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Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts

Thursday, December 20, 2012

GBE2 Meets Theme Thursday: Writing About Faith on a Humor Blog

With tragedy surrounding us this past week, two of my blogging groups have asked us to post about faith or to just follow our hearts in blogging. This is tough because my writing lends itself to humor.

Faith means complete trust or confidence in something. I have faith in a lot of things. I know that when visiting the dog park, my furry friends will jump into the muddy lake and come out disgustingly dirty. I will get a nose bleed from my left nostril at least once a week in the winter time, and even got one this morning; however, the doc has faith that it's just dryness. When dining at a nice restaurant, the salad dressing will drip on my blouse. Most importantly, faith means that one day I will be a thin, even though I will faithfully put on a pound or two this month. I've given my kids specific instructions. If I'm ever on life support, they have promised not to pull the plug until I'm a size six. I have faith that they'll follow my wishes.
Bear's Arm

I know. I know. That's not the kind of faith Mrsupole or Beth were referring to. You both wanted an in depth––spill my guts kind of post about the horrible tragedy in Connecticut. The problem is, when faced with such an unspeakable tragedy, I cannot speak. What does one say about innocent children being slaughtered by a crazy twenty-year-old? 

Should I get political about the issues of gun control and how we should ban assault weapons? I agree. There's no reason anyone needs a gun that shoots rapid fire without the need to reload. Our founding fathers could not have imagined this type of weapon when writing the second amendment, giving folks the right to bear arms. People also discuss getting more help for the mentally ill. Once again, I agree and will further add that we should tax the one percent to pay for it.

I also agree that no child should be fearful of going to school. This tough situation needs answers, and perhaps my group leaders would be satisfied to read my post about how I shed tears when I read the grandfatherly neighbor's account of the tragedy; but personally, I'd rather deal with having faith that when getting dressed tomorrow, I will find a pair of socks that doesn't have a hole in them. That is less painful.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

#GBE2: Pet Peeves

When it comes to "Pet Peeves," there are two types: a few that matter and most that don't. Which reminds me of a speaker at a gifted teachers' conference years ago. She spoke about little quirks present in our smart students, how we probably share these, and finally it's not an accident that we ended up teaching these perfectionist kids.

If you want to drive a gifted kid nuts, it's easy. All you have to do is hang one poster at an angle instead of straight. You do this, and I guarantee most intellectually gifted kids will be focused on that crooked poster because this is THEIR pet peeve. Of course, I could never perform this monstrous task because it would drive me mad too.

Although my house is far from spotless–perfectionism gone too far–when folding towels or bedsheets, those corners better match up. Peanut butter must spread across every square inch of bread, and toilet paper drops from the top. Annoyance at seeing a sloppy job is a silly pet peeve of mine. Furthermore, I can't stand to have the light switches positioned the wrong way. After all, up is for "on" and down is for "off." I will tread across a dark room at the risk of breaking bones rather than flip the switch in the wrong direction. As you read this, half of you are thinking, she's nuts, while the other half is nodding in agreement. Either way, my gifted class is just like me, so maybe there's something to this?

And here's another one... see pants drop.

I also have multiple pet peeves when it comes to drivers, but I've already written about this:  Idiot Drivers

Now on to a pet peeve that matters a little more.


I know many feel like they are doing G-d's work or saving my soul when they try to push me to believe what they believe, but I find it nauseating. I don't tell you who or what you should worship, so how dare you try to push your beliefs on me! Missionaries who venture into some Arab countries have found themselves in fear for their lives. While I don't condone putting missionaries to death, I certainly understand the anger. People who have been practicing their beliefs their entire lives don't appreciate some no nothing telling them they are wrong. Just like you value your religion, I value mine and others value theirs. I don't tell you that your life learnings are incorrect nor do I tell you you're going to H*ll if you don't believe what I believe. So, this is my true pet peeve... leave me alone.

At the same time, I can appreciate those missionaries who have made a difference in the lives of starving people in third world countries. It's all a matter of who they approach and how. Along this line, I have friends who have told me that they pray for me. While I appreciate their concerns and know they do it out of love, if they are praying for me to change my religion, they're wasting their time. I love my faith.

My intelligent and learned brother has seen the end of missionaries trying to convert him. The last poor guy to walk across his threshold found his beliefs thrown back at him in such a way that he had no choice: he could admit that what he preached was messed up or give away his pants. The missionary left in his underwear.☺