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The worst part of the whole horrific experience&amp;nbsp;for me was that&amp;nbsp;while reading her&amp;nbsp;obit I found out that her brother, my friend, had preceded her in death.&amp;nbsp; Talk about a sucker punch!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Let's just say Tuesday night was not the best night of my week/month/year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;You think you're gonna have fun on fb, you think you're gonna meet up with old chums, you think you're gonna connect.&amp;nbsp; But, you aren't prepared for the other side of the coin.&amp;nbsp; You don't think about death with fb.&amp;nbsp; You don't worry about finding an obit.&amp;nbsp; And, I blame memory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Memories of our friends remain static.&amp;nbsp; They remain today as they were then.&amp;nbsp; They were our chums, young and fresh, and we laughed and cried and went through puberty together.&amp;nbsp; We told secrets and knew that our&amp;nbsp;friendships would never die.&amp;nbsp; We thought we would grow up and live&amp;nbsp;next&amp;nbsp;door to each other, and our children would play together and we'd have BBQ's in the backyard and it would be a freakin' 60's sitcom.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But,&amp;nbsp;life is different than a teenager can imagine it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Teenagers lack the&amp;nbsp;experience and&amp;nbsp;realities of life to&amp;nbsp;project what&amp;nbsp;future will appear for them.&amp;nbsp; That's why Teenagers have such trouble.&amp;nbsp; They look like adults.&amp;nbsp; They act like adults.&amp;nbsp; They think they&amp;nbsp;ARE&amp;nbsp;adults.&amp;nbsp; But, they aren't.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Not even close.&amp;nbsp; They are still children, and they have unrealistic expectations of what life will provide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;In some&amp;nbsp;ways, connecting with my high school chums has led me to think like a teenager&amp;nbsp;while interacting on fb.&amp;nbsp; I've been cavalier.&amp;nbsp; I've been profound.&amp;nbsp; I've been angry.&amp;nbsp; I've&amp;nbsp;had unrealistic expectations&amp;nbsp;of others and our&amp;nbsp;friendships.&amp;nbsp; And, I've thought that everyone&amp;nbsp;just&amp;nbsp;continued as they were in high school, as they&amp;nbsp;were as children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But that isn't true.&amp;nbsp; We all grow up.&amp;nbsp; We become adults.&amp;nbsp; We have lives and our lives take twists and turns, and we find joy&amp;nbsp;and heartbreak in unexpected places.&amp;nbsp; And, we love life, and it's totally different than the life we imagined when we were young and fit into the smaller sizes.&amp;nbsp; But it's our life, and we make the best of it, wherever we are in this world.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But then,&amp;nbsp;some&amp;nbsp;of&amp;nbsp;us die.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4758771996350164109?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4758771996350164109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4758771996350164109' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4758771996350164109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4758771996350164109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/03/current-address-funeral-home.html' title='Current Address: Funeral Home'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-1375438971917520707</id><published>2011-03-29T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T04:43:38.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Islam Means Fear</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;First, let me say that I respect other cultures and religions and I am following my Lord's lead in loving thy neighbor as thyself.&amp;nbsp; Jesus told us to do two things: Love God and Love People.&amp;nbsp; Simple, direct and not-so-easy to follow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Okay, so that's my disclaimer.&amp;nbsp; I have disclaimed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Now, let's get to it.&amp;nbsp; Here's my problem with Muslims.&amp;nbsp; It's not that they practice their religion.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;I'm glad they are free to do so!&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; It's not that they worship Mohammed (though, I feel that's quite misguided given what we know about him).&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;I'm glad they are free to do so!&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; It's not that they want to remain in an enclave.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;I'm glad they are free to do so!&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Nope, it's not any of those things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Here's my problem: It's that they want to &lt;strong&gt;IMPOSE&lt;/strong&gt; their religious views on me, and you, and everyone else on the planet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But, say the Liberal minded, they're just like Christians.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No, no they aren't.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Christians proselytize, we mission, we share our religion with others and we speak out in a legal manner when we feel the need to exercise our freedom of speech.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;HOWEVER, we don't kill for Christ.&amp;nbsp; No one kills for Christ today, in modern society.&amp;nbsp; However, Muslims kill for Mohammed&amp;nbsp;today, in modern society.&amp;nbsp; Muslims kill for not following their religious edicts properly.&amp;nbsp; Muslims kill for not adhering to Sharia Law.&amp;nbsp; Muslims kill non-believers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But, say the Liberal minded,&amp;nbsp;not&amp;nbsp;ALL&amp;nbsp;Muslims, just radical ones, like radical Christians.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Okay, let's break that down into two pieces.&amp;nbsp; First of all,&amp;nbsp;quite FEWER&amp;nbsp;Muslims are speaking out against the radicals than the number of&amp;nbsp;radicals&amp;nbsp;who are committing&amp;nbsp;atrocities.&amp;nbsp; Very few Muslims will say that Sharia Law is wrong here in the US.&amp;nbsp; Very few Muslims will&amp;nbsp;go against&amp;nbsp;what is being&amp;nbsp;preached to them in their Mosques.&amp;nbsp; They may or&amp;nbsp;may not believe&amp;nbsp;the radical teachings, but they stay silent while horrible crimes against humanity are committed.&amp;nbsp; We see it in the news everyday.&amp;nbsp; It's happening here in the US, and it's explosive in the Middle East, Asia&amp;nbsp;and other parts of the world.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Christians speak out against fellow Christians doing wrong.&amp;nbsp; It's part of our our religion to do so.&amp;nbsp; We must, according to our religion, keep our brothers and sisters on the correct path.&amp;nbsp; It's our directive.&amp;nbsp; BUT, and&amp;nbsp;here's where some Christians get&amp;nbsp;off base:&amp;nbsp;it's only for &lt;em&gt;fellow Christians&lt;/em&gt;.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Second, radical Muslims are not like radical Christians.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;One or two nut jobs killing one or two abortion doctors&amp;nbsp;cannot possibly be akin--FOR&amp;nbsp;ANY REASONABLE MIND--to the vast multitudes slain by radical Muslims.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Question, you will be put in a locked room filled with all sorts of weapons. Your hands and feet&amp;nbsp;will be&amp;nbsp;tied,&amp;nbsp;but not those of&amp;nbsp;your companion.&amp;nbsp; You can choose one of two mates: a "radical" Christian desiring to convert you, or a "radical" Muslim who knows you don't believe in Mohammed.&amp;nbsp; Choose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;How could anyone think that "radical" Christians are JUST LIKE "radical" Muslims?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;When I see the pig farmer in Texas harrassed by the Islamic group who knowingly bought property next to him, but now claim that the pig farm is offensive to their Islamic religion, I fear for our society.&amp;nbsp; Because I know that the press will sympathize with the Muslims, and that will impact people's perceptions in a negative way against the pig farmer.&amp;nbsp; (Who has&amp;nbsp;had a pig farm on that property &lt;em&gt;for generations&lt;/em&gt;!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;When I see Canadian and US judges allowing the use of Sharia Law in their courts, I shudder.&amp;nbsp; This is insane!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;To the US judges I say, have you NOT&amp;nbsp;heard about separation of church and state?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;If rational minds do not prevail in these issues, then we are doomed.&amp;nbsp; I'm not saying we need to disallow peoples' right to practice their religion.&amp;nbsp; They are &lt;strong&gt;free&lt;/strong&gt; to be Muslims in the&amp;nbsp;US.&amp;nbsp; They are&lt;strong&gt; free&lt;/strong&gt; to be Muslim.&amp;nbsp; They are &lt;strong&gt;free &lt;/strong&gt;to practice Islam.&amp;nbsp; I'm&amp;nbsp;merely&amp;nbsp;saying we need to be careful.&amp;nbsp; Islam teaches to "convert and&amp;nbsp;overtake, or kill and destroy," and that should scare the living pants off of any rational thinker in our society.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Unfortunately, in the name of PC and Liberalism, it's usually the Christians who are demonized.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;They say&amp;nbsp;Islam means peace.&amp;nbsp; However, I say Islam means fear.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;They control with fear.&amp;nbsp; (If you don't agree with them, they'll&amp;nbsp;threaten you, your children, your family.)&amp;nbsp; They overtake with fear.&amp;nbsp; (They move in and destroy good societies&amp;nbsp;with threats, coercion and domination.)&amp;nbsp; They silence the rational minds in their&amp;nbsp;own religion with fear.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;(If you speak out you're not a true Muslim, and you're a non-believer subject to the punishment of Sharia Law.)&amp;nbsp; They keep the Liberals on their side with fear.&amp;nbsp; (Fear of not being "accepting" or PC enough, fear of being biased, and&amp;nbsp;fear of being aligned with the most hideous of creatures known&amp;nbsp;to a Liberal:&amp;nbsp;"Christian&amp;nbsp;white guys.")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Islam doesn't mean peace.&amp;nbsp; Islam means fear.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-1375438971917520707?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/1375438971917520707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=1375438971917520707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1375438971917520707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1375438971917520707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/03/islam-means-fear.html' title='Islam Means Fear'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4358261232441370936</id><published>2011-03-23T06:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T05:36:32.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Your Right Hand Doing?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;It's so easy for us in the States to get wrapped up in "helping Haiti (or insert desperate country here)" mode of donating, and then somehow the cause becomes about Stateside communion with our friends during projects to raise money or distribute goods. Noble, necessary and beneficial, yes of course, but detached and luxurious in ego-satisfying congratulations. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And then Haiti (or other places where horror is met with hope from God and brave people working for Him), becomes a nebulous blob of undefined suffering, and is not spotlighted by an individual terror that cannot be imagined by people who fret about too much to eat and have too much time to pour into electronics instead of people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;It says in Matthew 6:2-4: “So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. &amp;nbsp;But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I hate to sound a bit cynical (well, actually I love sounding cynical), but when all these groups get together to do their "giving" are they more concerned&amp;nbsp;WITH whom they're serving than&amp;nbsp;FOR whom they're serving?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4358261232441370936?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4358261232441370936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4358261232441370936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4358261232441370936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4358261232441370936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/03/whats-your-right-hand-doing.html' title='What&apos;s Your Right Hand Doing?'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-569410978765722159</id><published>2011-03-21T06:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T06:24:42.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pig Farms...Again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, the notion of us owning a pig farm came up again.&amp;nbsp; It's simultaneously the&amp;nbsp;absolute silliest and most sane thing I can think of!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Suey!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;We are blessed with a great life, but one of the hardest things is deciding what to do when we grow up.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm tired of the corporate games and the mazes my husband has to navigate to bring home a paycheck.&amp;nbsp; It's really outlandish, and I serioiusly think that Middle Schoolers are more mature than most people in Corporate America.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I&amp;nbsp;have&amp;nbsp;found this to be true at many jobs I've had through my&amp;nbsp;various careers.&amp;nbsp; Your work experience will be singularly dictated by the Emotional IQ of your manger and fellow workers.&amp;nbsp; Sure, HR can help you out and there are legal boundaries in which everyone must remain.&amp;nbsp; Still,&amp;nbsp;the psychological level of your boss&amp;nbsp;and coworkers will&amp;nbsp;almost solely&amp;nbsp;determine the quality&amp;nbsp;of your&amp;nbsp;work week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ever worked for a boss who has a chip on her shoulder?&amp;nbsp; Ever worked with anyone who would throw you under a bus to save their own skin?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Similarly, the good exists, yes, the people who make our lives better and we're proud and happy to call them&amp;nbsp;our managers, our&amp;nbsp;colleagues and our friends.&amp;nbsp; They make work fun.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But, people&amp;nbsp;don't stay in one place very long.&amp;nbsp; They move up, they move on.&amp;nbsp; As my husband says upon losing such great synchronicity: "It was a fair time."&amp;nbsp; And, yes indeed it was.&amp;nbsp; But it's over, and we have to meet new fellow&amp;nbsp;employees.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, the subject of pig farms came up again yesterday.&amp;nbsp; It's just a thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-569410978765722159?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/569410978765722159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=569410978765722159' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/569410978765722159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/569410978765722159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/03/pig-farmsagain.html' title='Pig Farms...Again.'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4753822317770268039</id><published>2011-03-21T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T06:02:40.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing for the Creator</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sometimes I really feel God reaching through me when I write. Sometimes the Holy Spirit directs my fingers on the keyboard or pops a phrase into my head. Sometimes it feels as if it's coming from outside me, like God is directing me as if I were onstage. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I haven't really thought about that much. I just take for granted that's what happens.&amp;nbsp; Maybe I need to think about it more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Where does my writing come from?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Me, in anger?&amp;nbsp; Righteous anger, or belittled anger?&amp;nbsp; Envious and greedy, or loving and caring?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I think I need to think more carefully about why I write, and what I write.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;When I was younger and the Internet was new and fresh, I found I could spew all sorts of nonsense out there.&amp;nbsp; There are no filters in emails or posts or chat groups.&amp;nbsp; And, before the Internet I could write letters, because that's even more detached.&amp;nbsp; It was just my keyboard and me, and I could say whatever I wanted based on my feelings and emotion at the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sometimes the angry feelings would fade and I would be left with my barbed words on a page, in a document on my computer, or forever out there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sometimes the lovely feelings would come, and my heart would nearly burst with joy, and my words couldn't come out quickly enough to fill the pages that needed filling.&amp;nbsp; And I would search and search for perfect words, often finding them or a good substitute.&amp;nbsp; Then, more than a few times, I&amp;nbsp;would be&amp;nbsp;frustrated by lack of stating my emotion perfectly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;My thought now is that I really need to pray before I write.&amp;nbsp; To ask for guidance from God.&amp;nbsp; To ask for the Holy Spirit to move me in a way that is pleasing and doing His will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;That doesn't mean that&amp;nbsp;my writing&amp;nbsp;will mamby pamby.&amp;nbsp; Jesus showed us how to behave, and despite the stereotype he was no wimp.&amp;nbsp; He was strong and&amp;nbsp;righteous and didn't back down.&amp;nbsp; People misuse "turn the other cheek" as it didn't mean what we think it means (I'll discuss that&amp;nbsp;another time, and I probably&amp;nbsp;already have earlier in this blog).&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Jesus was powerful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I will pray that God leads my written words, as well as my spoken words and actions.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4753822317770268039?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4753822317770268039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4753822317770268039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4753822317770268039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4753822317770268039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/03/sometimes-i-really-feel-god-reaching.html' title='Writing for the Creator'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5724977942574570823</id><published>2011-03-09T07:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T07:52:09.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unions Are Irrelevant</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Dear Wisconsin Teachers' Union,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I would get on bended knee and thank God for the deal at which&amp;nbsp;you all scoff! My husband is a contract worker, which means we get ZERO benefits. No vacation days. No health insurance. No pension or 401K matching. Zip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Unions are irrelevant for white collar workers. In the old days they protected coal miners' and factory workers' lives. Today, they protect middle class pocketbooks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Makes me sick when I write my $900.00 check each month for health insurance for my family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Oh, and my husband's Great Uncle John L. Lewis was a national union figure and I can tell you that his goal was saving lives and improving coal miners' working conditions. Unions were noble then--it wasn't about padded pensions and luxury insurance plans. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sincerely, Cat Lewis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5724977942574570823?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5724977942574570823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5724977942574570823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5724977942574570823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5724977942574570823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/03/dear-wisconsin-teachers-union.html' title='Unions Are Irrelevant'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6764072121708756771</id><published>2011-02-18T06:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T06:18:42.337-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Chapter</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm tired.&amp;nbsp; I've been tired for weeks.&amp;nbsp; First, I got sick.&amp;nbsp; Then, my dad got sick.&amp;nbsp; Now, all the stuff with my dad is sinking in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Dad&amp;nbsp;was rushed to&amp;nbsp;hospital on Super Bowl Sunday, and was&amp;nbsp;in there&amp;nbsp;for days.&amp;nbsp; I seriously thought we were going to lose him.&amp;nbsp; The reality washed over me at the time that he will die.&amp;nbsp; Maybe not today or tomorrow or next year, but in the coming years he will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;You always know your parents will go before you, God willing.&amp;nbsp; That's the natural state of things.&amp;nbsp; As a parent myself, I know that there is no greater pain on this planet than losing a child, it's not the natural order of things.&amp;nbsp; Parents go first.&amp;nbsp; They continue to lead the way for us, even in death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And even as well all know this, we don't really accept it.&amp;nbsp; He's always been there for me, raising me when my mother couldn't, he was&amp;nbsp;my father and mother combined.&amp;nbsp; He's there for me still to this day--with me being over 40 and he being over 80--to ask advice and lean on.&amp;nbsp; He's the ever-present&amp;nbsp;rock in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, now that rock is crumbling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;When&amp;nbsp;my parents got the FL house 6 yrs ago, it was magical.&amp;nbsp; We'd just moved to NC and so&amp;nbsp;trotting down to FL to see them was easy.&amp;nbsp; Fill the SUV with our stuff, barrel 8 hours down I-95 and boom, we're there, we're beaching&amp;nbsp;and we're reveling in&amp;nbsp;grandparents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But, now with my&amp;nbsp;dad's illness, they have to sell the place because he&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;can't&lt;/em&gt; travel and stepmom &lt;em&gt;won't&lt;/em&gt; travel.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So,&amp;nbsp;in the next month or two, they'll sell the FL place and head back up to IA one&amp;nbsp;last&amp;nbsp;time.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And then, when we want to see them we have to buy 4 plane tickets...and travel all day in airports...and get up at the crack of dawn...and go through TSA checkpoints...and travel during slow times of the year because I don't do&amp;nbsp;crowds...and...well, it's just a nightmare to think&amp;nbsp;of how difficult&amp;nbsp;it will be to see them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, I grieve the life we've come to know with them for the last 6 yrs.&amp;nbsp; I grieve being able to see them so&amp;nbsp;easily.&amp;nbsp; I grieve the fun times we've shared at their place in FL.&amp;nbsp; I grieve the times we've been allowed to&amp;nbsp;use the place, to&amp;nbsp;have our own family vacations there.&amp;nbsp; I grieve the fact that my dad won't be playing golf, or walking on the beach,&amp;nbsp;or&amp;nbsp;zooming&amp;nbsp;around town making&amp;nbsp;business deals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, yet, I'm grateful.&amp;nbsp; I'm grateful we get to have him longer.&amp;nbsp; I'm grateful his mind is sharp and he's still interested in debating politics, religion and current events.&amp;nbsp; I'm grateful we can board a two flights and head up to IA to see him.&amp;nbsp; I'm grateful he'll have more time with his sweetheart, my stepmom.&amp;nbsp; I'm grateful that my kids know grampa and gramma and they are excited for our last trip down to FL this Spring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm grateful.&amp;nbsp; And, I grieve.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The last chapter ended, it's time to start a new one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-6764072121708756771?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6764072121708756771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=6764072121708756771' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6764072121708756771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6764072121708756771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/02/new-chapter.html' title='New Chapter'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-1293430452956300227</id><published>2011-02-16T05:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T05:45:35.609-08:00</updated><title type='text'>God's Will and Pig Farms</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;While we're dreaming about our life, things keep popping up.&amp;nbsp; Like owning a business (we did enjoy it before), moving, having&amp;nbsp;hubby work in another industry, and starting a pig farm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;People who know me had to read that sentence twice.&amp;nbsp; WHAT?!?&amp;nbsp; Pig farm????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Yes, we're also attracted to organic farming.&amp;nbsp; I envision a multi-layered farm of&amp;nbsp;organic meats, fish and vegetables.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I know, we're city folk.&amp;nbsp; I know, we like to fine dine.&amp;nbsp; I know, we like to dress up.&amp;nbsp; I know, hubby owns a nice ride.&amp;nbsp; I know, we aren't really "get up at the crack of dawn and milk the cows" type of folk.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But we could be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;We could be anything.&amp;nbsp; You see, that's how it is with God.&amp;nbsp; When He is behind you, you can do literally anything, any crazy, hair-brained idea that comes to mind, but with His blessing it makes sense.&amp;nbsp; It falls into place.&amp;nbsp; The pieces&amp;nbsp;fit, and while everyone around you is scratching their heads, you just&amp;nbsp;plow straight forward into God's plan.&amp;nbsp; That's why I don't mind dreaming large.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;When I say&amp;nbsp;large, I don't mean&amp;nbsp;grandiose.&amp;nbsp; I mean&amp;nbsp;endless possibilites with God in the driver seat.&amp;nbsp; With&amp;nbsp;Him all things are possible.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;When&amp;nbsp;He determined that I would leave my family and home in California and move to North Carolina with my hubby and&amp;nbsp;18-month-old daughter while I was 6 months pregnant and we had no home in NC, had not sold our home in CA, and I hadn't been in NC in well over a decade I said, "SURE!"&amp;nbsp; B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;ecause that's how it is with God.&amp;nbsp; When it's God's will, it works regardless of the circumstance.&amp;nbsp; There is peace and confidence in the decision.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;However, God also placed on our hearts to open a biz, which we could more easily do in NC than in CA.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We&amp;nbsp;used our heads, we&amp;nbsp;had prospects in NC for a biz.&amp;nbsp; You see, I never once questioned moving across a continent while 6 months pregnant,&amp;nbsp;never once had regret or thought "we shouldn't do this!"&amp;nbsp; I just went with no looking back.&amp;nbsp; God's will is always clear, it won't be fuzzy or changeable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;God&amp;nbsp;doesn't&amp;nbsp;want us&amp;nbsp;taking unneccessary risk.&amp;nbsp; God gave us brains&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;we need to use them.&amp;nbsp; Here's the caveat: God doesn't bless us JUST BECAUSE what we're doing is&amp;nbsp;SO noble, SO generous and SO&amp;nbsp;"Christian."&amp;nbsp; His will cannot be predetermined by our&amp;nbsp;desires to be a&amp;nbsp;good or&amp;nbsp;godly&amp;nbsp;person.&amp;nbsp; No matter how wonderful and giving&amp;nbsp;our endeavor, we can't MAKE God bless it.&amp;nbsp; (Even if we think He should.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;We must be discerning in an earthly way to honor God's will for us. If He wants me to own a pig farm and run a pig farm, I know that my business savvy hubby will crunch numbers and if the numbers indicate that we can survive doing it, we can do it. &amp;nbsp;I know that we will learn the skills necessary to do it.&amp;nbsp; I know that we already bring things to the table to help us do it.&amp;nbsp; I know that God will bless our endeavors to do it IF it's His will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Regardless of the venture, if we--or you, or anyone--can't make money and survive doing it, then&amp;nbsp;it's NOT God's will to support your family, no matter how badly we want to believe it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;While God can make all things happen, He can also communicate His will to us through road blocks.&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;Not all road blocks are sent by the enemy!&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; Sometimes&amp;nbsp;God is saying, "yes, child, this is a great thing and you will&amp;nbsp;help many people, but this is not what I want for you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;In the mix of discerning God's will and using our brains, we also must adhere to our own natures and inclinations.&amp;nbsp; Those are desires He has placed on our hearts.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Buying a Subway franchise might&amp;nbsp;seem like a good&amp;nbsp;idea, but do you ever&amp;nbsp;wonder why nearly every Subway franchise owner is&amp;nbsp;behind the counter making sandwiches?&amp;nbsp; If you like making sandwiches, that&amp;nbsp;could be a perfect fit.&amp;nbsp; But, if you want a business that you can run, and hire&amp;nbsp;people to work the shop, and you don't want to stand behind the counter putting pickles on a sub, then&amp;nbsp;Subway&amp;nbsp;probably isn't the franchise to buy.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Do I want to slop pigs?&amp;nbsp; Maybe.&amp;nbsp; I grew up in Iowa where&amp;nbsp;there are more pigs than people.&amp;nbsp; Do I want to make Subway&amp;nbsp;sandwiches?&amp;nbsp; No.&amp;nbsp; No, I do not.&amp;nbsp; Do I want to open a prayer&amp;nbsp;house?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Yes, yes I do.&amp;nbsp; Can I feed my family with&amp;nbsp;my prayer house?&amp;nbsp; No, no I cannot.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Unfortunately, at this point in time&amp;nbsp;hubby and I&amp;nbsp;have to&amp;nbsp;expend our energies on&amp;nbsp;endeavors that will&amp;nbsp;put food on our table and a&amp;nbsp;roof over our head.&amp;nbsp; Maybe down the line I can think of ways to give back like with&amp;nbsp;my prayer house,&amp;nbsp;but for right now we need to eat, sleep and wear clothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, when looking at future endeavors, we need to determine God's will.&amp;nbsp; We need to figure out what inclinations God has placed on our hearts.&amp;nbsp; We need to think outside the box, but use our heads.&amp;nbsp; Then, regardless of circumstance,&amp;nbsp;moving across a continent is an easy thing to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-1293430452956300227?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/1293430452956300227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=1293430452956300227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1293430452956300227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1293430452956300227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/02/gods-will-and-pig-farms.html' title='God&apos;s Will and Pig Farms'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-7027723144826471603</id><published>2011-02-15T07:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T07:39:07.127-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Escalator to Heaven</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, I have given much to God (see prev. post) and I need to give more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Hubby and I are dreaming.&amp;nbsp; We just started.&amp;nbsp; What can our life look like?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;When we owned our financial services biz, dreaming was easy.&amp;nbsp; Dreaming about spending money is always easy.&amp;nbsp; We'll have this home, this vacation, this car, this "lifestyle."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But, dreaming about a life is different.&amp;nbsp; We're not dreaming about spending money, we're dreaming about what we look like.&amp;nbsp; What we do to make money.&amp;nbsp; What we do as a family.&amp;nbsp; Who we are as people.&amp;nbsp; What legacy we think God wants us to leave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;This is different dreaming.&amp;nbsp; This is harder dreaming.&amp;nbsp; It also requires a lot more of God's presence&amp;nbsp;in our dreams.&amp;nbsp; Does God really care what kind of car we drive?&amp;nbsp; No.&amp;nbsp; He doesn't care whether we have granite or formica countertops.&amp;nbsp; He doesn't rate us by the label on our clothing or where we shop for groceries.&amp;nbsp; We aren't more godly if we shop at Fresh Market or Whole Foods or Food Lion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Likewise, God doesn't care what we do for a living.&amp;nbsp; Does He care more about a tailor or a neurosurgeon or a pastor?&amp;nbsp; Does He rank them?&amp;nbsp; No.&amp;nbsp; Pastors or missionaries or church receptionists don't get brownie points with God.&amp;nbsp; That's earthly thinking.&amp;nbsp; Not Godly thinking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Hubby put it into perspective.&amp;nbsp; There's only one escalator to Heaven and a mass murderer who was saved might be standing next to me.&amp;nbsp; There's not a gold-covered jewel-encrusted escalator for people who are better, more Godly or lived a better life.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;There's only one, and we'll either be on it, or we won't be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-7027723144826471603?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/7027723144826471603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=7027723144826471603' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7027723144826471603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7027723144826471603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/02/escalator-to-heaven.html' title='Escalator to Heaven'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-3970540376062824456</id><published>2011-02-09T06:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T06:34:53.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In God's Hands</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;This has been the week of putting it into God's hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I have been needing to do this.&amp;nbsp; So of course I haven't, not until I'm forced to do it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sunday, my dad was rushed to the hospital with lung and heart problems.&amp;nbsp; He's wavering there now.&amp;nbsp; Not getting better, but not getting worse.&amp;nbsp; It's difficult to not be there.&amp;nbsp; But, it's harder to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I have been yelling at my kids for two days now.&amp;nbsp; Not all the time, but enough that I just have to stop.&amp;nbsp; They are kids, they'll act like kids and I can't expect them to act like robots.&amp;nbsp; I have very rambuctious kids.&amp;nbsp; Which is weird because Hubby and I aren't like that.&amp;nbsp; We're much more mellow and like to hang.&amp;nbsp; Our kids like to hang, too...while they're swinging from the chandelier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am also sick as a dog.&amp;nbsp; Sore throat and stuffy and not feeling well.&amp;nbsp; Luckily I've gotten a ton of sleep.&amp;nbsp; And, I often wonder when I get sick like this--which is rare--that maybe my body gives up and wants sleep and the only way I'll rest is to become ill.&amp;nbsp; I am a "doer" and like to do things, accomplish things, cross stuff off my "to do" list.&amp;nbsp; I'm not a good sit around and sleep and watch inane tv person, which is all I can do when I'm this sick. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I want to go to FL to see my dad, but I can't because I'm sick.&amp;nbsp; I can't risk getting him sick, it might quite literally kill him.&amp;nbsp; I want to stop yelling at my children and have homeschool be more fun for us all.&amp;nbsp; I want to live a godly life and enrich everything I touch.&amp;nbsp; I want to leave the world a better place because I was in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I have to give it to God.&amp;nbsp; I have to let His hands guide my day, guide my life, guide my actions, words and thoughts.&amp;nbsp; I have to stop trying to control the universe and let the God who does control the universe do His job.&amp;nbsp; I have to stop being my own stumbling block.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I put my life into God's hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-3970540376062824456?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/3970540376062824456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=3970540376062824456' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3970540376062824456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3970540376062824456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/02/in-gods-hands.html' title='In God&apos;s Hands'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-2535100715114321547</id><published>2011-02-01T13:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T13:24:12.485-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharia Law is Dangerous</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Abdallah Adhami, the Imam in the center of the Ground Zero Mosque controversy, just stated that homosexuals are attracted to the same sex because they were abused as children.&amp;nbsp; A statement I find reprehensible and childish.&amp;nbsp; I love my gay brothers and sisters, many of whom are family and friends, and I find&amp;nbsp;promoting this&amp;nbsp;sort of inane information&amp;nbsp;unacceptable at best.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;So, how does the American Left, who usually zealously supports anything that's "not Christian" and "not white," react?&amp;nbsp; They actually got mad!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Wow.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Chalk one up for the Left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;There are many Christians who would&amp;nbsp;embrace their gay cousin, neighbor or&amp;nbsp;coworker.&amp;nbsp; Ignorant Christians who don't understand--and I mean ignorance in the truest educational sense--need to be taught what Jesus taught us: love your neighbor as yourself.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;While I can speak for many Christians,&amp;nbsp;I can't speak&amp;nbsp;for&amp;nbsp;many Muslims.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps nearly all of them love their gay cousins, neighbors and coworkers, too.&amp;nbsp; But,&amp;nbsp;it's hard to tell.&amp;nbsp; Most&amp;nbsp;Muslims don't speak for themselves, most let their Imams speak for them.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;I think the American Left should take to heart those comments regarding homosexuality from the Ground Zero Mosque Imam.&amp;nbsp; I think we should all delve into why he would make such a rash statement and where, truly,&amp;nbsp;Sharia Law stands on homosexuality and other issues.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;The reason why need to know more is that there is a current movement to promote Sharia Law here in the US.&amp;nbsp; Some feel it would be useful, and promote multi-culturalism.&amp;nbsp; Some think it would help Islam, and promote it as a peaceful religion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Having Sharia Law here in the US scares me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I think it's dangerous.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We&amp;nbsp;might all want to take a look at it, a deep, hard,&amp;nbsp;magnifying glass look at it to&amp;nbsp;understand why it would be bad for America.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Here is an excerpt from&amp;nbsp;James Arlandson's article&amp;nbsp;in the American Thinker, where he outlines why Sharia Law is bad for&amp;nbsp;&lt;u&gt;all&lt;/u&gt; societies.&amp;nbsp; Remember, this isn't about bashing a religious text, it's about showing current Islamic Law (Sharia Law) as it is&amp;nbsp;practiced&amp;nbsp;today in&amp;nbsp;Muslim countries.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif; font-size: large;"&gt;"Here are the top ten reasons why sharia or Islamic law is bad for all societies. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;10. Islam commands that drinkers and gamblers should be whipped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;The Prophet felt it hard (was angry) and ordered all those who were present in the house, to beat him [the drinker dragged into Muhammad's presence]. (Bukhari, Punishments, nos. 6774—6775)&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Thus, we see no offer of help for the alcoholic when he is dragged before Muhammad and his followers. Why does Muhammad not offer rehabilitation? Why does he immediately go to corporal punishment?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;9. Islam allows husbands to hit their wives even if the husbands merely fear highhandedness in their wives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Quran says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;4:34 . . . If you fear highhandedness from your wives, remind them [of the teaching of God], then ignore them when you go to bed, then hit them. If they obey you, you have no right to act against them. God is most high and great. (MAS Abdel Haleem, the Qur'an, Oxford UP, 2004)&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Generally, sharia restricts women's social mobility and rights, the more closely sharia is followed. For example, in conservative Saudi Arabia women are not allowed to drive cars. In Iran, the law oppresses women. For example, women's testimony counts half that of men, and far more women than men are stoned to death for adultery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;8. Islam allows an injured plaintiff to exact legal revenge—physical eye for physical eye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Quran says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;5:45 And We ordained therein for them: Life for life, eye for eye, nose for nose, ear for ear, tooth for tooth and wounds equal for equal. But if anyone remits the retaliation by way of charity, it shall be for him an expiation. And whosoever does not judge by that which Allah has revealed, such are the Zalimun (polytheists and wrongdoers . . .). (Hilali and Khan, The Noble Qur'an, Riyadh: Darussalam, 1996)&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;This passage allows for an indemnity or compensation instead of imposing the literal punishment of eye for an eye. No one should have a quarrel with this option. According to the &lt;u&gt;hadith&lt;/u&gt;* (*reports of Muhammad's words and&amp;nbsp;actions outside of the Quran), the plaintiff also has the option to forgive, and this is legitimate, provided a judge oversees the process. The problem is the literal law of retaliation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The hadith and later legal rulings demonstrate that this excessive option was actually carried out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Islamic law calls all of humanity to march backwards 1,400 years BC and to re—impose the old law of retaliation—literally, and the evidence suggest that the Torah never intended the law to be carried out literally. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;7. Islam commands that a male and female thief must have a hand cut off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Quran says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;5:38 Cut off the hands of thieves, whether they are male or female, as punishment for what they have done—a deterrent from God: God is almighty and wise. 39 But if anyone repents after his wrongdoing and makes amends, God will accept his repentance: God is most forgiving and merciful. (Haleem)&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;At first glance, verse 39 seems to accept repentance before the thief's hand is cut off. But the hadith states emphatically that repentance is acceptable only after mutilation. Muhammad himself says that even if his own daughter, Fatima, were to steal and then intercede that her hand should not be cut off, he would still have to cut it off (Bukhari, Punishments, no. 6788)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;6. Islam commands that highway robbers should be crucified or mutilated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Quran says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;5:33 Those who wage war against God and His Messenger and strive to spread corruption in the land should be punished by death, crucifixion, the amputation of an alternate hand and foot or banishment from the land: a disgrace for them in this world, and then a terrible punishment in the Hereafter, 34 unless they repent before you overpower them: in that case bear in mind that God is forgiving and merciful. (Haleem)&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;It may be difficult to accept, but the hadith says that Muhammad tortured these next people before he executed them. This scenario provides the historical context of Sura 5:33—34. The explanations in parentheses have been added by the translator:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Narrated Anas: Some people . . . came to the Prophet and embraced Islam . . . [T]hey turned renegades (reverted from Islam) and killed the shepherd of the camels and took the camels away . . . The Prophet ordered that their hands and legs should be cut off and their eyes should be branded with heated pieces of iron, and that their cut hands and legs should not be cauterized, till they died. (Bukhari, Punishments, no. 6802)&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The next hadith reports that the renegades died from bleeding to death because Muhammad refused to cauterize their amputated limbs. Then the hadith after that one reports that the renegades were not given water, so they died of thirst. They probably died of both causes: thirst and loss of blood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;5. Islam commands that homosexuals must be executed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ibn Abbas, Muhammad's cousin and highly reliable transmitter of hadith, reports the following about early Islam and Muhammad's punishment of homosexuals: . . . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;'If you find anyone doing as Lot's people did, kill the one who does it, and the one to whom it is done' (Abu Dawud no. 4447). &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;This hadith passage says that homosexuals should be burned alive or have wall pushed on them:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ibn Abbas and Abu Huraira reported God's messenger as saying, 'Accursed is he who does what Lot's people did.' In a version . . . on the authority of Ibn Abbas it says that Ali [Muhammad's cousin and son—in—law] had two people burned and that Abu Bakr [Muhammad's chief companion] had a wall thrown down on them. (Mishkat, vol. 1, p. 765, Prescribed Punishments)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;4. Islam orders unmarried fornicators to be whipped and adulterers to be stoned to death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Fornication:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Quran says:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;24:2 The fornicatress and the fornicator, flog each of them with a hundred stripes. Let not pity withhold you in their case, in a punishment prescribed by Allah, if you believe in Allah and the Last Day. And let a party of the believers witness their punishment. [This punishment is for unmarried persons guilty of the above crime (illegal sex), but if married persons commit it (illegal sex), the punishment is to stone them to death, according to Allah's law]. (Hilali and Khan).&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The additions in the brackets, though not original to the Arabic, have the support of the hadith. These command flogging only of unmarried fornicators: Bukhari, Punishments, nos. 6831 and 6833.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Adultery:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;This gruesome hadith passage reports that a woman was buried up to her chest and stoned to death:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;And when he had given command over her and she was put in a hole up to her breast, he ordered the people to stone her. Khalid b. al—Walid came forward with a stone which he threw at her head, and when the blood spurted on his face he cursed her . . . (Muslim no. 4206)&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The Prophet prayed over her dead body and then buried her. The rest of the hadith says that Muhammad told Khalid not to be too harsh, but the Prophet's words drip with irony. Perhaps Muhammad meant that Khalid should not have cursed her. However, if they really did not want to be harsh, they should have forgiven her and let her go to raise her child.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;3. Islam orders death for Muslim and possible death for non—Muslim critics of Muhammad and the Quran and even sharia itself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;First, the Muslim deserves death for doing any of the following (Reliance of the Traveler pp. 597—98, o8.7):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;(1) Reviling Allah or his Messenger; (2) being sarcastic about 'Allah's name, His command, His interdiction, His promise, or His threat'; (3) denying any verse of the Quran or 'anything which by scholarly consensus belongs to it, or to add a verse that does not belong to it'; (4) holding that 'any of Allah's messengers or prophets are liars, or to deny their being sent'; (5) reviling the religion of Islam; (6) being sarcastic about any ruling of the Sacred Law; (7) denying that Allah intended 'the Prophet's message . . . to be the religion followed by the entire world.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;It is no wonder that critical investigation of the truth claims of Islam can never prevail in Islamic lands when the sword of Muhammad hangs over the scholars' head. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The non—Muslims living under Islamic rule are not allowed to do the following (p. 609, o11.10(1)—(5)): &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;(1) Commit adultery with a Muslim woman or marry her; (2) conceal spies of hostile forces; (3) lead a Muslim away from Islam; (4) mention something impermissible about Allah, the Prophet . . . or Islam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;According to the discretion of the caliph or his representative, the punishments for violating these rules are as follows: (1) death, (2) enslavement, (3) release without paying anything, and (4) ransoming in exchange for money. These punishments also execute free speech—even repulsive speech—and freedom of religion or conscience. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;As it stands, sharia with its prescribed punishments for questioning Muhammad, the Quran, and sharia itself testifies to their weakness since sharia threatens those who dare to differ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;How confident was Muhammad (and today's Muslims) in his message that he had to rely on violence and force to protect his message, besides reason and persuasive argumentation?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;2. Islam orders apostates to be killed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Apostates are those who leave Islam, like Salman Rushdie, whether they become atheists or convert to another religion. They are supposed to be killed according to the Quran, the hadith, and later legal rulings. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sayyid Maududi, a respected Islamic scholar, argues that Sura 9:11—12 refers to apostates and that they should be put to death.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;They should be given time to repent, but if they refuse, they must be killed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And the number one reason why sharia is bad for all societies . . . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;1. Islam commands offensive and aggressive and unjust jihad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Muhammad is foundational to Islam, and he set the genetic code for Islam, waging war. In the ten years that he lived in Medina from his Hijrah (Emigration) from Mecca in AD 622 to his death of a fever in AD 632, he either sent out or went out on seventy—four raids, expeditions, or full—scale wars. They range from small assassination hit squads to kill anyone who insulted him, to the Tabuk Crusades in late AD 630 against the Byzantine Christians. He had heard a rumor that an army was mobilizing to invade Arabia, but the rumor was false, so his 30,000 jihadists returned home, but not before imposing a jizya tax on northern Christians and Jews. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Money flowed into the Islamic treasury. So why would Muhammad get a revelation to dry up this money flow? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;What are some of the legalized rules of jihad found in the Quran, hadith, and classical legal opinions? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;(1) Women and children are enslaved. They can either be sold, or the Muslims may 'marry' the women, since their marriages are automatically annulled upon their capture. (2) Jihadists may have sex with slave women. Ali, Muhammad's cousin and son—in—law, did this. (3) Women and children must not be killed during war, unless this happens in a nighttime raid when visibility was low. (4) Old men and monks could be killed. (5) A captured enemy of war could be killed, enslaved, ransomed for money or an exchange, freely released, or beaten. (6) Enemy men who converted could keep their property and small children. This law is so excessive that it amounts to forced conversion. Only the strongest of the strong could resist this coercion and remain a non—Muslim. (7) Civilian property may be confiscated. (8) Civilian homes may be destroyed. (9) Civilian fruit trees may be destroyed. (10) Pagan Arabs had to convert or die. This does not allow for the freedom of religion or conscience. (11) People of the Book (Jews and Christians) had three options (Sura 9:29): fight and die; convert and pay a forced 'charity' or zakat tax; or keep their Biblical faith and pay a jizya or poll tax. The last two options mean that money flows into the Islamic treasury, so why would Muhammad receive a revelation to dry up this money flow?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Thus, jihad is aggressive, coercive, and excessive, and Allah never revealed to Muhammad to stop these practices.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Conclusion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sharia must never spread around the world. At least that much is clear and achievable. The hard evidence in this article* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;demonstrates beyond doubt that sharia does not benefit any society, for it contains too many harsh rules and punishments. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;*Please see original article for&amp;nbsp;evidence and links to supporting articles at http://www.americanthinker.com/2005/08/top_ten_reasons_why_sharia_is.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One of the most tragic and under—reported occurrences in the West in recent years is the existence of a sharia court in Canada.&lt;/strong&gt; Muslims are pushing for a sharia divorce courting Australia as well. Having a court of arbitration if it is based on western law and legal theory is legitimate, but sharia does not hold to this standard. Whether sharia is imposed gradually or rapidly, Canada should promptly shut down any sharia court, and Australia should never allow one. Such a court should never be permitted in the US, the rest of the West, or anywhere else in the world that is battling Islam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;It is true that the Enlightenment teaches tolerance, but it also teaches critical thinking and reasoning. Sharia cannot stand up under scrutiny. It is intolerant and excessive, and Aristotle in his Nicomachean Ethics teaches the West that excess is never just.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Thankfully, the province of Quebec, Canada, has forbidden sharia. This is the right initiative. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sharia ultimately degrades society and diminishes freedom."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;James M. Arlandson may be reached at jamesmarlandson@hotmail.com &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-2535100715114321547?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/2535100715114321547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=2535100715114321547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/2535100715114321547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/2535100715114321547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/02/sharia-law-is-dangerous.html' title='Sharia Law is Dangerous'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6444667505138919643</id><published>2011-01-24T05:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T05:27:58.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Over-Education of America</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;We are a great nation.&amp;nbsp; We are.&amp;nbsp; We help the world, we change ourselves when we need it, we have grown up and grown strong in a short number of years as a country.&amp;nbsp; I love America, I love the fact that we fight the good fight and we stand as a symbol of freedom for the world.&amp;nbsp; The USA makes me proud.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;We are a country where anyone can become anything.&amp;nbsp; Seriously, despite what the propagandists want us to believe, if you can dream it you can achieve it, regardless of circumstance.&amp;nbsp; Bill Clinton grew up in a trailer fer cryin' out loud. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And in that excellent vein of being able to become anything we want, higher education is available to all.&amp;nbsp; To everyone.&amp;nbsp; Unlike other parts of the planet, no one will be excluded because of socioeconomic status, race, religion, gender, or sexual orientation.&amp;nbsp; Everyone can enter.&amp;nbsp; There are standards, yes, but if&amp;nbsp;one studies, learns and graduates high school or gets a GED,&amp;nbsp;anyone can go to college.&amp;nbsp; It might not be Harvard or Stanford, but&amp;nbsp;one can go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So,&amp;nbsp;we in America are free to attend college, and attend we do!&amp;nbsp; We get technical degrees, and baccalaureate degrees, and masters and doctorates and specialities galore!&amp;nbsp; We are students for years, for&amp;nbsp;decades!&amp;nbsp; We sign up and go, go go!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, we pay, pay, pay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;When I worked for the Red Cross I met so many young people saddled with large amounts of college debt.&amp;nbsp; I couldn't believe how much these young kids, fresh out of school, owed.&amp;nbsp; They were swimming in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, yet, here they were working for their hearts at a non-profit.&amp;nbsp; They say you really work at a non-profit for the benefits because the salary is rather thin, and that's pretty much true.&amp;nbsp; Here are these young idealists pouring out their hearts and souls for a cause, and carrying around a mass of college debt that will take them decades if not a lifetime to repay.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, yet, the atmosphere in the social services industry promotes even more education.&amp;nbsp; Sure, you got your bachelor's, but what you really need now is a masters.&amp;nbsp; And, don't forget that doctorate!&amp;nbsp; The people who can least afford to continue racking up tuition bills are the ones being pushed back to the books.&amp;nbsp; The theory is that they can advance in their careers if they have more letters after their names.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, that's not just true for social work, it's true in every industry.&amp;nbsp; More degrees equals more pay, better titles, advancement.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But, I have to ask, at what cost?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Nearly 70% of students graduate with debt, and the average student in 2009 graduated with $24,000&amp;nbsp;debt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;That's a really nice car.&amp;nbsp; If you're not making much money, that can be a staggering number.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;For&amp;nbsp;some professions it totally makes sense because one's salary power can increase dramatically.&amp;nbsp; A general physician can increase his or her salary by specializing.&amp;nbsp; A chemical engineer can increase his or her take home&amp;nbsp;with advanced degrees and certificates.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;However, with other professions, it only allows a&amp;nbsp;slight bump in&amp;nbsp;earning ability.&amp;nbsp; The degree for the lower-paid professionals&amp;nbsp;acts a status symbol&amp;nbsp;to placate peers&amp;nbsp;and expand resume rather than&amp;nbsp;a driving force to increase income.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;The problem is now pandemic because industry reasons why hire a bachelor's when we can get a master's or a doctorate?&amp;nbsp; We've got highly educated and degreed professionals doing monkey work because the field is littered with over-educated and over-qualified individuals fighting&amp;nbsp;for the few&amp;nbsp;positions open in these hard economic times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Higher education IS a good thing, it really is.&amp;nbsp; But, look what's happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;According to numbers out at the end of 2010, college debt in the US is nearing $1 trillion.&amp;nbsp; It has surpassed credit card debt.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;These days&amp;nbsp;if a person wants to get hired, he or she must ensure&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;right degrees&amp;nbsp;appear on&amp;nbsp;the resume, otherwise it's back to&amp;nbsp;campus...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;...and the financial aid office.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-6444667505138919643?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6444667505138919643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=6444667505138919643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6444667505138919643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6444667505138919643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/01/over-education-of-america.html' title='The Over-Education of America'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8623944592589459965</id><published>2011-01-18T05:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T07:02:04.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Princesses and Honey</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Theme: Encourage others in a positive way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;My sister and I grew up with means.&amp;nbsp; And that fact, the fact that Daddy made money, enveloped&amp;nbsp;some other people's&amp;nbsp;perception of us.&amp;nbsp; We were "the princesses."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Not, they have such loving hearts.&amp;nbsp; But, they are spoiled princesses.&amp;nbsp; Not, they care about others and devote their energies to causes that help others.&amp;nbsp; But, they are spoiled princesses.&amp;nbsp; Not, they are kind, stand up for those who can't stand up for themselves, and give generously.&amp;nbsp; But, they are spoiled princesses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;They just saw the external and didn't bother to check out the internal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;(Note: I need to tell you that I currently don't have means. My Daddy had means, but I don't. We live a simple life, we have a modest home, a modest budget to which we religiously stick, we give as we can, and we splurge a little.&amp;nbsp; My goal is to make my life as simple as possible, and I'm working diligently on that.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Because of my upbringing, I know firsthand how seemingly good people can allow the enemy to prosper in their hearts&amp;nbsp;because they are looking only at the surface...and perhaps&amp;nbsp;reading their own agenda into someone's life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;When people are seen through a lens of what they have, the exterior and material, and not who they are, then prejudice takes root.&amp;nbsp; And those doing the judging can feel self righteous about it because&amp;nbsp;it fulfills&amp;nbsp;a stereotype and highlights how much better they are at living and giving.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;An ego not reined in by self and God can misjudge.&amp;nbsp; Even a good, beautiful, giving Christian&amp;nbsp;ego.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, I 'm guilty of it!&amp;nbsp; Despite the fact I've been on both sides--the judged and the judger.&amp;nbsp; Maybe you understand, too.&amp;nbsp; Have you been on both sides, too?&amp;nbsp; I know I still work on not&amp;nbsp;judging others in&amp;nbsp;a self-righteous snit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;It's easy to judge another person's lifestyle when you&amp;nbsp;see a thumbnail and not the&amp;nbsp;full picture.&amp;nbsp; It's easy to think that people who&amp;nbsp;live in a big house and eat out a lot have ample money and should be giving it to the poor or those in need.&amp;nbsp; In our financial services business (closed 2 yrs now) we saw client after client who bought into the American Dream, buying big and often, yet&amp;nbsp;still barely living&amp;nbsp;paycheck to paycheck.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;In American today,&amp;nbsp;granite&amp;nbsp;countertops and hardwood floors don't&amp;nbsp;necessarily indicate wealth, in fact&amp;nbsp;they could spell poverty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;My point is that when&amp;nbsp;people are&amp;nbsp;in the trenches and life is&amp;nbsp;difficult&amp;nbsp;they&amp;nbsp;could&amp;nbsp;think&amp;nbsp;they work more than anyone.&amp;nbsp; They could also think that they&amp;nbsp;help more than anyone, and&amp;nbsp;that they&amp;nbsp;suffer more than anyone.&amp;nbsp; It's&amp;nbsp;very, very easy to place blame on those perceived to be&amp;nbsp;sitting on the sidelines.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;When a person gives it all, emotionally and physically, practically out of breath and shirt dirty and dripping with sweat,&amp;nbsp;it's&amp;nbsp;very easy to judge the person in the clean, dry shirt.&amp;nbsp; I know, I've been&amp;nbsp;scratched and bruised and wondering why the manicured hands aren't helping me.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;But, it's all about perception.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Maybe people have&amp;nbsp;don't have the time it appears.&amp;nbsp; Maybe&amp;nbsp;people don't have money&amp;nbsp;they seem to have.&amp;nbsp; Maybe&amp;nbsp;something external simply doesn't&amp;nbsp;exist on the internal.&amp;nbsp; Maybe we don't see the hours or dollars donated, and the needy people uplifted and served.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;To be effective and&amp;nbsp;help others be effective, we have to be encouragers and supporters.&amp;nbsp; Because when we look at other people, regardless of their circumstances and our&amp;nbsp;prejudices, we truly don't know the&amp;nbsp;whole story.&amp;nbsp; We can never know.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, we have to assume the best and inspire others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Honey is a much better attractor to a cause than vinegar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8623944592589459965?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8623944592589459965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8623944592589459965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8623944592589459965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8623944592589459965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/01/princesses-and-honey.html' title='Princesses and Honey'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4166241221999153143</id><published>2011-01-17T05:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T07:03:10.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rex Ryan, "It's Personal" Plan to Victory</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Theme: Rex Ryan had a winning strategy and I didn't see it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, in the week leading up to Rex Ryan and the Jets playoff game against the Patriots, Ryan shot his mouth off about Brady and Belichick and how "personal" his beef was with the Pats.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I'm like, dude, you're a head coach of a nationally ranked football team.&amp;nbsp; You're a leader and captain of your ship.&amp;nbsp; You're the elite.&amp;nbsp; Stop talking smack!&amp;nbsp; Let your linemen talk smack.&amp;nbsp; You have to rise above it and guide the vessel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I think I might have been wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Let's see, what did that smack talk produce?&amp;nbsp; Ryan galvanized his team.&amp;nbsp; They shut the Pats down and won handily.&amp;nbsp; Two players being interviewed before the game talked about how personal it was with them.&amp;nbsp; Ryan had gotten into their heads.&amp;nbsp; The whole team had a chip on their shoulders and they were out for blood.&amp;nbsp; (Pats had beat them into the ground earlier this year with a 45-3 blowout, btw.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Then, AFTER the game, after the big win against his personal rivalry of Brady and Belicheck, Ryan pulls a 180!&amp;nbsp; I'm like, huh?&amp;nbsp; In his post game interview, Ryan's talking about how Brady is a formidable opponent, the best there is, and how Belichick is the greatest coach in the NFL, probably the best coach of all time.&amp;nbsp; He was sugar coating it so much I about had an insulin rush.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;I have to admit, the guy knew what he was doing.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Here's Ryan's winning&amp;nbsp;game plan:&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;1. Make it personal.&amp;nbsp; Engage your team in your vision and have them make it personal, too.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;2. Study your&amp;nbsp;opponent.&amp;nbsp; Ryan admits he watched the entire footage of the Pats grinding them into the ground 45-3 about 20 times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;3. Elevate your victory.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;When you've conquered your created foe, lavish him/them with praise, thus making the win even more substantial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Could I say Rex Ryan was tilting at windmills?&amp;nbsp; Maybe.&amp;nbsp; Could I say he had the Pats beat before the game even started?&amp;nbsp; Definitely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;P.S.&amp;nbsp; Here's a funny tweet from Jon Acuff (Stuff Christians Like blog): "Rex Ryan announces there's a Pittsburgh hot dog vendor who once slighted him. It's personal with Steelers."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4166241221999153143?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4166241221999153143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4166241221999153143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4166241221999153143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4166241221999153143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/01/rex-ryan-its-personal-plan-to-victory.html' title='Rex Ryan, &quot;It&apos;s Personal&quot; Plan to Victory'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-3349588354614147868</id><published>2011-01-13T06:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T07:06:42.879-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Arizona Shooting is the Haiti Earthquake Part Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Theme: Giving to others might not come in the package we intend, so we have to change our idea of how to give.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;So, the Lefties say the Righties are to blame, and the Righties say the Lefties are to blame for blaming the Righties.&amp;nbsp; To me, the AZ shooting had nothing to do with politics&amp;nbsp;so I don't know how any one of them can insert themselves into the sadness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;But, wait!&amp;nbsp; I do know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Here's what's going on: EGO!&amp;nbsp; Yes, ego.&amp;nbsp; The egos of the Righties and Lefties and Nutjobs are what is driving this insipid&amp;nbsp;political posturing.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;In Arizona they&amp;nbsp;have found a tragedy to exploit to their own benefit.&amp;nbsp; They harumph, pontificate and incite to appear as if they are "concerned," "caring" and "righteous"&amp;nbsp;but in reality, their words are merely noise,&amp;nbsp;blather&amp;nbsp;to&amp;nbsp;shine their faces in the spotlight and garner&amp;nbsp;a little bit of attention that&amp;nbsp;their egos lap&amp;nbsp;up like&amp;nbsp;kitten milk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;It's like the Haiti earthquake all over again.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;I was working for the Red Cross at the time setting up blood drives.&amp;nbsp; We couldn't say that the blood we collected was going to help Haiti victims, but in NC we all knew that FL was sending blood to Haiti and we in NC were sending blood to FL to make up for the loss.&amp;nbsp; We were on appeal for blood, and really pushed getting those extra pints in, extra pints we knew were greatly needed both locally and globally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;BUT, I can't tell you how many people wanted to set up a blood drive "for Haiti."&amp;nbsp; I told them I couldn't do it.&amp;nbsp; We couldn't promise that the blood would go to Haiti.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;As I was taking appointments for&amp;nbsp;one drive, a man came up to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;"I&amp;nbsp;want to make sure my blood&amp;nbsp;is going to Haiti."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;"I can't promise that, we need blood everywhere, not&amp;nbsp;just Haiti."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;"Then I'm not giving."&amp;nbsp; And he walked away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;Um, okay dude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;Another potential blood donor, a&amp;nbsp;gal asked me, "Can't you just send my blood to Haiti?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I can't give in the States, but if my blood just&amp;nbsp;goes to Haiti, then&amp;nbsp;it will be okay, right?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;Um, no.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;Of the myriad of things&amp;nbsp;going through my mind, the first was&amp;nbsp;picturing a&amp;nbsp;healthy Haitian baby contracting a disease from&amp;nbsp;the deferred&amp;nbsp;blood donor.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;I understand that&amp;nbsp;people want to help, I understand that people want to give, but when it doesn't come in the package they intend,&amp;nbsp;instead of&amp;nbsp;changing their outlook on how they can help, they walk.&amp;nbsp; That's ego-giving, not giving.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;When people make it about themselves, even for the good of others, then God isn't working in us.&amp;nbsp; When our egos drive our ambitions,&amp;nbsp;even when we appear&amp;nbsp;magnanimous, then&amp;nbsp;it's not really touching other lives in the way God intends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;We have to be careful&amp;nbsp;of our motives.&amp;nbsp; Our motives are the true barometer of our hearts, and when we&amp;nbsp;act to satisfy our own egos then we fail to act for&amp;nbsp;God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-3349588354614147868?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/3349588354614147868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=3349588354614147868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3349588354614147868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3349588354614147868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/01/arizona-shooting-is-haiti-earthquake.html' title='Arizona Shooting is the Haiti Earthquake Part Two'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-7451623411185857125</id><published>2011-01-11T14:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T14:04:36.577-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's worth fighting for</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Sam: There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it's worth fighting for. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;Yes, I believe there IS good in this world, and it's worth fighting for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;Something about the Arizona shooting, not the shooting itself, or the people killed, or the lives fractured, but the aftermath of the tragedy has given me hope.&amp;nbsp;It's given me hope that decent people still rise up, take action, and protect those who need it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;Politicians and others (while victims were still fighting for their lives and families were fresh with grief over those killed) used the situation to promote their&amp;nbsp;particular ideologies.&amp;nbsp; BUT, saner heads prevailed, and those who might have&amp;nbsp;used the devastation to springboard their agendas have been silenced.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;Those idiots who protest funerals are planning to picket the 9-year-old little girl's funeral.&amp;nbsp; BUT, they&amp;nbsp;will be shut out.&amp;nbsp; Quite literally&amp;nbsp;by angel wings, built high and large to shield the family and friends from&amp;nbsp;their&amp;nbsp;satanic protest and destructive&amp;nbsp;signage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;People can do good, and they do.&amp;nbsp; People can see truth.&amp;nbsp; People can help others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;"&gt;There is good in this world, Mr. Frodo, there is.&amp;nbsp; And, it's worth fighting for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-7451623411185857125?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/7451623411185857125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=7451623411185857125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7451623411185857125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7451623411185857125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/01/its-worth-fighting-for.html' title='It&apos;s worth fighting for'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5087929240227994790</id><published>2011-01-09T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-09T10:00:51.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breathing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;I'm trying to stay away from the news, but I just can't.&amp;nbsp; It assaults&amp;nbsp;me everywhere.&amp;nbsp; I was listening to the radio on my one, one, one day to Xmas shop without the kids, and I heard about a little girl about Anna's age dying in a car accident.&amp;nbsp; Her mother was driving.&amp;nbsp; Days before Christmas.&amp;nbsp; I picture her presents&amp;nbsp;wrapped and under the tree.&amp;nbsp; I picture her excitement and parties and fun.&amp;nbsp; But, then she's gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;I can think of no words, not even a prayer.&amp;nbsp; I remember driving and crying and screaming.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Now, today, I happened upon the news and the mother of the little girl shot to death at the AZ shooting massacre was being interviewed by phone, and&amp;nbsp;the mom's&amp;nbsp;distraught voice tight and hard with grief still echoes in my ears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;And sadness fills my heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;There is no pain greater on this planet than a parent losing a child.&amp;nbsp; None.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;And, I revisit driving to my former coworker's son's viewing on Friday night, and attending my friend's son's funeral, and the Haiti blogs of children no longer here.&amp;nbsp; Death that comes too soon and too suddenly to children&amp;nbsp;fills me with so much loss and hopelessness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;I try to turn to God, and I pray fervently for the parents left behind, but I still seek His hope.&amp;nbsp; His promise of hope, and it's hard to&amp;nbsp;find it behind the cloud of grief and the tears shed too many.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;So, I hug my children tighter, and relax more in the moments that would cause me stress.&amp;nbsp; I stroke their hair and brush their cheeks and cling to them.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;Life is fragile and short.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5087929240227994790?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5087929240227994790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5087929240227994790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5087929240227994790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5087929240227994790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/01/breathing.html' title='Breathing'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-7025226310811424391</id><published>2011-01-06T14:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T14:02:25.341-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Homeschooling</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"&gt;It's dificult to say who's learned more from Homeschooling this past semester, me or the kiddoes.&amp;nbsp; I would gather moi.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"&gt;I fretted over curriculae that turned out we didn't need.&amp;nbsp; I worried about them falling behind, which is a fallacy of traditional school.&amp;nbsp; I agonized that I wasn't cut out for out this.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"&gt;But then, as always, the kids put it into perspective for me.&amp;nbsp; "Mom, I get to hug you anytime I want during the day."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"&gt;Wow.&amp;nbsp; Doesn't get much better than that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"&gt;I'm still fretting and worrying and agonizing about the delivery system, but I rest comfortably knowing it's the right thing at this right time for our specific family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-7025226310811424391?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/7025226310811424391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=7025226310811424391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7025226310811424391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7025226310811424391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2011/01/homeschooling.html' title='Homeschooling'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4676322472326491430</id><published>2010-07-09T05:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T05:40:30.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtiani Sentenced to Death by Stoning</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, Iran buckled (surprisingly) to international outcry about stoning to death the woman, who after 99 lashes admitted to adultery. They will probably hang her instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about you, but after about 2 lashes, I'd probably admit to about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone told me that stoning is rare in the Middle East. Yeah? Well, in Iran as of this morning 12 women and 3 men await death by stoning. They currently execute at least 388 people a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Iran, as in most Muslim Countries, gender differences make all the difference. Accused women are guilty and must prove themselves innocent. Accused men are innocent and it must be proved they are guilty. Wow, THAT'S fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Amnesty International for making light of this woman's case and creating a world wide outrage. I guess her death by hanging for a crime she didn't commit and was already punished for by 99 lashes is better than stoning. I guess. I have an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;arsenal&lt;/span&gt; of profanity I'd like to insert here, but picture what a really drunk sailor would say and you get the idea. My dad was in the Navy so you know I have the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;repertoire&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, AI, thanks! I sometimes don't get you, but you're right on the money here. Where, I must ask VERY politely, are the women's groups? What does NOW have to say? Where is the Feminist Majority?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have to keep putting pressure on these barbaric countries to quit kangaroo courts and quick executions (as in the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;heart wrenching&lt;/span&gt; case of the 7 yr old boy who was hanged), and coerced "confessions" to elicit horrendous punishments such as 99 lashes and death by stoning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the USA needs to reconsider the death penalty. We need to abolish it. And, we need to fight for human rights in the world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out these stats:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Country/Number executed in 2009 (from Amnesty International):&lt;br /&gt;1 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="People's Republic of China" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/People%27s_Republic_of_China"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Capital punishment in the People's Republic of China" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_punishment_in_the_People%27s_Republic_of_China"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;People's Republic of China&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Officially not released At least 1700 (estimated)&lt;br /&gt;2 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Iran" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iran"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Capital punishment in Iran" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_punishment_in_Iran"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Iran&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 388&lt;br /&gt;3 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Iraq" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iraq"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Capital punishment in Iraq" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_punishment_in_Iraq"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Iraq&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 120&lt;br /&gt;4 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Saudi Arabia" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saudi_Arabia"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Capital punishment in Saudi Arabia" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_punishment_in_Saudi_Arabia"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Saudi Arabia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 69&lt;br /&gt;5 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="United States" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Capital punishment in the United States" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_punishment_in_the_United_States"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;United States&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52&lt;br /&gt;6 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Yemen" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yemen"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Yemen" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yemen"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yemen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 30&lt;br /&gt;7 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Sudan" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sudan"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Sudan" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sudan"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sudan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 9&lt;br /&gt;8 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Vietnam" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vietnam"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Vietnam" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vietnam"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Vietnam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 9&lt;br /&gt;9 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Syria" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syria"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Syria" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syria"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Syria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 8&lt;br /&gt;10 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Japan" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japan"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Capital punishment in Japan" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_punishment_in_Japan"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Japan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7&lt;br /&gt;11 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Egypt" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Egypt"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Capital punishment in Egypt" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_punishment_in_Egypt"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Egypt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 5&lt;br /&gt;12 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Libya" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Libya"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Libya" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Libya"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Libya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 4&lt;br /&gt;13 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Bangladesh" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bangladesh"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Bangladesh" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bangladesh"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Bangladesh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3&lt;br /&gt;14 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Thailand" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thailand"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Thailand" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thailand"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thailand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2&lt;br /&gt;15 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Singapore" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Singapore"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Capital punishment in Singapore" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_punishment_in_Singapore"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Singapore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least 1&lt;br /&gt;16 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Botswana" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Botswana"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Botswana" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Botswana"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Botswana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1&lt;br /&gt;17 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Malaysia" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malaysia"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Capital punishment in Malaysia" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_punishment_in_Malaysia"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Malaysia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unreleased&lt;br /&gt;18 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="North Korea" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_Korea"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="Capital punishment in North Korea" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Capital_punishment_in_North_Korea"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;North Korea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unreleased&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4676322472326491430?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4676322472326491430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4676322472326491430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4676322472326491430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4676322472326491430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2010/07/sakineh-mohammadi-ashtiani-sentenced-to.html' title='Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtiani Sentenced to Death by Stoning'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4338205726899769034</id><published>2010-07-06T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T13:06:14.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm done with my 14 month hiatus from blogging.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I quit my job, gained 20 pounds (ugh), and took my kids out of school to homeschool them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Today was our first day in Homeschool.  Here is the plus/delta at the end of the school day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Plus: got to put on a play, spongebob song from youtube, crush cups for snacks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Delta: play didn't turn out as they'd like, ran aroud the room when they weren't supposed to, and they didn't get a pinata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seriously?  They thought they'd be getting a pinata? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I waaay oversold this homeschool gig. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4338205726899769034?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4338205726899769034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4338205726899769034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4338205726899769034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4338205726899769034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2010/07/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m back...'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-3435171585199358069</id><published>2009-05-30T11:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T12:06:37.335-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Reverence</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Do not be quick with your mouth, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;do not be hasty in your heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;to utter anything before God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;God is in heaven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;and you are on earth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;so let your words be few.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As a dream comes when there are many cares,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;so the speech of a fool when there are many words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ecclesiastes 5:11&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I read Ecclesiastes this morning.  I've never read it, I don't think.  Some of the passages were familiar, and the most well-known verse about the "time for every purpose under heaven..." stuff was the one keeping me away.  I just can't stand the repetitiveness of that song, turn, turn, turn...ugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But, I needed the wisdom of Solomon and I just couldn't start in with those Proverbs.  Great and profound stuff mind you, but my goodness you can only take it in small bites.  Not a meal.  And, today, I needed a meal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've been a bit petulant lately.  Okay, okay...not "a bit" a whole lot!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've been feeling like I'm a bench warmer.  When did I leave the game?  I was on track, God's wind blowing into my sails, and I was on point.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;something's&lt;/span&gt; happened over the past year and now I'm starting to see it as a transformation of me as a person.  God's working on me to make me the person he wants me to be.  Unfortunately, I'm still struggling to see it that way.  Intellectually I can grasp what he's doing.  Emotionally, I feel slapped down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've been seeing it as: This is not fair!  I'm a player, for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cryin&lt;/span&gt;' out loud, not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt; who's accustomed to being a bench blanket.  I count!  I can play!  I need to be used!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;All the while I sit and watch while God infuses his magnificence into everyone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; lives, and leaves me as an inert member of the team, watching...painfully watching as others utilize their talents for his glory and I sit back and wait for the call that doesn't come.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When I &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; get going on my little pity party about how God is weaving his Kingdom with everyone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;else's&lt;/span&gt; thread and not mine I can attribute it to my lack of youth or increased weight.  If only I were thinner and younger, then I could make a difference, then he'd use me, then others would allow me to join in the game.  I am shunned because of time and appearance.  (You can see how dangerous it is when we allow the "woe is me" festival to continue--of course, it manifests differently for all of us, your issue may not be age or weight, but we all have chinks in our armor that the enemy will utilize given the chance.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My father will be 80 years old in August and he is currently building a restaurant empire.  When he was 50 he built a business from the ground up that made him his first million.  At 32 he fathered me (in an age where 30 was considered over the hill).  Now, if anything can teach me age is definitely not an issue, it's watching my dad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And, the extra pounds?  Man, it's hard to lose weight.  I work out every day.  I eat healthfully.  I limit my intake.  I'm trying to get the dose on my thyroid &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt; figured out.  It's just plain tough, but I'm not giving up.  But it's hard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And so today I'm practicing more reverence and less petulance.  Understanding that sometimes we're the main players and sometimes we support the main players, but it's all for the good of the kingdom and the advancement of the kingdom.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mostly, I'm trying to become what God wants me to be, not getting God to support who I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-3435171585199358069?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/3435171585199358069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=3435171585199358069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3435171585199358069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3435171585199358069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2009/05/more-reverence.html' title='More Reverence'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-2841284497338270512</id><published>2009-05-08T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T17:58:18.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Elsie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So I volunteered in son's class.  He was excited to see me arrive on the playground in the heat of the day, and met me with a sweaty hug and big sloppy kiss.  As he fell into line to head back into the classroom, he grabbed my hand with his big paw, and pulled me with him, "C'mon, Mom, c'mahhhn."  The heat doesn't slow the little ones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As my body met the cool air of the building, son's little classmate Elsie fell into my legs and then others who knew me greeted me with the Kindergarten hug.  I think that's the last year they do that.  In First Grade they don't need that reassurance.  But in Kindergarten they're still mushy and needy little creatures.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Elsie caught me later.  "Come, do the book with me."  I patted her curly brown hair and said, "I can help you a little, but I'm here to help everyone."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She wouldn't take no for an answer.  She tugged at my sleeve and after trying to pull away a few times to work with the other kids including my own son, I ended up helping her write her latest publication, "The Hungry Kindergartener."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When next she insisted I take up a wand and help her read the room, I realized I wasn't going to spend time with any other kids that day.  Elsie needed me.  She needed someone.  She needed attention.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So I gave it to her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Son's teacher later let me know that Elsie didn't have a mom, and so she clung on to subsitutes in various forms at school. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Of course, as a mom myself, that devastates me.  And, at the same time, I'm worried that one of the few times I get to volunteer in son's class, I didn't spend any time with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But, son was fine.  His Center that day was Legos with his best friend Rialto.  Occasionally, he'd come over and show me a speed boat or jet fighter he'd fashioned from the bold colored pieces, but he seemed content to work with Rialto and let me spend time with Elsie.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Maybe on some level he understood that she needed my attention, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-2841284497338270512?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/2841284497338270512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=2841284497338270512' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/2841284497338270512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/2841284497338270512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2009/05/elsie.html' title='Elsie'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6739660177093597718</id><published>2009-05-03T18:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T19:18:17.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Miss Understood</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Have you every been misunderstood?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Have you ever gone along with it just because it's easier to let someone believe a falsehood than it is to change their mind?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One time I made a comment to a friend about how I would not show violent films to his kids while they were in my house. I knew it was an issue for him. I was being earnest. He thought I was being bratty. He made a joke of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I tried to tell him I was being sensitive, yet he firmly held the belief that I was bratty. To convince him otherwise fell on deaf ears. So, it was easier for me to let him think I was being a bratty sister in Christ rather than try to persuade him that I really cared about his beliefs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;That happens to me all the time. Not just every so often, but I would say about ONCE A DAY. Regularly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Today the sermon touched on Jesus' teaching that we need to make things right with people who are angry with us, regardless of...anything. If someone is angry with you, you have a duty to make it right. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tough concept. Tougher implementation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I have this friend who thinks I'm probably the rudest person on the planet. We don't speak anymore because he and his family went to another church and are in a different Life Group, and run in different circles. Not a blowout, no angry words or last goodbyes. Just welcomed distance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He thinks I'm the rudest person on the planet because every time we get together I do something that annoys him. I interrupted his conversation. I didn't say please. I didn't thank him. There's a hundred different things I didn't do. And he noted every one of them. And, as I noticed that this was going on, I couldn't stop it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I wanted to, mind you. I wanted to show him that I'm a grateful person. That I have manners. That I love him and his wife. That I can be decent. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But, it was like I was jinxed. Seriously, I couldn't act normal around him. I can give you excuses; hard, credible, completely understandable excuses as to why I interrupted his conversation, why I didn't say please, and why I forgot to thank him. I have valid excuses that any normal person would comprehend. But, excuses are pointless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Have you ever felt like that? Like there's a wall up around someone and no matter what you do, you can't break in? Everything welcoming gesture you make will be defeated. Every movement you take will be misinterpreted. They won't know the depth of your heart, or your caring toward them. They won't see your gentle soul, and the warm and tender heart within. They won't see you as anything except what they suppose you to be, some shell of a character like a spoiled brat, an ungrateful woman, a greedy child. Those are nothing your heart holds, yet it's all they see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I wrote about a fictional business on my blog and I hurt a lot a people. (To tell you the truth, I didn't know anyone but a handful of peeps read my blog.) Some were hurt just a little, and some very deeply. That's a bad result of getting on your soapbox with your righteousness and anger in full frontal display and your facts shaky or mismatched at best. I was talking about one business I love, and another business I'm glad to be away from, and another that I'm ambivalent about. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And, I was trying to do what? I don't know. Not hurt people, that's for sure. Yet, that's all I did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I liken it to having a small trickle of water coming into a dark, stone cell, and weeping bitterly about only getting a trickle, then having the trickle dry up. I weep for wanting the trickle of water that I wept over because it was just a trickle. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And, I won't delete my words from my blog. That's cowardly. That's hiding in the shadows. If I said it, I need to live with it. Even though it brought me pain and distance from people I love. So, I email the people who contacted me and explain what I meant and it's all over. It's done. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But, it's not. They hurt, and I hurt that they hurt, and I hurt that I'm once again misunderstood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I've gotten so used to being misunderstood that I've also gotten lazy about dealing with it. I simply let it go, and hope I can move on, or have another chance, or best of all, rely on their faith to make them give me compassion and grace. &lt;strong&gt;Talk about hypocrisy on my part!! &lt;/strong&gt;Using God's directive to my advantage so I don't have to dive into difficult conversations or convince people their beliefs are incorrect. That's difficult, exhausting work. You have to stay vigilant and on your guard. You have to stay present and focused.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I can just let it go because I know the truth. I know the goodness in my own heart. Even if it's not seen by another. "Let them think what they will," I say, "it's not my fault!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;BUT...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The words of Jesus tell me that I hold responsibility even when I'm not at fault.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Matthew 5:23-24 "Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your brother has something against you.&lt;/em&gt; Not: if you ticked off your brother. Not: if you did something wrong, go fix it. Not: if you had a good excuse, then you don't have to go. No, no, no.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It says, if &lt;strong&gt;he&lt;/strong&gt; has something&lt;strong&gt; against&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Regardless of...anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, now a LIFETIME of being misunderstood must be stopped. I have been directed to stop it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;That's huge. I've spent my life being hurt by people who don't understand me, but letting it go because it's not my problem. It's theirs. But, Jesus says it IS my problem. Whoa. This is HUGE, indeed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now I have to begin...this moment. And, I have to figure out how to take out this thorn that has been bitterly uncomfortable, yet has been something to which I've grown accustomed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-6739660177093597718?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6739660177093597718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=6739660177093597718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6739660177093597718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6739660177093597718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2009/05/miss-understood.html' title='Miss Understood'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4318584478267341386</id><published>2009-04-27T16:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T17:09:09.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>curt</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I first met Curt in the Cairo airport. We'd emailed each other a few times before this jet-lagged rumpled shirt meeting, and he confessed to having a thing for redheads. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My email at the time had been &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:cathyrdh@aol.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;cathyrdh@aol.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;, and he assumed the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rdh&lt;/span&gt; stood for redhead not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;RDH&lt;/span&gt; as in Registered Dental Hygienist. He had already taken a shine to the gal behind the moniker. And, my hair was a tad red at the time, so even though I explained it to him, I don't think he ever thought differently than "Cathy Redhead." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I proceeded to spend the next month traveling Egypt with Curt, his wife &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Bev&lt;/span&gt; and a handful of well-traveled and delightfully interesting people. As I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;traipsed&lt;/span&gt; solo through the North African desert, Curt and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bev&lt;/span&gt; quickly became my surrogate parents though they had a decade on my own 'rents. We smoked hookahs in a tea house, ate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;shishkabobs&lt;/span&gt; in a star-blanketed picnic on the bank of the Nile, and even raced through the cocoa dunes on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;camel back&lt;/span&gt;. The trip was magical, and the company a joy. Departing Cairo at the end of the long and other-worldly adventure, I thought, well, here's another pair to add to my Christmas card list.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I couldn't have been more wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Curt told Howard the last time we saw each other that I was his "best friend." He was 88 years old and had flown out for a wedding in Virginia. He rented a car and drove a total of 8 hours to see us for one precious night. We laughed and he talked non-stop about his adventures. He had just gotten back from Japan, where he and his wife had lived for a year teaching English many years ago. He'd reconnected with old friends there and surveyed the changes in his old stomping grounds. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He told us of the sale of his house, the one he and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Bev&lt;/span&gt; had purchased in the sixties when GE had moved them from East to West Coast. A few million-dollar bidding war ensued for the pretty property with gorgeous gardens in Los Altos. Not that he needed to worry about retirement income. He had invested well, and after leaving the corporate world, he spent his time with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Bev&lt;/span&gt; volunteering and traveling the globe. I was fortunate enough to meet them on one of those jaunts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We stayed in touch, we emailed often, and, when I moved out to CA, I found myself a mere 20-minute drive from their home. They had my sister and me in for tea, for lunch and for friendship. My sister became a pen pal/mentor to their special needs granddaughter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Bev&lt;/span&gt; got breast cancer, we prayed for healing, and God delivered. She joked about her wigs and gave us her trademark laugh, but there was worry in Curt's eyes. He couldn't hide his concern and I'm not sure he even tried. He was a gentle, sensitive soul, and loved to tease.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When I got married, Curt and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Bev&lt;/span&gt; had a honorary place at my mother's side. They toasted us, and we wished to emulate their marriage and their gusto for life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Curt and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Bev&lt;/span&gt; held my newborn daughter in their arms, babysat her in their home on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;occasion&lt;/span&gt;, and even donned little pink party hats at her first year birthday party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When the cancer came back, it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Bev&lt;/span&gt; who kept &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; spirits up. But you could see Curt start to crumble. We'd moved away by the time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Bev&lt;/span&gt; lost her battle, and had only email and cards to connect us to Curt. It was enough. Friendships aren't written in time spent by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt; side, but in the depth of your heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The letter came in the mail today. The three daughters sent out a form letter to the people in Curt's address book and told us that he'd suffered another stroke. He died in his own bed on tax day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Howard had tears in his eyes when he told me the news. I said, "Now, he's with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Bev&lt;/span&gt; and they're together again."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And, my friend is gone, but not forever gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4318584478267341386?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4318584478267341386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4318584478267341386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4318584478267341386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4318584478267341386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2009/04/curt.html' title='curt'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6844871455818352752</id><published>2009-04-27T15:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T13:13:31.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3 biz</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So I got so much email about my last post, and I think I've offended some people, so if you think I was writing about your business, I probably wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, I was trying to make a statement of those who don't practice what they preach, and I did base it off of three real, live businesses I'm in contact with. Well, just know, that I was talking about how bad it is not to practice what you preach. And, even I'm guilty of that. (I'm a parent!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have other pressing thoughts on my mind today, so I'll have to delve into this topic at a later date...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-6844871455818352752?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6844871455818352752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=6844871455818352752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6844871455818352752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6844871455818352752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2009/04/3-biz.html' title='3 biz'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5954511550311457293</id><published>2009-04-18T08:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T05:58:47.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the matrix</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;So I know this business. It runs at a deficit. It's a noble place, doing good in the community and helping those less fortunate. But, it runs in the red...as in red like our Carolina soil.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;And it preaches for people to live within their means. And it teaches families how create a budget and stick to it. And it praises those who become and stay debt free. Great stuff, right? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;Only, the business doesn't follow those rules. The business has large debt and doesn't work within a prudent budget. The business is above the rules, not because it's "holier than thou," but because it does God's work: aiding the poor and stregthening the weak. It takes money to do that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;So, I'm left wondering...can it really preach a Dave Ramsey lifestyle to its customers when the business itself can't do better than most households in America?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;What would you say to the business owner?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;I asked one time and I got a cryptic answer about how the business is not making the money it should based on the matrix of similarly sized businesses. The customers just need to buy more. Hmmm, I didn't know it worked that way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;With that logic, if I buy a bigger house with a bigger mortgage, but my household income stays the same, then I need to go to my employer and say, I need more money. You need to pay me more becuase I should be making more based on the matrix of similarly educated individuals. The matrix says I should be making more than I do, so you need to pay me that because that's where I set my budget. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;My employer is going to look at me like I'm sporting a pink mohawk. What I get is what I get based on the job I have here, not what another widget worker in Cincinnati or down the street is making. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;What this business earns it what it earns. It doesn't matter what the matrix says it SHOULD earn, it earns what it earns.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;Instead of basing their budget on real-life intake, they base their budget on a matrix that clearly doesn't apply. They spend what the widget factory on the next block spends, even though the other factory generates more income.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;People who use this business are encouraged to base their budget on their current household income, but the business itself designs its own budget based on a matrix of identical companies? Huh? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;Honestly, the whole thing confuses me. I think I'll go consult the matrix.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5954511550311457293?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5954511550311457293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5954511550311457293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5954511550311457293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5954511550311457293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2009/04/matrix.html' title='the matrix'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-3645765675080085994</id><published>2009-04-13T16:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T16:57:41.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bridges vs. canyons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;It's difficult to stay on the right path when the enemy whispers in our ear at every chance--noticing even the smallest chink in our armor--and he's ready and willing to parade our fears and faults in front of us like an over-the-top Macy's Thanksgiving Day event.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;When I'm tired, I allow anger to take shape. And, when I'm feeling abandoned, alone or abused by another COG (child of God), I'm righteous in how I'm going to "get back" at those who have wronged me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Mostly, I'll turn and run. Nothing says "you pissed me off" like a Grand Canyon of distance coupled with the silence on the moon. You want me? Well, now you can't have me! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;But, did they "tick me off" or am I just being overly sensitive? Do they even notice the chasm between us? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;It comes down to communication. Taking the difficult step and mangling the words crafted to express what's going on with me and inquiring what's going on with you. Bridging understanding rather than giving up. Beating on like a boat against the current.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's hard. But, it's what we should do. Because, so often it's not about what "they" did to "us," it's about how "we" took it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-3645765675080085994?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/3645765675080085994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=3645765675080085994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3645765675080085994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3645765675080085994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-difficult-to-stay-on-right-path.html' title='bridges vs. canyons'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-3039007793075787125</id><published>2009-04-02T06:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T06:32:40.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's not about the money</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So she said, "but that's not &lt;em&gt;helping &lt;/em&gt;people!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When our church put up butcher paper along the walls and asked the congregants (love that silly word) to offer ways to help those in need or ask for help from others, Hubby and I grabbed pens.  Hubby asked for help finding a job, and we also offered some ways we could help out others in our community.  One way was to invite people to join us at our table.  Our cup &lt;em&gt;and plates &lt;/em&gt;runneth over, so we thought, hey, guys, come on over!  We'll make you dinner.  Our kids can play.  We can talk and eat.  We'll do the dishes.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seemed reasonable enough to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;She didn't think so.  She thinks we need to make meals and deliver them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"But," I said, "others are doing that.  Inviting people to our table for company and companionship and good food is what we're giving."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"That's putting strings with your gift," she protested.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"No, that IS the gift," I shot back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;See, we get so caught up in thinking we have to give&lt;em&gt; things&lt;/em&gt; to people.  Money, food, clothes, whatever, we concentrate solely on transfering items to people.  And that's good.  But, I sincerely believe that there's more.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Jesus invited us into a relationship with him.  He's all about the relationship, with him and between all of us.  You can't have a relationship with someone when you drop off a meal &lt;em&gt;and leave&lt;/em&gt;.  Or, you take a bag of clothes to a shelter.  Or, you write a check.  Those aren't relational.  Those are important, but they're not the whole story and they don't delve into what Jesus is about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Likewise, just because someone has money doesn't mean they don't need someone to minister to them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My church spends a lot of time on the poor.  And, that's great.  I love them for it.  But, in my church's backyard is a very wealthy part of town.  The attitude of some congregants is that "those wealthy people" need to give more and do more for the less fortunate in our society.  And, that could be true.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;However, does anyone ever ask, how can we minister to "those wealthy people?"  They may have full bank accounts and full bellies, but they are probably emotionally bankrupt.  You don't have to be poor to be desititute.  The rich need compassion and love, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We get so caught up in the "helping the poor" that we forget we are directed to help EVERYONE!  Not just someone who doesn't have food or shelter.  We are required to do that.  But, how about doing something harder?  How about helping out a rich person?  How about helping heal their heart?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;God is above money, and we should be too.  But far too often when it comes to ministry it's totally focused on money--who has it, who doesn't, and how we can get the people who have it to give it to the people who don't.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But, what if we sidestepped money?  What if we didn't rate peoples' needs on the basis of their bank accounts? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What would it look like if a financially deprived person who is heart healthy helped a financially sound person who is heart heavy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-3039007793075787125?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/3039007793075787125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=3039007793075787125' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3039007793075787125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3039007793075787125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-not-about-money.html' title='it&apos;s not about the money'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4337074366748751696</id><published>2009-02-14T05:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-14T05:28:57.489-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More questions than answers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So the question is, do you need to have your issue resolved before you can minister in that area? Like a drunk still drinking, can he be an AA sponsor? Or, a sex addict still indulging but guiding others away from porn?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The answer seems obvious, you say, "of course not!" So do I.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But is it really that simple?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What about the mother whose own mother's atrocities keep her from repeating the error? Or, the woman who uses the lessons from her abusive ex to forge a good marriage?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What if these people still harbor hatred and venom and use that to make goodness? Does it taint the good being done? Is it vinegar instead of wine?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4337074366748751696?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4337074366748751696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4337074366748751696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4337074366748751696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4337074366748751696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-question-is-do-you-need-to-have-your.html' title='More questions than answers'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-712506283014422034</id><published>2009-01-28T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T18:43:43.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Visions are born in the soul of a man or woman who is consumed with the tension between what is and what could be.”--Andy Stanley, Visioneering&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call it mid-life crisis, or Spring Fever, or what-have-you, I have tension and no vision. Hubby and I are going through a period together of figuring out what our world needs to look like. And, it's not easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do we live, what do we do, how do we live, what is our lifestyle, what does God want us to do, how can we give...the possibilities for us are mind-boggling, yet there are only a few right answers. We just can't see them in the myriad of choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a pea soup foggy day, the kind I used to love in San Francisco, as the fog bank would roll in off the ocean and down the Bay in the late afternoons. And that's how my mind felt this morning. Thick with droplets as many as the stars in the sky, it was like walking through an airborne sea, and I was unable to contemplate the drops individually. I saw only the mass, the huge rolls of white clouds blanketing the trees and the ground equally, but I could not rest my eyes on a single drop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is that drop, God, that is Cat and Hubby's perfect drop? What is it you want us to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-712506283014422034?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/712506283014422034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=712506283014422034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/712506283014422034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/712506283014422034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2009/01/fog.html' title='Fog'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8410049010863265933</id><published>2008-12-22T08:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T08:52:06.383-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Challenge</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's easy to be cavalier about money when you have it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's easy to give love when you are filled with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's easy to help others when you have time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's easy to give generously when you're overflowing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Easy stuff is, well, easy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The challenge is to do something difficult. The challenge in life is to give, help, offer and love when you don't feel like it, when you're sure you can't do it, when you're positive it will zap you dry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The widow who gave her few coins epitomizes our directive to give and trust whether or not we have some to spare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am going to challenge myself to follow her example.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8410049010863265933?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8410049010863265933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8410049010863265933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8410049010863265933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8410049010863265933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-challenge.html' title='Christmas Challenge'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6026056743672784420</id><published>2008-11-27T10:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T10:52:47.719-08:00</updated><title type='text'>thankful</title><content type='html'>I'm thankful for...&lt;br /&gt;my family&lt;br /&gt;my friends&lt;br /&gt;my community&lt;br /&gt;the love I have from those around me&lt;br /&gt;our home&lt;br /&gt;my life&lt;br /&gt;God's love&lt;br /&gt;Hubby's meat cooking skills&lt;br /&gt;my job&lt;br /&gt;my coworkers&lt;br /&gt;saving lives everyday&lt;br /&gt;making a difference where I can&lt;br /&gt;reading&lt;br /&gt;listening to audiobooks&lt;br /&gt;listening to my kids play, laugh, ANYTHING they do&lt;br /&gt;talking and laughing with Hubby and drinking coffee&lt;br /&gt;eating, cooking, drinking, tasting, spending time in the kitchen with Hubby&lt;br /&gt;baking with the kids&lt;br /&gt;our health&lt;br /&gt;our church&lt;br /&gt;our Life Group&lt;br /&gt;freedom&lt;br /&gt;living in the USA&lt;br /&gt;our skills and talents to share&lt;br /&gt;my truck&lt;br /&gt;the kids' school&lt;br /&gt;playing Wii with the fam&lt;br /&gt;writing&lt;br /&gt;Heroes, 24, football, Netflix&lt;br /&gt;being able to be thankful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Thanksgiving!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-6026056743672784420?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6026056743672784420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=6026056743672784420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6026056743672784420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6026056743672784420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/11/thankful.html' title='thankful'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-9173354081503660146</id><published>2008-11-23T09:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T09:29:26.539-08:00</updated><title type='text'>romans 12:2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;So, Romans 12:2 came up again.  It was in large print on two of the three screens at church today.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;It says...Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;"Renewing of your mind" is the part that captivates me.  Or, better put, God is laying out for me to chew on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;So, pastor uno was talking about the only real change happening when we change how we think, our paradigms, because that affects how we act and the results with which we end up.  Our hearts dictate our mouths. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;As John Eldredge puts it--in a good book I'm reading (&lt;em&gt;Walking With God&lt;/em&gt;)--he found himself at a point in his twenties (or thirties?) where a 17 year old was giving him advice.  He had to reexamine a belief about God he'd formed at 17.  He need to reanalyze it as an adult.  How many times do we do that?  Come up with a philosophy at a point in our lives where we're ill prepared to make it, and yet then still have it dictate our lives?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"&gt;I need to work on renewing my mind.  There are concrete philosophies I hold as truth, yet I know I've come to those conclusions at times in my life when I wasn't on point.  What beliefs do you hold true that were formed when you were less apt to make good decisions?  Or, have you always been perfect?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-9173354081503660146?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/9173354081503660146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=9173354081503660146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/9173354081503660146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/9173354081503660146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/11/romans-122.html' title='romans 12:2'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-1078707773002198134</id><published>2008-11-09T06:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T06:26:46.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'>to succeed you must first fail</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;We watched "Meet the Robinsons" and one scene really stuck out.  The main character, a boy inventor, tried to fix one of his inventions and failed.  The group of people around him cheered, "You failed!" as if he'd won the pennant.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Their thinking: failure is a step toward success.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;We can't be so afraid of failing that we don't try lest we fail.  If we fail to fail we fail to learn, grow and finally, succeed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;How many times did Lance Armstrong finish last?  How many intercepted passes did Brett Farve throw?  How many goals did Wayne Gretzky miss?  How many elections did Abraham Lincoln lose?  We don't remember the failures, we remember the successes.  But there is never success without failure.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;One character in the movie said, "You learn from failure, from success, not so much."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;How true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-1078707773002198134?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/1078707773002198134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=1078707773002198134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1078707773002198134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1078707773002198134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/11/to-succeed-you-must-first-fail.html' title='to succeed you must first fail'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6505493655749923685</id><published>2008-10-26T05:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T05:16:57.675-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Halloween is here.  And it's time for the "question."  It pops up as frequently as pumpkin "farms" on every vacant lot between Apex and North Raleigh.  The perennial Christian query, "Do you celebrate Halloween?"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;As if true Christians would actually partake in pagan rituals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;"Why, yes," I answer, "we do.  Tomorrow we're dancing naked in the backyard and drinking the blood of a stray cat."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;C'mon people.  We celebrate Halloween like we celebrate Valentine's Day.  It's not about worshipping the devil.  It's a day for the kids to dress up as their favorite princess or superhero and have a little fun.  &lt;em&gt;Lighten up.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;We take our kids trick-or-treating.  (I know: &lt;em&gt;GASP&lt;/em&gt;!)  It's a social time for our neighborhood.  We've done it every year since we moved here, my son's whole life.  The two cul-de-sacs get together and walk our kids around our neck of the woods.  We adults have time to talk and catch up.  The kids have fun.  The older kids watch out for the younger ones.  There's plenty of laughter to share.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;It's Norman Rockwell.  It's harmless.  It's communion with our community.  Trick-or-treating can be a mission in itself when you reach out to your neighbors with different backgrounds and different beliefs.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;And, isn't that what we're supposed to do as Christians?  Share the faith by showing how we live and commune with others?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-6505493655749923685?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6505493655749923685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=6505493655749923685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6505493655749923685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6505493655749923685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/10/boo.html' title='Boo!'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-1808271340414278630</id><published>2008-10-19T05:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T05:53:54.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>god sign</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Obedience doesn't come naturally.  I watch my children and it's bold face underline obvious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Same with me.  I'm striving to be obedient to God and mostly that means to dive into scripture and keep my mouth shut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On Friday, I went over "the list."  Galatians 5:22, the fruit of the spirit.  So, I'm counting them off on my hands.  9 to be exact.  Starting with the index finger on the right hand: Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness; and moving to the left thumb: Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness and Self-Control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Out of that counting, I get my own gang sign.  Like a God sign.  With the ones that I've got covered, like Joy, the finger goes back to the palm.  The others stick out...pretty much like they stick out in my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Patience, Faithfulness, Gentleness and Self-Control.  Yo, yo, God, what up?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;What's your God sign?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Oh, and a caveat: if you only have to work on Joy or Gentleness, or both, don't show your "God sign" to your pastor or neighbor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-1808271340414278630?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/1808271340414278630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=1808271340414278630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1808271340414278630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1808271340414278630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/10/god-sign.html' title='god sign'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-1058651891073769298</id><published>2008-10-18T06:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T06:34:14.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pain in the neck</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm a pain in the neck.  No, well, yes maybe, but more clearly I &lt;em&gt;have&lt;/em&gt; a pain in the neck.  It's been there for about a week.  I can't figure out what to do about it.  I'm popping Ibuprofen like candy and I'm wondering...am I stressed?  Do I sit un-ergonomically at work?  Is it a sign?  Am I sleeping strangely?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, what to do?  Typically, hit it on all fronts.  Isn't that what we do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm buying new pillows today.  I'm cutting back on computer time.  I'm going to powerwalk today.  I've taken my pills.  Man, that's gotta have some effect on something, if not my neck...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Everytime we get a kink in our life, we stab at it.  We make it go away a hundred different ways.  We do this and that and then someone suggests something else and we do that, too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Why do we do that?  (Or maybe we don't.  Maybe it's just me.)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Shooting a fly with a shotgun will make the fly go away, but what about the walls and furniture?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-1058651891073769298?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/1058651891073769298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=1058651891073769298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1058651891073769298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1058651891073769298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/10/pain-in-neck.html' title='pain in the neck'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-1828941194855433596</id><published>2008-10-17T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T07:30:17.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>work in progress</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I have to preface this by saying that I love my Beta Group, I love the people in it, I'm excited about where we're going as a group, and I believe we all have the intention of Life-ing together.  It's going to be a great experience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;But, group makes me anxious.  Not because I'm hosting.  That's a no-brainer.  I love having peeps in my space...but last week and this week, I've been on edge.  I'm feeling prickly and not satisfied when we finish.  I feel like I'm in the room but not in the group.  I feel like I'm not "getting it."  Last night I cried before bed.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It dawned on me when I hit the morning with a hot shower and a fresh perspective--that only a night's sleep can bring--that God wants to work on me.  And, he wants to work on me through this group.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;If all things were perfect, I would want group to be only a place of refuge and refuel.  However, that's only one slice of a large pie.  God also (or mainly?) wants group to challenge me to grow, to see things from other perspectives, to learn about him through the knowledge and experience of others.  And, frankly, to realize I'm not always as right as I think I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm excited about that.  But, I'm also sad because it IS going to be work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-1828941194855433596?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/1828941194855433596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=1828941194855433596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1828941194855433596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1828941194855433596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/10/work-in-progress.html' title='work in progress'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5747452085215372158</id><published>2008-10-15T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T16:07:23.898-07:00</updated><title type='text'>where you lead I will follow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Part of the new path for the Lewis Household is to trust where God is leading us. That means giving up. Giving up my desire to live in warmer climates, Howard's desire to live in developed countries, my desire to shop, his desire to make a certain salary, my desire to have a bigger house, his desire to...you get the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we have to completely give it up and let God tell us where to go. Without filters. Without desires. Knowing he'll take care of our needs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's scary to give up the desires, the shoulds and the gotta haves. But, then you do it, and you feel calm. Yes, calm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where God is leading us. Maybe it's just for Howard to get a new job here in the Triangle and our life goes on as before. But...maybe it's something different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be interesting to listen and learn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5747452085215372158?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5747452085215372158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5747452085215372158' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5747452085215372158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5747452085215372158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/10/where-you-lead-i-will-follow.html' title='where you lead I will follow'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4456462219283490466</id><published>2008-10-11T06:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T06:31:23.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Listening</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We do a horrible job of listening these days.  We're so busy talking and writing emails and texting.  We have so much to say and so little time to say it.  We rush in, apologize, and blurt our bit.  When we're done, we're on to the next thing.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;How many times a day do we say, "I've got to tell him..."  "I need her to know..."  "I have to write..."  It's all about ouput.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The prayer series journal at my church is causing me to think about silence.  I have talked to God all my life.  I'm very comfortable carrying on a conversation with him, or informing of something, or petitioning him in prayer, or praising him for a glorious sky.  Sometimes he answers.  Sometimes my constant chatter causes him to shout.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, I sat down and tried to listen to God.  Sounds easy.  In reality, a totally different story.  I couldn't shut up my mind.  Like the Energizer bunny it just kept going and going and going.  I found it nearly impossible to simply listen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;At first.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now I've gotten up to a whole 45 seconds.  Doesn't sound like much and you're probably laughing at me.  But, hey, that's the best I can do right now.  And, the first time I tried I think it was something like 0.45 seconds.   So, while I might not be a chatterbox of a person, my mind is a regular Chatty Cathy.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;How's yours?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4456462219283490466?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4456462219283490466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4456462219283490466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4456462219283490466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4456462219283490466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/10/listening.html' title='Listening'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6453944904834038067</id><published>2008-10-04T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T09:56:28.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>While the Cat's Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;While the Cat's been away the mice have been playing...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm learning to juggle working full time with home and family. It's a different life now. Blogging is something that will either go away or evolve for me. It won't be like it's been. It will be new and different, like my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I will attempt to condense my thoughts into snippets, turning verbose musings into concise blasts of observation. Pages will turn into not quite a page, paragraphs into sentences and words into a word. My blog will become a movie trailer, not the movie, a Reader's Digest version of what I would prefer to expose, or espouse, or put more directly, an (gasp!) abridgement. &lt;em&gt;Every writer's nightmare.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;It will work, or it will not. But it cannot continue in it's present form. I haven't posted in a month! So, if there's anyone still out there seeking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;curiously&lt;/span&gt; with me, we can do it in shorthand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-6453944904834038067?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6453944904834038067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=6453944904834038067' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6453944904834038067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6453944904834038067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/10/while-cats-away.html' title='While the Cat&apos;s Away'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-348180915202954083</id><published>2008-09-06T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T13:33:07.581-07:00</updated><title type='text'>gender and politics</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, Hillary Clinton was right.  I see it now because I've seen it from the other side.  Sarah Palin is getting it.  And, it's surreal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sexism is alive and well, and nurtured in the media.  I wouldn't have believe it.  Until I looked closely.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="  ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Would anyone ask Sen. Biden what suit he planned on wearing to the convention?  Would anyone question whether Sen. Obama could parent his young children effectively if he ran for the White House?  Would anyone ask for a DNA test from Sen. McCain to prove his biological children are his?  Would anyone question the leadership ability of a man if his children got into trouble?  Has CNN or Fox News spent any amount of time on the hair styles, foot wear and accessories of the candidates who aren't women?  Has anyone noticed the weight gains or losses of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;men&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; in the race?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 18px; "&gt;Hill-Dog and Barracuda are the most recent women politicians striving to have their ideas captured by the cameras pointing primarily to their tailored suits, latest coiffure, and trendy glasses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 18px;"&gt;That said, doesn't Palin look&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; hot&lt;/span&gt;?!  (I know, I just lost all credibility for this post.  However, you will notice my new glasses in a few weeks...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-348180915202954083?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/348180915202954083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=348180915202954083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/348180915202954083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/348180915202954083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/09/gender-and-politics.html' title='gender and politics'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5004004306872110085</id><published>2008-08-24T05:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T05:54:26.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lessons from mom</title><content type='html'>The only time I saw glee on my mother's face was in a department store, and it only happened once.  My sister and I sat witness at Bloomingdales, or Saks, or Macys, who knows, on a little fake suede couch and watched with disbelief our repressed and infinitely dissatisfied mother do a little happy dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was buying a new wardrobe to attend a class reunion.  Why she couldn't just wear any of the hundred and fifty articles of fine linens, wools and silks in her closet was beyond my limited scope of understanding.  New.  It had to be new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, sis and I sat on a fru-fru couch in a chi-chi section of some overpriced, overly self-impressed fine clothing section observing our mother's spending spree.  For some reason I can remember the cream pants and red blazer pantsuit, and if I were British, I would call the outfit "smart."  But those weren't the clothes that brought on the shuffle of delight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a little black number.  Shiny, frilly, and showing some leg, but in a maturely demure manner.  Something maybe Diane Keaton would wear to a benefit dinner.  Mom modeled for us.  Yup, that was the one.  She looked at the tag and giggled (my mom does &lt;strong&gt;not &lt;/strong&gt;giggle) and went into the Ginger Rogers routine.  Sis and I were glad to be sitting on the little poufy couch, otherwise we would've been hurtling to the floor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why was she looking at the tag?  I thought maybe the dress was on sale.  Or, maybe it was &lt;em&gt;overpriced&lt;/em&gt;.  Who knows what would send her into such an unnaturally joyful state?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out the dress was a size 4.  A size 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Size matters is the lesson I learned from my mother who sent me to Weight Watchers when I was in the sixth grade.  I have never been a size 4.  I will never be a size 4.  But, even with all my little grey cells in motion and the calm of my loving family, the Lord, and the fact I might actually and astonishly like myself, I have this nagging little voice in my head that tells me size matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, how to get rid of it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5004004306872110085?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5004004306872110085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5004004306872110085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5004004306872110085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5004004306872110085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/08/lessons-from-mom.html' title='lessons from mom'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6146704681394382374</id><published>2008-08-23T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T15:33:52.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>training by the numbers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Just got back from a week away in Charlotte.  Glad to be home.  Glad to hug my fam three.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;If I had to assign numbers to the week for the class:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;38 hotel breakfasts, 38 hotel appetizer "dinners" consumed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Approx. 140 beers and 20 glasses of wine slurped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;3 stories told that ended with the class in tears &lt;em&gt;(everyone!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;12 tanks of gas burned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;and $36.00 worth of mini-Hersheys devoured.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-6146704681394382374?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6146704681394382374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=6146704681394382374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6146704681394382374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6146704681394382374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/08/training-by-numbers.html' title='training by the numbers'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-1808346618177966929</id><published>2008-08-19T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T18:36:09.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>training</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm training with the American Red Cross in Charlotte this week.  Observations...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;People with positive attitudes can change the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A sad story can send you to your room to sob.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sitting by the pool in the sun while talking with altruistic peeps is an awesome way to spend lunch or dinner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Listening to your hubby and kids on the phone is like having the world's best chocolate poured into your ear canal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hubby is doing an awesome job at home and is handling some tough situations with fortitude and flair.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My job is not a job, it's a privilege.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Single mothers are saints.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;After pooh-poohing them during the opening ceremonies, I've become addicted to watching the Olympics.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hotel soap always smells better than mine at home.  We're talking "white ginger"--don't know, don't care, I just want to hit the tub again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I promised myself I wouldn't eat any of the mini chocolates from the dish at our table in the training room, but I think, "yeah, riiight," as I pop another Hershey's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I &lt;em&gt;did &lt;/em&gt;work out, but only because a TV is hooked up to the eliptical and I can watch Fox News, but only while I rant and sweat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Free beer is good.  Free beer that comes in pints is good.  Free beer that comes in carafes is dangerous.  Free beer that doesn't end is deadly.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The young ones head to the hot tub.  The old ones head upstairs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;(No need to guess where I am.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-1808346618177966929?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/1808346618177966929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=1808346618177966929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1808346618177966929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1808346618177966929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/08/training.html' title='training'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-989106464913519470</id><published>2008-08-10T04:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T05:07:21.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>more about shoes</title><content type='html'>Walking in another's shoes seems to be the theme of the last coupla weeks.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I thought, why don't I begin a period of time (a day, a week perhaps) where I keep that thought at the forefront of my mind and vow to live each human encounter from another's perspective?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A friend and I had talked about this.  We both had read an article about a book that teaches how to do this very thing.  A major issue for her, as she always leaps to the conclusion that someone's bad day is targeted directly at her.  To her defense, people can treat her differently, as she comes on way stronger than she realizes--which can work to her benefit, too, when she wants to be the savior or center of attention.  The coming on strong issue is parallel for me: sometimes I just don't know how powerfully I present myself in verbiage, intonation, and volume--and I also, can use it to my advantage when I want the group to go a certain way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But back to shoes: understanding that someone's bad day is not a personal attack, or that someone's lack of diplomatic skills doesn't mean they're siding with the enemy is critical to human interaction.  A squinting glare may be a sign she holds you in contempt, or a projection of that morning's fight with her spouse, or maybe she just forgot her glasses at home.  We, as humans, tend to take things, well, rather&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; personally&lt;/span&gt;.  We make all sorts of assumptions when we walk blindly into contact.  We project all kinds of past experiences, hurts and triumphs onto others.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which means we can wrongly downgrade &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;or even elevate&lt;/span&gt; someone's behavior beyond their intent.  A touch on the shoulders while staring into one's eyes and asking "how're you?" can feel more intimate than intended to a person who's needful or lacking self-esteem.  And this a major reason why people in positions of counseling, teaching or ministering to others need to be careful.  Oftentimes their subjects will be emotionally immature or broken and can mistake actions or words differently than planned.  Human interaction is delicate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until about 3 pm yesterday, I'm thinking this a good thing to do, see the world from another's perspective.  Then I'm faced with a "traffic gesture" in response to my accidentally turning up a one way street in Raleigh.  Okay, not the most shining moment of my driving career, but I managed to keep a cool head with four lanes of cars speeding toward me, and I actually calmly accelerated toward them because I knew I had to proceed another 500 feet forward to duck into a parking lot.  (God's work.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I'm conflicted with the shoes of my brother living.  The "hand movement" guy was also the guy who alerted me to the fact that I'm headed the wrong way.  I'm thinking, thanks, buddy, for flashing your lights.  You're a big help.  And, in the next instant I'm thinking, hey, I made a mistake, and I got out of it without messing anyone's day, why give &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; the "signal?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Humans are complex, and encounters with them are complex to the power of 100.  In the old days I would run away, hide and stay out of intimacy's way.  That's not a way to live for God's creatures.  We all need and crave human interaction, that's why the worst punishment is solitary confinement.  That's why churches have small groups, so no one gets lost in the congregation.  You are known, you are loved, you are safe.  It's not always easy or trial-free, but you can be authentic in your group.  You can have human interaction and regardless of what happens, you know you'll be okay.  God takes care of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which leads me back to the shoes.  And, I think this will be ongoing...       &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-989106464913519470?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/989106464913519470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=989106464913519470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/989106464913519470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/989106464913519470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/08/more-about-shoes.html' title='more about shoes'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-7295072003963083631</id><published>2008-08-06T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T17:05:39.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear and Shoes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Thoughts on fear...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Many years ago we were in Switzerland visiting the other half of the fam.  We were in a gondola with my dad's cousins and I was freaking out.  Okay, not so onlookers were concerned, but my party knew I was "not right."  The rush of relief upon stepping once again on terra firma was like stepping into the presence of God.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I have major panic-attack fear of heights.  Airplanes, cliffs, even ski lifts.  My fear does not stop me often, but sometimes it's just too overwhelming.  I've traversed the world in aircraft, swooshed the best slopes in the Rockies and Quebec, lived, worked and dined in skyscrapers, and even rode a camel down a slippery sand dune to the riverbed of the Nile.  However, I stayed in the lobby while others visited the top of the Empire State Building, canceled a plane trip to visit an old friend for a girl's weekend, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;walked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; down the edge of the Grand Canyon rather than trust a donkey's footing (hoofing?).  I make it through obstacles most of the time, but not all of the time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, we're lunching atop a Swiss alp and dad's cousins are poking fun at my fear of heights.  As expert mountain climbers who pick (quite illegally) edelweiss, my gondola reaction is inconceivable to them.  Then, the subject turns to their upcoming trip to the States.  What will they see, do, explore?  Dad recommends rafting down the Colorado River.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Nein, nein!" screams Hildegarde. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;"Whaat?" we exclaim, thinking dad's botched his Deutsch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The meaning was clear, just seems Hildegarde is deathly afraid of water.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Oh, my dad asks in perfect German, like Cat is afraid of heights?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Aha!  Beyond overcoming a language barrier, we have now navigated adeptly into the realm of walking in another's shoes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;As a new vampire for the Red Cross, I've come to realize that people actually have a problem with needles and blood.  It never enters my mind personally.  I don't even think about it.  Others are not so blase.  To them, needles or blood are HUGE issues.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;A friend emailed me and wished me congratulations on my job, but he said, "you may not have my blood." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I offered to hold his hand and everything--we at the Red Cross are full service employees.  Yet the answer was still, "nein."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I inquired as to why and he replied that he has an "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;unexplainable, undesired, uncontrolled psychological response" to needle sticks.  Whoa.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;When I put myself in his shoes, thinking what it would be like to have to hop on a chopper to give a pint of blood, the understanding literally pulsed through my veins.  Putting your fear in place of someone else's fear gives you close perspective to their pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 18px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I vow never to push anyone to give blood.  But, if you can, we need it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-7295072003963083631?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/7295072003963083631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=7295072003963083631' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7295072003963083631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7295072003963083631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/08/fear-and-shoes.html' title='Fear and Shoes'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6176673049025200415</id><published>2008-08-03T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T11:27:15.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>switching roles</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, you already know that Hubby is stay-at-home dad this summer and I'm bringin' home the bacon.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;It's been the greatest gift to our marriage and our children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;While I've spent the last 7 years at home with the kiddoes, he's been uber-business man.  Now, over temper tantrums, Kung Fu fighting, and soggy PB&amp;amp;J's, he's getting to know our kids intimately and vice versa.  Tremendous opportunity for all three.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hubby and my switching of the shoes has been eye-opening.  Our marriage was super before--best friends, partners, parents, lovers, yadda, yadda--and now it's leapt to a whole new level.  We have firsthand experience of each other's roles and a newfound respect for the challenges and benefits to each.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He now fully understands that three hours of day camp is really just one errand or a shower, and you &lt;em&gt;have to choose&lt;/em&gt;.  I know that coming home from work means coming &lt;em&gt;home&lt;/em&gt;.  I have to turn off the work switch in the driveway before walking through the door.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We are having a rare chance to live each other's lives and it's been incredibly enriching.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We've learned alot...I know why it's difficult to plan an early exit when you have reports due and your boss is asking for a concall at 4:30.  He knows why you never, ever, under penalty of death offer dessert until you've checked first to see if you have it.  I understand fully the morning longing for bed when the kids have crawled in, but my alarm has harshly told me it's time for a shower, so I must stumble sadly to the bathroom leaving behind three sleeping, warm lumps.  Hubby grasps the blissful concept of kid-free grocery shopping, and has learned that active kids need activities.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mostly, I learned too quickly to get used to a quiet car.  He's learned that maybe he can relax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We'll need to learn more.  But for now, it's fun to wear each other's shoes and see how God is molding us into better partners and parents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-6176673049025200415?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6176673049025200415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=6176673049025200415' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6176673049025200415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6176673049025200415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/08/switching-roles.html' title='switching roles'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-7720192209130701260</id><published>2008-08-01T17:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T17:18:32.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Living Less Talking</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Funny how a full time job gets in the way of my posting.  Soooo, much to report, just no time to write for the present.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;"I love you so much that you are like my star up in heaven." Daughter quote.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The little puffball named Bibble in the Barbie movie "Fairytopia" got a ball to the stomach (ooof!), and son says, "Heh, heh, that's awesome."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Swimming again with the fam after work today was divine.  Eating leftover Thai and watching Fairytopia with the kids was a riot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Life is good.  Sometimes ya gotta live it, not talk about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-7720192209130701260?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/7720192209130701260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=7720192209130701260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7720192209130701260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7720192209130701260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/08/more-living-less-talking.html' title='More Living Less Talking'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8485071230741293883</id><published>2008-07-20T04:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T04:54:44.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>grapes for sale</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I was at Food Lion yesterday, buying out the entire store.  I'm heading to Charlotte for a week of training and desired to leave my cupboards stocked.  Not that I'm so naive to think that McDonald's or Burger King won't enter the picture, it's just that I want to give Hubby options.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I had put the Southern peaches in my cart (yea!), and was turning around for the grapes when an older gentleman called out for the produce guy.  It was one of those awkward moments where I watched the man call for him and the produce dude didn't hear him, so the man called out again--truthfully not loud enough--and I was wondering, okay, should I help him?  What should I do?  A few more tries and finally Mr. Produce heard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The gentleman wanted the deal on grapes.  It was explained to him that it had been a one day sale on Wednesday.  The man apparently didn't understand.  I snuck in to grab my grapes with an "excuse me" that wasn't heard by either.  As I moved on to broccoli, their seemingly unending conversation loop continued.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;My heart was sad for the older gentleman who appeared unkempt and very needful of a sale on grapes.  I wondered about him and his situation.  Did he lose his wife?  Does he have adult children nearby?  Does anyone check in on him?  The imaginings in my head were making shopping difficult. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, I rang up God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I prayed for him and his situation.  I thanked God for my blessings and my situation.  (It was difficult not to feel really, really blessed while filling my basket full of good food for my family.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;While checking out, I glanced outside the front door.  The same gentleman stood outside with three police officers.  He was being arrested for shoplifting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, obviously I was a sobbing mess unloading groceries into my car.  And, what can I do?  If I started a crusade, joined an organization or helped an individual every time I drove around town crying, it would turn into a full time job.  God works on me, though, in those moments.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He works on me, still, regarding the gentleman who wanted a sale on grapes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8485071230741293883?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8485071230741293883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8485071230741293883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8485071230741293883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8485071230741293883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/07/grapes-for-sale.html' title='grapes for sale'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-3011784799828671658</id><published>2008-07-19T05:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T07:10:10.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>culture vs colloquy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I yearn for a heritage to celebrate.  A rich, cultural backsplash to my life.  Something permanent with ritual and tradition shared by my group of peeps. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ethnic peoples have tight communities and millennia-old traditions and celebrations to bring them together to laugh, cry and fight in grateful praise of God, family and culture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;We of Western European descent claim regions of the Americas to define our belonging, and those lines are ever more blurred today in our mobile society.  Our ethnic identity arises from a geographical point of reference: Midwest, East Coast, West Coast, Southwest...etc.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Depending upon where you grew up, you say: purse or pocketbook; couch or divan; highway 101 or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; 101; y'all, or youse guys; kitty corner or catty corner; next week or this coming week; and, knapsack or backpack.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;If you end your phrases in prepositions, like "where do you live at?" or add "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;at all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;" to the end of a query, you're from the Midwest.  They will invite you to stay longer or stay over, and you will be expected to know to decline because no one would want to be an imposition. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;If you put "the" in front of a highway number or street name--even if it makes zero sense such as "the El Camino" (which translated means "the the road")--you're from the West Coast.  Ditto if you could correctly order a skinny half caf two shot latte in a local coffeehouse &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;before&lt;/span&gt; Starbucks went national.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;If you talk faster you're from the North, and slower, from the South.  Southerners will put a lacy blanket of gentility over any disparaging remark by adding "bless her heart."  Northerners do not talk to strangers in the elevator or on a train because that's suspect behavior.  Southerners will mean it but not say it.  Northerners will kinda mean it and say it forcefully.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px; "&gt;If you're from Texas, you ask, "How are yooooou?"  And, you expect a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px; "&gt;one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px; "&gt; word reply.  If you don't own a gun they'll know you're not a native.  If you don't buy a gun soon, they'll know you "just ain't right."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;Highway, Interstate, Freeway, and Parkway can all mean the same type of road.  Soda, Coke, Pop, and Tonic can mean&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; any&lt;/span&gt; type of fizzy non-alcoholic beverage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So for many of us, our cultural identity is defined by mannerisms and lingo, not by background, religion, shared history spanning the ages, or food--unless you count the yummy regional specialities like North Carolina pulled pork, Memphis ribs, Iowa corn-fed beef tenderloin, or Texas smoked beef brisket.  (You can tell I'm a carnivore.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;We celebrate the diversity of America, especially in the summer, with Fourth of July, Memorial Day and Labor Day picnics.  We shoot off fireworks and eat potato salad.  We take vacations to Disney World and the beach.  We pass each other on I-95 or I-80.  We share a culture of sorts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px; "&gt;But it's not the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-3011784799828671658?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/3011784799828671658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=3011784799828671658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3011784799828671658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3011784799828671658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/07/culture-vs-colloquy.html' title='culture vs colloquy'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8252039744774948370</id><published>2008-07-13T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T12:00:06.932-07:00</updated><title type='text'>role reversal</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Just finished a full week of work.  I haven't had a full time job for over a decade.  It was sad and wonderful, too.  Hated being away from the kids, especially since I'd planned to spend the summer with them, but loved being back in creative business building.  Fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Hubby's doing Daddy Day Care.  A total role reversal for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Lounging at the pool with the fam on Friday, Hubby turned to me and said to me proudly, "I managed to keep them alive this week."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;"No," I responded, "they didn't kill &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I didn't want to rain on his sunny day, but parents keep their kids alive until about age 5, and from then on, parents move into self-preservation mode or face peril.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Don't believe me? Here's the evidence:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Kids will jump on you suddenly without notice and you will lose your breath, break a necessary bone, or choke on your bite.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Kids will speak loudly in your ear in the middle of the night and if you don't have a heart attack from the shock, you will most certainly fall down the stairs and break your neck while navigating Legos in the hallway shuttling them back off to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Kids will disappear suddenly in crowded, unfamiliar territory and a lifetime later (usually a few minutes) a security guard will hand them back to you, regard your shaking, snorting, mascara-running state of disrepair and offer to call your husband because "you don't look like you should drive."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Kids will interrupt you every 2.4 minutes with all sorts of emergencies (hunger, not sharing, web issues, missing toys, etc.) and due to this constant interruption your brain will become spastic and you'll be unable to think, talk or stay continent.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So, Hubby survived his first week as stay-at-home dad.  And, I'm proud of him.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Here's something hard to admit: Hubby's much better at laundry than I.  He ROCKS at laundry.  Okay, maybe not totally rocks 'cause none of its folded, but still, it's all completely cleaned.  Our house harbors not one stitch of dirty clothes (ignoring what we threw in the hamper last night).  He was still managing loads on Saturday.  While I watched.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I've had the past nearly seven years with the kids on my own, now it's his turn for a summer.  I think this will be a good thing for all of us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8252039744774948370?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8252039744774948370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8252039744774948370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8252039744774948370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8252039744774948370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/07/role-reversal.html' title='role reversal'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-7415942454988874429</id><published>2008-07-10T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T13:48:37.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>newspaper article</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;So, Wendy Lemus is the editor of the Cary News. She sat down with Howard and me a few weeks ago and we unpacked some sexual abstinence fears, myths and stories with her. She is a remarkable woman and we had an interesting time chewing over secular abstinent dating, and highlighting the past decade of Reborn Virgin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our time was compiled in a piece on the front page of the Cary News on Wednesday. In case you missed it, check it out at: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.carynews.com/front/story/9504.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;http://www.carynews.com/front/story/9504.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-7415942454988874429?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/7415942454988874429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=7415942454988874429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7415942454988874429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7415942454988874429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/07/newspaper-article.html' title='newspaper article'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-8964764280647678354</id><published>2008-07-09T17:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T13:48:58.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>email turmoil</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Having major problems with email.  If you sent me an email this week, I did not receive it.  Please resend your thoughts.  Always love hearing what people are saying about stuff.  My old email is my newest: mamacatlewis@juno.com.  Perhaps this debacle is worthy of a post somewhere down the line...we'll see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-8964764280647678354?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/8964764280647678354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=8964764280647678354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8964764280647678354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/8964764280647678354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/07/email-turmoil.html' title='email turmoil'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6475637322741800889</id><published>2008-07-07T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T16:29:40.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>perfect fit</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Praise!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I know this job is going to be the best ever because it won't feel like a job at all.  I started today as a Blood Center Coordinator with the American Red Cross in Cary.  It's a perfect fit.  Great team, excellent boss, super company and my skill sets will be fully utilized.  I'm thrilled!  I can hardly wait to sincerely dig in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Only thing is, I'm so incredibly happy that I feel weird about jumping around like an excited Chihuahua (yeah, really, I'm THAT excited) while my church is exploring "suffering" in a series.  They're having a prayer event tomorrow and have asked people to write their burdens on butcher paper taped to the walls.  We're to circle the ones over which we've prayed.  There's a lot of suffering in our church and in the world.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, I'm celebrating with glee.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Hmmm...back to the waves.  Up and down, up and down.  Such is the course of life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-6475637322741800889?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/6475637322741800889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=6475637322741800889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6475637322741800889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/6475637322741800889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/07/perfect-fit.html' title='perfect fit'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4984763104381158913</id><published>2008-07-05T05:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T06:01:47.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>nervous prayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;At lunch with James, he prayed over us and the meal I could literally feel God’s warmth encompass the table.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It’s not often that happens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Honestly, most of the time people pray, I’m nervous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I try so hard to concentrate on their words and not let my mind wander.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I’m simultaneously embarrassed and honored if they’re praying for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Gel..um&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; Group prayers make me really edgy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Who’s gonna talk?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;What are they going to say?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Will every single prayer request get mentioned, or is someone going to be left out?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Did Robin already pray for Ally?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;How long will this bit of silence last?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I’m on the edge of my seat until the final “amen,” then I can relax.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It’s over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;(Blow out big breath.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I talk to God all the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Praying I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He’s always there, and that’s a good thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I ask, wonder, yell, cry, beg, praise…the whole gamut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It’s very comfortable for me, this ongoing private conversation with God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Group prayers and someone praying for a group are uneasy positions for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Even in church, when my pastors pray, I’m holding my breath, trying to hear the words, waiting for it to end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Yeah, yeah, just get to the point, I’m thinking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Not disrespectfully, mind you, but kinda like swallowing chalky liquid medicine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Choking it down, wishing for the water that comes after.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Just get it over with, God and I can hash it out later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;And yet, when two or more are gathered in His name…shouldn’t group prayer be something I’m driven toward and not away from?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I don’t know why I have such a hard time with group prayer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Most of the time, I’m not even involved so it can't be performance anxiety.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I just have to sit there in correct posture: hands together, head bowed, eyes downcast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Pretty boring position, though, considering I’m used to addressing God while engaged in an activity: maneuvering through traffic, sorting laundry, or painting walls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;But James’ prayer was comfortable for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Just the three of us, holding a circle of hands, heads bowed, and his sure words floating across the restaurant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, God there with us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I want that to be how I feel with every prayer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I’ll be working on it…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4984763104381158913?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4984763104381158913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4984763104381158913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4984763104381158913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4984763104381158913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/07/nervous-prayer.html' title='nervous prayer'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-1714015865436548651</id><published>2008-07-04T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T12:22:47.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lunch with james</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;If you’re not doing God’s purpose for you, you’re not doing anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You can get sidetracked by even noble endeavors and never get around to God’s purpose for you, says James, waving his arms broadly, and you can see him playing basketball, even now in his button-down shirt and tie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You have to be diligent to stay on course, he says emphatically.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Hubby and I lunched at the knees of a wise man on Thursday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;James, tall, lean, and graying, leads from experience and faith.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We covered a lot of ground in two hours over fish burgers and garlic fries at Red Robin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;(May I recommend &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Tyler&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;’s Taproom by the way for the most excellent garlic fries.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We talked about God, “BC” life (life before Christ), Primerica, Reborn Virgin, basketball, family, death, happiness, and passion: a lifetime of wisdom and insight exuding as sage guidance from his lips between bites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You can’t care what others think, he explains to me, leaning in intently as I confess my fear: when I promote RV people will think I’m after the money, when the reality is that I just want to help people live better lives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;He corrects my thinking: you have to concentrate on the goal, on helping people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Others will believe what they will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You can’t control them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;However, you can control what you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;James turns to Hubby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;He addresses many concerns, but one stands out: you have to be careful to not run away from Primerica, like you did the corporate world 5 years ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;You need to run TO something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Find your passion and pursue it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So, James’ message is basically, find God’s purpose for your life, pursue your passion with due diligence, focus on the goal not the distractions (whether iniquitous, imagined, or even righteous), and you’ll fulfill God’s will. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-1714015865436548651?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/1714015865436548651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=1714015865436548651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1714015865436548651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/1714015865436548651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/07/lunch-with-james.html' title='lunch with james'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-7853172989118227224</id><published>2008-07-01T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T09:46:05.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pray</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;No questions, just pray with me, first:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Dear God, please help the doctors taking care of Nicholas determine a correct diagnosis and begin a course of treatment.  Please watch over Stacy, Robert, Mackenzie and Nicholas and keep them in your loving care.  Give Stacy strength to take care of her sick little boy, and please heal Nicholas.  Amen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Thanks for praying with me.  Nicholas is 2 years old and the sweetest little boy you've ever seen.  He has a winsome smile and "pinchable" cheeks.  He is suffering from an unknown ailment.  He is being attended by specialists from all fields of medicine at Duke, and has undergone so many tests in his young life that every time they get into the car he shakes his head in protest and says, "no doctor!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;They can't figure out what's causing his illness.  He's recently taken a turn for the worse, being nearly unable to eat or move about much.  Even the top medical professionals are stumped by his unusual symptoms: extremely low iron, off the charts high B12, achy legs, eye problems (strabismus) and surgery, lethargy, out of breath, no appetite, etc.  They've started to test for rarer diseases because they've eliminated the more known varieties.  Everyone involved is desperate for a diagnosis.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Thanks for caring about this cute little boy.  I will keep you posted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-7853172989118227224?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/7853172989118227224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=7853172989118227224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7853172989118227224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/7853172989118227224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/07/pray.html' title='pray'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4488602151269533279</id><published>2008-06-29T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T13:29:14.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>waves: highs and lows</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Last week we were at the beach, frolicking in the waves, sun and sand.  It was blissful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;This week is not blissful.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The news of the death of two children in our church community, our pastor's possible exposure to bloodborne pathogens while saving lives during a roadway accident in Haiti, our friend's son, 2, continues declining with a mysterious undiagnosed illness, closing our business, and my mother's further mental and physical downfall and being admitted into a full-care nursing home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;At the top of the world one moment, and crashing down into suffering the next.  (Fitting that the sermon series starting next week is about suffering.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Last week juxtaposed with this week reminds me of our last day at the beach.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The surf was up, dude!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  And, the surfers were out, so fun to watch.  Even my daughter, 6, caught a few on her boogie board.  While son, 5, built castles to destroy on shore, Hubby was out in the thick of it as King Triton, body surfing, boogie boarding, and definitely in his element.  We rocked and rolled in the awesome translucent azure crests.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Then princess got blasted by a big one and choked down some of the briny deep.  Screech!  The fun came to a crashing halt, and mom and child hurried to the umbrella for some dry towels and water.  As quickly as the fun had begun, it was turned off with a light switch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Life is like that, and I'm figuring out where God fits into all this.  Smiling contentedly while lounging in a chair sipping diet coke with lemon at the beach club one minute, and fighting tears and screams the next with another bout of bad news.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;And, through good times and bad, God is always there, always comforting, always holding us.  The Casting Crowns song, "Love Them Like Jesus" gives me some direction.  Here's an excerpt.  My journey continues and I will keep you posted...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;You’re holding her hand, you’re straining for words&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;You’re trying to make sense of it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;They’re desperate for hope, darkness clouding their view&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;They’re looking to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Just love them like Jesus, carry them to Him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;His yoke is easy, His burden is light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;You don’t need the answers to all of life’s questions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Just know that He loves them and stay by their side&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;Love them like Jesus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4488602151269533279?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4488602151269533279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4488602151269533279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4488602151269533279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4488602151269533279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/06/waves-highs-and-lows.html' title='waves: highs and lows'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5685246510008871538</id><published>2008-06-28T13:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T12:26:32.238-07:00</updated><title type='text'>trophies in the trash</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style=" ;font-family:verdana;font-size:18px;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're cleaning out our personal effects from the office so the new sub-leaser can move in.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;School pictures of our kids, shots of recruits on promotion days, snaps of us with various "important" people are still framed and stuffed into boxes littered with aspirin, tape, CDs, staples, tissues and batteries.  We're deciding how many of the twenty (TWENTY!?!?) three-ring binders to keep, what items to donate, and how to get the plants and the two pieces of furniture I want&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; now&lt;/span&gt; in only one trip.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm scanning the piles of the past five years of our lives and I feel like we're emptying out grandpa's house.  "I want to keep this dish, oh, these are Tim's, that belongs to Jim, sure throw that old thing away, remember when we..."  There's a bittersweet quality to leaving a business, like leaving a house where you can't take everything with you.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trophies that we once held in pride now sit in a dumpster.  Susie's sweater smells like something the cat dragged in, yet can I really throw it away?  I don't even know where she moved.  When our sub-leaser moves out, should we sell the furniture on Craig's List or eBay?  Our current supply of coffee filters will last two full years!  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Woo hoo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So much of our business is irrevocably tied to this city, these people, our friends.  We never did business with strangers, even if we didn't know you at first.  We never did anything wrong.  We did our best every day, gave 110%, remained ethical and always truthful.  We always taught, believing that the best clients were ones who could make informed decisions.  We always thought that if we did what was right and just for our clients, that it would be enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It wasn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We learned a great deal.  We made some good friends.  We better understand our strengths and weaknesses, so Hubby can head back into the corporate world with broader skills, and I can find a job doing what I love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And yet today was a necessary oddity: tossing trophies into the trash.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Okay, I kept a few good ones.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like when my grandfather died and my dad sat at the kitchen table going through his billfold.  "One man's life reduced to the contents of a wallet," dad had said and pulled out each item to examine.  That was another bittersweet moment in time, the memory of watching my father mourn his papa by caressing the pictures, driver's license, and business and member's cards, as if he could still touch his father.  Connecting to him through the things he left behind.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, today another mourning.  The life of our business reduced to the contents of a dumpster and a few precious boxes brought home.  When it's all said and done, you only have the memories.  The things wear out or break, and sometimes you just have to throw some stuff away, because do you really want your third grade spelling bee trophy sitting on the mantlepiece when you're thirty?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's time to move on.  It's time for new challenges, and more hours with the family.  It's time for us to give up the "when...then" thinking that accompanies every great adventure.  We must give up those dreams and hopes, but also I'll gladly give up those fears and rejections.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They say it's much harder on men, being laid off or closing a business.  So much of their ego is tied into work.  Please pray for Hubby as we move through these difficult weeks.  He's going to need the support.  Thanks.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please also vote for our sub-leaser, BJ Lawson: www.lawsonforcongress.com (US Congress, NC 4th District).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5685246510008871538?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5685246510008871538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5685246510008871538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5685246510008871538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5685246510008871538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/06/trophies-in-trash.html' title='trophies in the trash'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5492182483259455210</id><published>2008-06-19T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T15:38:49.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gulping Air</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Random thoughts as I gulp air between a family visit and our family vacation...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;White bathing suits look good only on elementary school girls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Transformers come in four difficulty levels, 1 is easy and 4 is hardest, and we always end up with 3's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;No matter how hard you plan something, it will turn out differently than you imagined.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Sugar, children and sitting quietly don't mix.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;My husband's margaritas will puncture a hole in your brain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;If my sister is the special edition Christmas Bob Mackie Barbie you don't take out of the box, I'm the four years old one whose hair is mussed and clothes have come on and off so often they're soft and easy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;My daughter is the snuggliest girl on the planet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;My five-year-old son acts like a frat boy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The beach is a perfect place to have a vacation.  See you all next week!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5492182483259455210?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5492182483259455210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5492182483259455210' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5492182483259455210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5492182483259455210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/06/gulping-air.html' title='Gulping Air'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-310468153778660104</id><published>2008-06-08T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T06:19:57.348-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kung Fu Panda</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Gotta love the way kids' movies are made these days.  Good stories, enough jokes to keep the parents entertained, and excellent messages.  Man, what a fun thing to do for a living, make these awesome creations.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Another life, perhaps...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It was so hot yesterday that it was hot inside with the AC on.  So, what to do?  Go to the movies.  (I brought a sweater.)  The kids have been counting down the days until June 6th, when Kung Fu Panda opened.  We caved, gratefully, for all concerned.  A sold out show, perfect seats 'cause we got there early, and a huge tub of popcorn--oh, and sweaters, too, for me and the girly-girl.  What fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Jack Black is a riot.  That guy expels funny from every pore.  I think the parents were laughing more than the kids in the theater.  And, when leaving the chill of indoors and hitting the heat of the blacktop, to hear my little kitten state emphatically the tag line and meaning of the film, well, let's just say it was a perfect moment.  I won't spoil it by talking about it here--though it IS worthy of a post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Our kids are so lucky these days to have such awesome entertainment and life lessons all rolled into a star-studded cg cartoon.  Sure beats the Smurfs.&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  Shiver. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-310468153778660104?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/310468153778660104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=310468153778660104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/310468153778660104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/310468153778660104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/06/kung-fu-panda.html' title='Kung Fu Panda'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-4621156718323425778</id><published>2008-05-28T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T08:57:52.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tipping Point</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I was at the gym today and things started to get clear about 20 minutes into my cardio.  I realized that despite the upheaval, I feel at peace right now.  It's not an easy time, but I'm very peaceful about what needs to be done, and that God and I can do it together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I was thinking back to the last time God spoke to me.  He gave me words to nudge me in a specific direction.  That moment was a tipping point in my life, and everything since has hinged on that one moment in time.  (Read Malcom Gladwell's book, "Tipping Point," for further info.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It was about 3 years ago.  I was standing at my kitchen sink washing the dirty dishes that failed to stuff into an overflowing dishwasher.  My house was  a wreck, with sticky spots and dust on every surface.  The floor was littered with little pieces of dried food threatening to impale the sole of an inattentive foot.  It was a disaster...much more than usual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I was exhausted.  Hubby had been working stiff 12-14 hour days and even Saturdays, and I was the solitary caregiver to two kids still in diapers (they were both late trainers, or maybe I was the late trainee, who knows?).  This was not a good day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So naturally, I was crying.  No, not really crying, I was sobbing.  Dramatically, I'm sure.  No one in the history of the world is as doomed as I am when feeling depressed.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Woe is ME!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  (Back of hand on forehead, of course.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I kept thinking, is this it?  Is this my life?  Dishes will pile up yet again.  Diapers will endlessly need changing.  The vacuum cleaner will continue to mock me.  I felt as if I were living the song, "Is That All There Is?" (first recorded by Peggy Lee, and later Bette Midler, Sandra Bernhardt and others).  Is that all there is to life, I asked myself?  Dishes, diapers and dirt?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Then a voice, a deep baritone, clear as a bell said, "This is not your purpose."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;And calm washed over me.  Or, maybe shock.  I knew no one else was in the house.  I knew I was quite alone with my kids.  I knew without thinking about it that it was the voice of God. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;He's spoken to me a few times, but this was the clearest and most direct.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Because He gave me those words, and saved me from wallowing in my own self pity, I have been very purposeful in my actions.  I believe, as things are unfolding in the next few years, God's purpose for my life will continue to emerge and my efforts blessed as pleases Him.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I think back often to that moment in time, a tipping point in my life and purpose, to be sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Have you had a tipping point? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-4621156718323425778?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/4621156718323425778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=4621156718323425778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4621156718323425778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/4621156718323425778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/05/tipping-point.html' title='The Tipping Point'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-3940357872740914072</id><published>2008-05-23T17:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T17:37:23.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cake Photo Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Well, I guess my dad the Schmidt-Dawg gets major kudos for not only reading my blogs, but paying attention.  He sent me a little "histoire" of the man with the cake photo.  Such a story!  Here's the Dawg's email to me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Catski, the man in the photo is your great grandpa, Lyle Finefield's papa who lived in Rochester, IA, a town of about 80 people near Tipton, IA.  He owned the local gas station (no groceries).  (Frieda and Lyle owned a groc. store in Tipton that went belly up in the Great Depression.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;One day, when I was in dental college we got a report that he had shot himself.  Immediately we went there where the family was gathered in serious mourning, devastated by the 'suicide' report for public opinion ruled their lives. But, sure enough, his shotgun had blown off the back of his skull.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;When I asked the Sheriff to reenact the scene, we went into his little gas station and laid out the gun and where his head had to be and where his brains still dripped from the wall, about a foot off the floor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I pointed out to the sheriff that the only way he could have done that was to lay on the floor, aim the gun at his head and push the trigger, a feat his arthritic arms could neither have reached nor accomplished. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;We, then, restaged the scene: It had rained that morning and swallows had congregated under the canopy, over his gas pumps. He hated swallows, so he got his gun, headed to the canopy to shoot a few swallows and, on the way, put his hand on the pop cooler to steady himself. But he slipped, fell to the floor and the shotgun went off into his head. We even found the indentation in the linoleum floor where the butt of the gun had hit which aligned perfectly with the brain drippings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The sheriff promptly issued a statement that this was not a suicide but an accident.  And the family heaved a huge collective sigh of relief for a suicide was a horrible blight on a family in those days.  It was a grisly way to achieve hero status in the family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;The picture was taken on their back porch leading to the gas station.  Notice he has a crutch under both arms and the cake is probably propped against the crutch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'courier new';"&gt;That Schmidt-Dawg has always been a bit of a CSI...and a graphic novelist. Seriously, it was kewl detective work. And, I'm glad to know more about the little old man who held that cake in the photo that made me laugh so uncontrollably.  I think that he's probably in Heaven smiling down about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-3940357872740914072?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/3940357872740914072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=3940357872740914072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3940357872740914072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/3940357872740914072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/05/cake-photo-update.html' title='Cake Photo Update'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5876454706615322992</id><published>2008-05-20T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T09:37:38.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>photo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s7mnokAMKR8/SDL4fhYBy3I/AAAAAAAAACo/PpQWal5hkKg/s1600-h/COMcake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s7mnokAMKR8/SDL4fhYBy3I/AAAAAAAAACo/PpQWal5hkKg/s320/COMcake.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202493739985128306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You decide...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5876454706615322992?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5876454706615322992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5876454706615322992' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5876454706615322992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5876454706615322992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/05/photo.html' title='photo'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_s7mnokAMKR8/SDL4fhYBy3I/AAAAAAAAACo/PpQWal5hkKg/s72-c/COMcake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-5248446544103925765</id><published>2008-05-19T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T17:16:57.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Laughter, Tears and the Crippled Old Man</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I'm going through my mother's old photographs.  And, her mother's.  And, her grandmother's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The box is filled with photos of all kinds, shapes, sizes, colors, sepia, black and white, poloroids, snapshots, and studio shots.  The faces smile back at me as I study their eyes and noses for familial similarities.  Twenty-five, fifty, a hundred years separate me from the picture takers and their subjects.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The radiant child about my son's age frolicking in the Atlantic waves is my Baby Boomer sister.  The young marrieds, fresh with promise and standing inside their corner grocery are my deceased grandparents.  My birth announcement in the paper, yellowed and torn with age.  Christmas cards from people I do not know, and photographs of people we no longer contact.  The testament to a family's history basically reduced to archeological supposition by the youngest in the family who was born long after the clans disbanded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;On a lighter note, I found one that gave me a laugh sending tears rolling down my face.  If my sister had been there, we would have been in silent hysterics for a full half-hour I guarantee it.  As it was, I had a pretty good run myself.  I found this photo of a man I do not know, older than my grandparents and on crutches.  Someone had given him a cake to hold, not just a little cake, but  a large, round two-layer frosted cake on a--get this--glass cake server, the kind with a thick pedestal.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"Here's your cake, crippled old man!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;How he kept from tipping over is beyond me.  But, maybe that was the last picture before they took him to the hospital.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Okay, maybe you had to be there with me in the moment.  I will scan the image and post it here, then you can see and judge for yourself.  It's weird, too, because there were other people around--I've seen the other photos.  So,  how did someone design that particular one?!  Give the little old man on crutches a thing half his weight to hold while he's trying in vain just to stand up?!?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;My family went insane sixty years ago and we've never since been normal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4016624245814019785-5248446544103925765?l=catlewis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/feeds/5248446544103925765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4016624245814019785&amp;postID=5248446544103925765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5248446544103925765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4016624245814019785/posts/default/5248446544103925765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://catlewis.blogspot.com/2008/05/laughter-tears-and-crippled-old-man.html' title='Laughter, Tears and the Crippled Old Man'/><author><name>cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16077564803104272462</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tuUmY6_ciM4/TwimlaCWFDI/AAAAAAAAAJg/v4G4ln38MtI/s220/DSC_0123.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4016624245814019785.post-6740872380260308909</id><published>2008-05-17T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T11:10:02.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Method to Madness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Why are some actors so horrendously messed up and some of them incredibly proficient in life?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Here's my best guess.  It's like a bell curve and we, the audience, are the majority.  At one small end are the messed up actors, and the other end are the competent and learned performers.  You have your druggies plus your people playing at very high levels and this one thing unites them: they can show us publicly what we do privately.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I didn't invent that.  Rob Reece (my method acting teacher in SF, now in Bev Hills) once said, "An actor is one willing to do in public what everyone does in private."  He probably got it from Stanislavsky.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It takes a special person to portray intimate feelings for an audience.  One exercise Rob subjected me to--and there were palm sweating, heart racing others to be sure--was to have me dialogue out of my butt.  Here I am, bent over, using my hands to move my "cheeks" and address the class.  Great.  Just what every introverted writer dreams about.  B
