You're Proud Of What, Exactly?

I think that I must be the only person in the world who either does or does not understand the correct definition of the word 'pride'. I mean, either I'm wrong, or the rest of the world is.

In the Bible we find that it is sinful to be 'puffed up with pride', and that 'pride goes before a great fall'. (I'm not the hand-holding type - if you want to know where those scriptures are, you can look them up yourself.)

In my opinion, pride is an emotion, a state of mind, like anger. If I feel angry, and have just cause to feel so, I don't see how experiencing that emotion can be sinful. If I let that emotion rule me, my actions will be sinful. But to feel anger is not sinful.

To feel proud, if you have just cause to feel so, is not sinful. But it seems to me that most people's sense of pride is, at best, misdirected, and at worst, wholly unwarranted.

I've heard many say they are 'proud to be an American'. Really? Unless you fought to get here, learned English as a second language, and put forth real effort to become an American, or served this country willingly to help preserve the ideals upon which it was supposedly founded, I just don't see how you can be 'proud' of the accident of your birth on American soil. You might just as well have been born in France or Poland, in which case you would now be prattling about being 'proud to be a Frenchman' or 'proud to be a Pole'.

How about 'proud of my ________ heritage' (insert applicable ethnic group name)? Oh yeah? I don't care what your ethnic background is, I promise you that at some point in human history, your forefathers have been guilty of crimes against humanity. Do you know your own history? Have you studied it? If there is much in the history of a people that inspires pride, there is much more that ought to likewise inspire shame.

I would like to say 'I am proud of my children', but to me that statement would indicate that I feel personally and wholly responsible for the people that they have become. I do not. I certainly played a role in shaping their lives, but by no means was I the only, or even the strongest, influence. They are not perfect. Some of their flaws resemble my own, and some are theirs alone. I see a bit of myself here and there, and sometimes it makes me smile, and sometimes cry. So what I really mean is not 'I am proud', but instead 'I am amazed and thankful for the people they have become, I have witnessed their struggles, celebrated their triumphs, mourned their failures, tried to give comfort and guidance where I could, and today I admire and respect who they are'.

To stand and fight to uphold a truth you believe in, of that you can be proud. To do the right thing, especially when it is the hard thing, of that you can be proud. To put aside your own comfort and wellbeing to minister to the unloved and unlovely, of that you can be proud. Only let your pride be a momentary indulgence. Do not indulge in the sort of pride that leads to boasting....that is where sin comes in. If you are carried away with boasting, you are distracted from doing, to the point where your pride becomes unjustified. Do not rest on your laurels. My mother used to say 'yesterday's scores do not win today's ballgames'.

Sail On, My Friend

A ship is a vessel. If it is strong and seaworthy, it will carry much, and far.
A friendship is aptly named.

Ours has been tried and tested. Ours has proven strong and seaworthy. Ours has carried much, and far.

Joy, hope, trust, delight, wonder, anxiety, fear, worry, pain, anger - all have been its cargo. Miles and years has it sailed through.

And it sails on, no part of it worn or broken, every test of its endurance serving only to make it stronger, to increase its capacity.

We have been anchored here for a time. Now we set sail again. Where you go, I go with you in spirit.

And if I cry a little (or a lot) at your departure, know that they are tears of shared joy and excitement at the prospect of your adventure.

I love you.

The Beast

(Author's note: Today is my birthday - nevermind which one - and to mark the occassion I would like to share with you a poem I wrote when I was in my early twenties. I do not claim to be a poet, I just feel this piece is worthy to share. I hope you agree.)


Faster now, the Beast approaches,
never ceasing, never changing.
Dark, the shadow that encroaches,
ever larger, wider ranging.
I dare not turn to see the danger,
lest my foot slip, and I stumble.
My heart's eye can see the stranger,
I can hear it growl and grumble.
"Let me be!" I call behind me,
begging, pleading for reprieve.
Howling answers to remind me
that no pardon I'll receive.
Closer now, and I can feel it
breathing, hot upon my nape.
Reaching for my life, to steal it,
while I vainly seek escape.
"Speak my name" the Beast is urging
in that dark and dreadful voice.
I can feel it's anger surging,
yet I contemplate the choice.
Part of me would stop, submitting,
to have peace at last, and rest.
Even reaching out, permitting
it to pull me to it's breast.
What consequence I might endure
on giving up this manic race,
I can't be altogether sure,
except I stop the frightful chase.
I will stop, I am decided.
I am through, the Beast has won,
though the fear that has resided
in me cries to carry on.
Stopping, turning, fear receding
as it reaches to receive me.
Now the 'Beast' more gently pleading,
seems to offer to relieve me.
"Speak my name" it whispers over,
looking softly down at me.
And I say it, like a lover -
"Responsibility".

um, excuse me, is anyone listening?

I don't really 'surf' the web (do they still call it that?). What I do would be more akin to paddling around in the shallows. I may wade in a little deeper from time to time, but I usually end up running headlong into some hideous web-monster that leaves me wishing I had stayed ashore, blissfully ignorant of what's out there.

According to internetworldstats.com, 28.7% of the world's population currently has web access. That's almost two billion people who are or could be online at any given time. Understand that this is an information portal, folks. A means of instant communication. With nearly two billion minds able to receive and disseminate information instantaneously, how is it that I keep getting bombarded with crap? Oh, and thanks to the magic that is spam, I don't even have to go looking to find the crap, it finds me!

Imagine having to reproduce, on paper, all the so-called 'information' being dispensed on the internet. Or, worse yet, imagine having all that digital 'noise' vocalized! Have you ever tried to concentrate in a classroom where everyone else was talking? And based on the abundance of poor grammar and misinformation, it seems that everyone is talking, all at once, so nobody's listening.

I know that there is a wealth of good, useful information to be had out there, and I will now and then find some of it. I just think I'd be much more inclined to dive a little deeper in search of the treasure, if I occassionally found something noteworthy near the shore.

What Does Justice Look Like?

When a man believes he has been wronged, or has been accused of wrongdoing, often he will claim to seek justice. What he is actually seeking is either vengeance or mercy. I have seen and can usually recognize acts of vengeance and mercy. I believe that both have their place and purpose. I'm not at all sure that I've ever seen anything that could rightly be called justice.

If a man is robbed, and the thief is caught and imprisoned, has the victim received justice? Is he restored? Perhaps, if he was robbed of items that may be recovered, they may be returned to him, but he will surely have to invest his time and effort, for which there will be no recompense. What if he is robbed of money that can't be recovered, or what if he is beaten in the course of the robbery? And what of the thief? Will he be rehabilitated? Will the nature and duration of his punishment be commensurate with the crime he committed?

This is one small example of how we miss the mark when aiming for justice. Somehow, what we end up with is vengeance, mercy, or something much, much worse - further injustice.


For anyone who thinks 'it happened 30 years ago, there's no point in sending that old man to prison', consider this; what do you suppose that 'old man' has been doing for the last 30 years?

I've seen all kinds of articles lately about how the catholic church is revamping their policies with regard to how they deal with cases involving priests who abuse children. I don't understand how this is even a matter that has to be discussed, or why they think they have to have a 'policy'.

How is it that men guilty of such atrocities are still protected by one of the most powerful organizations in the world? Parents, where is your outrage? How can you hear of these cases day after day and not think 'what if that were my child?'

If we stand collectively by as these children are robbed of their innocence and their ability to trust, we are all guilty of fostering a society of depravity. Our children's future is shaped by what we do, and fail to do, today.

I, for one, feel some good old-fashioned vengeance is in order. If you insist on tempering it with a little mercy, very well. Don't kill the perpetrators. Just castrate them, lock them away for life and give them work to do to earn their keep. Preferably very, very hard, dirty, unpleasant work. It's not justice, but it's as close as we've got.

The Economy (Fear) Business Is Booming!

News Flash! The US economy is in the toilet! If you don't believe me, just ask the mainstream media. They'll be more than happy to tell you.....repeatedly.....and give you numerous examples of just how terrible it is and how afraid you should be.

Well, here's a little idea I came up with to help calm those media induced fears: STOP LISTENING TO THE MEDIA! Phew! I, for one, feel better already! Now, if you'll allow me, I'd like to tell you a little about my life and experiences, and also some additional helpful hints, just in case you have trouble (and you will) avoiding that mean ol' media monster.

In 1987, I was a divorced high-school dropout with a two-year-old and an infant. I worked in a factory for minimum wage ($3.35 an hour). I was fortunate enough to have my mother living with me to care for the children while I worked, but she had no income. In 1989, I graduated from a two-year college and got an entry-level job at an insurance company making less than $10,000.00 a year. I never saved a dime, but my family was provided for and I was never on welfare. Over the years, my income level increased, but while I was raising my children I never made more than $20,000.00 a year.

Helpful Hint #1 – If you were making more than $40,000.00 a year when the economy tanked, and you “lost everything”, you're probably an idiot. Please don't let society dictate to you what the necessities of life are. Paying cash, saving for major purchases, and avoiding unnecessary debt were smart choices before credit cards were invented, and they're still smart choices.

I recently met a woman who didn't have a job. I know, I know, there are millions who don't have jobs. What surprised me about this particular woman, though, is that I told her of a place where I knew she could get a job, and she told me in no uncertain terms that that type of work was beneath her skill level! I was literally shocked speechless. I've had all kinds of jobs in my working life, from cleaning woman to secretary to short-order cook and back to secretary, and never once have I found a job that was 'beneath my skill level'.

Helpful Hint #2 – Whoever it was that told you you were 'above' doing certain kinds of work to get your living was a big fat liar. If you depended on your job to meet your responsibilities and support your lifestyle, and that job no longer exists, you must necessarily reexamine your lifestyle and find a source of income. Still find the idea of a menial job distasteful? Perhaps standing in line at the food bank is more to your liking? If you're the entrepreneurial type, maybe you could start a business with a few of the other fifteen million who are currently out of work.

The labels 'poor' and 'rich' have been around for a long time. 'Middle-class', not quite as long. To the best of my understanding, the only purpose these labels serve is to allow the rich to distinguish themselves from the rest of us. Sadly, material wealth seems to command respect in certain circles, regardless of how it was acquired. From time to time, the definitions of the labels change, but the changes are slow and subtle. Most of us would agree that the basic definition of 'rich' is having more than enough in the way of material possessions, and that 'poor' means not having enough. So are we to infer that 'middle-class' means having just exactly enough? And who gets to decide what 'enough' is?

Helpful Hint #3 - Seeing as how the economy gods have apparently decided to hit the socio-economic reset button, I think now would be the perfect time for all of us to stop looking at our labels and decide as individuals what we need, what we want, and what we're willing to do to achieve those things.