To steal or not to steal that is the question.

What is stealing? Is it shoplifting. Is it cheating on your taxes? Is it taking pencils home from the office for the kids? Is it doing personal things on company time? Is it keeping something that you have found without trying to find who owns it. Not returning material to the library. Taking fruit off the trees that are not on your property? Is it switching labels on something so you pay less for it? Is it not tithing?

I suppose it depends a lot on how you want to see it. So, what's the big deal?
They have so much, they won't miss it.
Everybody does it.
Their insurance will reimburse them.
I'm just trying to feed my family.
I deserve it.
They don't deserve it.
I'll show them.
They'll never notice.
Buyer beware.
The government just wastes our money anyway.
You gotta do, what you gotta do.
It will make me "cool".

And that makes it alright. NOT!

I'm not quite sure when I finally understood it. Simple... if its not yours and you use or abuse or take it or keep it without permission - that is stealing. It's so hard to not break that one simple rule. We can change, and it is an essential to change the way we look at things. Part of the journey.

We have choices, if we choose to steal, in any of its forms, we will have to take responsibility for anything that happens as a consequence to the people/institution from whom we stole as well as bear the weight of the sin for our behavior.

Whether one believes in God or just believes what goes around comes around or just doesn't care one way or the other, there is a consequence. Sadly, we may not pay for it at the time, perhaps we first have to watch our children, who learned from us, as they reap the harsh but inevitable consequences.

If we love our children, we will do everything in our power to protect them from being hurt... so it doesn't make sense to teach them behavior which will ultimately harm them. Sadly, I've watched mothers use their children to shoplift, I can't even imagine what the future holds for most of them. Even sadder is that I will not let certain members of my own family stay in a room alone. The nails on the cross are not safe around them.

Trying to bring this around to love. If you love God, you will eventually love yourself enough to find the courage to change, and the love and the power to encourage others to change. Love really is the key.

Put Up Your Dukes

Interesting saying. I wonder if it is still a meaningful challenge. Probably cause more laughter than fear these days.

Just thinking that my hubby is a kind and compassionate man. He can be infuriating as he is extremely passive aggressive. He always has been. He mumbles to himself as he walks away, but not loud enough for the words to be distinguishable, but loud enough to have made the point. If you ask what he said..."nothing" comes back.

It makes me wonder how to describe myself these days. Anger always was an issue and is still an issue. Was the angry daughter of the angry mom, who was the angry daughter of my angry grandfather, Pedro. He was probably born into slavery at the beginning of the 20th century in the Caribbean, because my great-grandmother was supposedly a native Taino indian and guessing that his father was black. Pedro was a smart, tough, man. He worked in the sugar cane fields and ended up being a loan shark of sorts. Not sure about any of this, since my mother would not speak much about him and my aunt said he had died long before that was actually a fact (another angry woman).

Why delve into all this? To give myself an excuse, no way Jose. To give God the glory. I was born to the person He wanted me to be born to. I was not as cruel and unforgiving as my grandfather, nor was my mother. She was the non-dominant one of a set of identical twins. Beautiful face, sweet disposition, when not taken to that angry place, much nicer than her twin sister on many levels. I thank God she (of the two) was my mother.

For 55 years I had absolutely no control over the red emotion (that is how I perceive it) that would engulf me. There is a switch that is tripped when I get angry. I could almost hear the click. The adrenaline and the tears would flow... and the defenses would go up and the intelligence would seep out somewhere. There are probably good scientific explanations for all of that. Don't know. Just know that I hurt people left and right... and felt entitled.

Since I gave my life to God, accepted Jesus as the Son of God and as my Savior, I have felt bits and pieces of the anger fall away. Tiny bits and pieces. Nothing grand scale, but the change has taken place. I still get angry, would be lying if I said any differently. But that huge, all encompassing need to strike out, has gotten so small, that it is almost impossible for me to lift a hand against another human being. At least I hope and pray so. The words however, still get past my lips, more often than I want to admit to.

I thought I was beyond the anger (the big bad one that was accompanied by the desire to strike out physically), but lo and behold, I was taught differently.

I felt led to expand my service in the kingdom by going out in local missions. I spoke it, looking for direction and prayer. I immediately got slammed emotionally and spiritually. Everything and everybody started making me angry and sad. Long story short, I realized that I was being taught something. That I did not get rid of my anger, God graced me with His patience, the Holy Spirit interceded when I needed to be held back, that I was the recipient of His great mercy. Without those things, I was just that angry person all over again. I give Him the glory. He released me from this following a three week fast. I sat in church and heard, "This is not the last battle you will have... but this one is over." Oh, Thank you sweet Jesus. It was a rough tear-filled two months. I had to apologize to people and got in trouble with a pastor at church. But my joy was restored... my peace with my God was back. I could now proceed to the next step and go out into the new ministry.

When you are "in" the world, live by the standards of the world, you will not have His grace and mercy to hold back the spirit of anger. It is a painful spirit. The spirit of love and the spirit of anger do not coexist successfully. I know, I hurt the people I loved.

Fill me with your loving spirit Jesus.

Forgiveness... so elusive

My husband and I had a history from when we were younger. Almost 20 years later, when we were contemplating getting married, I worried that the past would be an obstacle when we got into disagreements. Could we could be happy enough to overcome the past? He told me that if we wanted to make it work we would have to forget the past and never bring it up. Well, in all fairness, 25 years later I have to say it worked. I guess that is kind of the same thing as forgiveness.

We are taught that when we confess our sins and are repentant, we are forgiven, and those sins are cast into the sea of forgetfulness. Thank you, Jesus. We are to forgive those who trespass against us. That means throwing those trespasses into the Sea of Forgetfulness. That's the hard part. I don't forget offense very easily.

I've gotten better at the "saying" I forgive. Yes, yes, yes. I can say it, but I just don't feel it sometimes. That person who hurt my chances at getting a better increase in salary... mmmm, OK, I forgive you, but I'm not forgetting what you did, five years later. That person who told my director that I was annoyed with him... no such thing, a total misunderstanding. OK, I forgive you. But I have arguments in my head with them. Guess I haven't forgotten it. Where did they say the Sea of Forgetfulness is located?

What I have discerned is that to forgive someone has nothing to do with them. It is an act of obedience. It has to do with being Christ-like. It is about a commitment we make to look at things differently. Saying I forgive is the beginning of that commitment. It does not mean that the person is released of their responsibility or the resulting consequences that befall them. It means that you are on the road to spiritual healing.

So, I will continue to speak "I forgive" and stop myself when thinking about the person and their offense, and give it to God, who is faithful in His healing. Full circle, He forgives me for being weak in the forgiveness of others. I learn to forgive others, so I may be forgiven.

Its all about the love.

Why do I sing His praises?

Not because I have a wonderful voice, absolutely nothing outstanding about it. God gave me a nice little voice, some think it is nice, others are not impressed at all. So be it. And so not the point.

I'd been in my church going on a year. It was my first home church since I was a child. The church He led me to after I was saved. I sat there in the back row after service and watched as everyone left. No one said, "OK, bye have a good week, see you next week." Everyone else seemed to be in fellowship, except me. I did not feel I was a part of the church after so many months of faithful attendance and considerable growth. It made me so sad that I sat there and cried. I finally cried out to God, asking Him that if it was my fault, to change that in me. Went home and stopped going to church for a few weeks. I couldn't stay away, I had to go back.

We had a wonderful choir. There was one lady I always looked at because I could always see when she entered the presence of God. There was a male lead singer who cried unashamedly many Sundays. I watched and I wondered and I learned. I learned to raise my hands in the air while praising. I learned the words to a number of songs, but mostly just read the words off of the screen.

About two weeks after I went back to church, someone sat in my seat that morning. I always sat in the very back row, so most people could not see me. So, I went up closer to the front and sat next to an usher, Doug. That Sunday, every song that they sang, I knew by heart, so I sang and worshiped unrestrained. I had a wonderful time of praise. At the end of the service Doug asked why I didn't join the choir. Caught me off guard. I mumbled something about I didn't have time because I worked so many hours and my voice wasn't that good anyway. He gently told me that my voice was pretty but that I had a gift for worship, and that is what was important.

Within two weeks I was in the choir, all nervous and uncertain about my abilities. Its been eight beautiful years since that moment. God answered my cry out. I instantly had 20 or more people saying... Ok, bye. I will see you Sunday.

I thank Him for granting me the privilege of praising Him with the choir. He is faithful, He is listening for us to cry out, and He answers prayer. He is Good. This is love.

Jesus, I love you

I was driving somewhere, don't remember where, but I remember exactly where I was. It was several years ago... maybe fifteen years. I was not yet aware of my part in His plan. Still totally in and of the world, feeding the fleshly desires. That includes the music I loved to listen to. R&R, R&B, a bit of country, some mildly hard rock, a teeny tiny bit of mild Rap, some Jazz. Pretty typical. Nothing truly offensive... not crazy about lyrics that talked violence, dirty language, death, nasty sex. I listened to nothing that said anything about faith, agape love, Jesus or God. You know.

I was stopped at a red light, scanning the car radio for something to listen to. I guess I didn't like what the station was playing and came to a Christian radio station. I do not know why, but I stayed there long enough to hear the female radio personality say "Everybody, I want you to say I love you to Jesus". And sitting in my car, all by myself, I said it... out loud. "Jesus, I love you." Little did I know that I was being led to that station, at that precise moment, because I was being taken on a new journey. I knew nothing of obedience. Yes, I knew who Jesus was, and yes, I had a certain reverence for Him. But I was just starting to love Him, and did not know it.

From that day on, I listened to Christian stations when I was in my car. Soon after that, I was trying to get Christian music in my office, but the reception was very poor and I only heard a little bit there. My taste in music was changed from one day to the next. I never understood it, but that is the way it happened. I remember the first Christian song I learned at my desk was The Creation Song by Fernando Ortega.

God works in mysterious ways. Why He would even take the time to do this in my life, confounds me, humbles me. The Holy Spirit gave me obedience when I did not know what that was and would not have done it on my own. I give Him the glory.

Jesus, I love you.

Blogging - A great way to relax

I decided that I need a place to say things that just don't sit well with most of the people I know. For one reason or another, I am just a bit to the right or left of most people who surround me. We are all individuals, not carbon copies, but we absorb some things from others. Just deciding what I need from whom is overwhelming. And being myself is just as overwhelming since I am changing so much.

I am on a journey to find, feed, and strengthen my spiritual man. I am learning to be a more Christ-like person. I am deciding what things have made me unhappy, and which things have made me joyful and trying to adjust the balance towards being joyful. This journey has lost me many a friend and has brought a whole new host of friends. It is scary, rewarding, sad, joyful, easy, hard, and almost impossible to explain without sounding off-balanced.

I am going to bounce my thoughts, questions, and occurrences - good, bad, ugly or whatever they turn out to be and hopefully come back to the words - Love is the key.