Think About It

I lost my Mom a couple of years ago to cancer, but that doesn’t mean that she isn’t still with me.   In fact, much of who I have become came from the influence she had on me.   Even though she is no longer living, I still carry some of the lessons she taught me, such as: 1.   I have value as a person .    I never had to wonder if someone loved me – I knew my Mom did. Interestingly, she didn’t love me because I was a High School baseball player or a college graduate or a preacher – she loved me for me.   It wasn’t what I did that made her proud of me, she was proud of me because of who I was.   As I look around and see how many people struggle with wondering if people respect them I am thankful that this was one less thing I had to worry about.   Mom believed I was someone and let everyone know it.   2.   I have a responsibility as a person .   The same mother who provided me with a positive self-esteem also worked to keep me le...

           The other day I was scrolling through my social media account and found myself getting stressed.   I would come across a comment made by one person, then move on to something else added by another respondent and, before long I started to feel the frustration (manifesting itself in the tightening of my neck muscles).   It was at that point that I had a realization – it wasn’t “them” that was making me upset, it was “me” that was getting me riled up.   I found that I was having a negative emotional reaction to something they were saying about their feelings on their Facebook account.   It dawned on me – why should I be upset – they didn’t ask for my opinion about what they were saying and they weren’t arguing with me about something I was saying, so what it is the big deal?   If they want to express their opinion, more power to them.   I don’t have to agree with them and, frankly, I don’t even have to read them. ...

The older I get the less I remember about my childhood.   I guess a better way to put that might be the older I get the less I accurately remember about my childhood.   As I navigate through middle age I look back fondly on when and where I grew up.   I hope that some of it is true, but I fear that much of it is nostalgia.   One of the things that I do recall about my childhood is that we ended each day with a bedtime prayer.   I don’t recall any ritual childhood prayers that began with “Now I lay me down to sleep ...”, but I do remember that it was important to say our bedtime prayers.   I don’t really ever recall being too afraid of the dark or worrying that there were monsters in the closet, but I do know that learning to say a prayer at bedtime was a fitting way to end the day.   Whether it was led by my parents, offered by one of my siblings or just me speaking to God in the quietness of the darkness, prayer was common. I am not sure what promp...

I really enjoy many of the modern conveniences of today’s world – including the availability of information.   Earlier in my life, if I wanted to do some type of investigation it involved buying (and reading) a reference book or going to some type of library to research the information.   Today, with a few clicks on a keyboard a wealth of information is at our fingertips.   While this has its benefits, it also has its drawbacks.   Because there is so much information is out there it is easy to find the “type” of information that suits our needs, then all we have to do is forward what we find (often just copying and pasting someone else’s work).   We don’t have to “think”, all it takes is repeating another person’s thoughts.   While this can lead to plagiarism, I am also worried that it is having an impact on truth.   We don’t have to research, process, evaluate and reiterate things in our own words ... all we have to do is highlight, Ctrl+C, paste an...

           Unless you listen to Bluegrass music, you probably haven’t heard it, but the other day I came across one of the best song titles ever – A Hard Life Makes A Good Song .   The song is okay, but the name is great.   Growing up listing to County and Bluegrass music I can appreciate the spirit of the title – the worse the story, the better the song.   Most of the classic songs were based upon the fact that somebody somewhere did something wrong!   In a lot of cases, the sadder the tale, the higher the song rose on the charts.           While a hard life might make a good song, it still makes a hard life.   I don’t know about you, but the easier I can make it on myself the better off I am.   I may like listening to songs recounting tales of woe – but honestly, I enjoy times when things are good and life is easy (or at least easier).    How do we make for an easier li...

A few months ago I bought a Fitbit.   I had begun working out regularly and was interested in how my workouts and lifestyle was influencing my health.   Over the next several weeks I was fascinated by what the device could track and how I could use the features to monitor or adjust my daily activities.   Well, about a month ago I stopped paying much attention to my Fitbit – using it, primarily, as a glorified watch.   I rarely check my exercise status and pay very little attention to the applications that I once found fascinating.   Why the change?   I stopped working out.   About a month ago I allowed “life” get in the way of my physical fitness, so not only did I find the health and wellness tracker useless, it also became a guilt-ridden reminder of what I wasn’t doing! When   was the last time we spent quality time with our Bibles?   It doesn’t matter if we have the old-school paper books or a spiffy app on our device; how much time do ...

I have a fish tank that allows my three Bettas (Larry, Darrell and Darrell) to live in the same structure, but remain hidden from each other – well sort of.   When I go to feed the fish, I believe that one of the Darrell’s can sort of see that the other Darrell is getting fed and he will linger over on that side of the tank even after I put his food in his tank.   I have to tap on the side of the tank where his food is floating to help him refocus and eat.   I get the impression that he is so interested in what is going on in the other Darrell’s tank that he can’t enjoy his own food. I have been told that the brain of a fish is pretty small – which explains their inability to process “blessings”, but are we guilty of the same malady as Darrell?   Are we so worried (or consumed) by what happens to the people around us that we fail to realize what is going on with us?   Are we envious of the blessings that others are receiving and end up missing out on what we ...