Soul School – Lesson 36: AUTOMATICALLY Ascribing Malice

WELCOME TO SOUL SCHOOL

(Released every Wednesday!)

Today is a quick lesson about a knee-jerk reaction nearly all of us have and what is REALLY going on.

I’d love to hear what you think!
Reach out and let me know!!


Listen again on Friday to hear mathematics teacher, author, TEDx speaker, and my fascinating friend from London, Kester Brewin.


(If you like this short episode, check out the other related ones I listed below.)

• Hanlon’s razor (description link)


THANKS FOR LISTENING!

If you enjoyed that episode, you’ll like these ones too.


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on Waiting…

This Sunday marks the start of the season of Advent 2015.

The predominant theme of Advent is WAITING in expectation.
It’s a timeless theme.

stranded-new-york-workers-wait-patiently-in-a-long-line-to-use-a-phone-booth-to-call-home
(Before mobile phones, if a bus broke down you had to find a pay phone and wait your turn to call for rescue. These folks don’t seem too upset by it.)

 

Waiting makes up a big portion of our lives, doesn’t it?

Whether it’s waiting in line or in traffic or waiting for an occasion or certain situation–we do a lot of waiting.

For me, a focus on waiting pulls me out of the present moment to a moment that exists in theory. It involves hope or anxiety. Or both.

The prisoners I minister to have a life centered on waiting for their freedom. They routinely tell me that keeping busy is the best way to conquer the burden and stress of waiting.

 

But a closer interaction with the experience of waiting can unearth and reveal deeper spiritual longings that can both call us into a richer walk of faith and engender the growth needed to more fully surrender to God.

 

If we just stay busy we can miss the gifts that come only through waiting.

Because waiting is such a huge part of the human experience, it’s no wonder that Christianity has long interacted with this theme as a entry point into bigger spiritual conversations and concepts. It is through this struggle we gain growth and maturity in our walk of faith.

Patience is rarely, if ever, attained by any other means than practice.

Waiting is that practice.

Waiting on the Lord is a vibrant theme in Scriptures too, right?

Most of the stories in the Bible include the aspect of waiting. Abraham and Sarah (and many others) wait for offspring, David waits on the Lord for deliverance, the prophets wait for God’s promises to be fulfilled, Paul and the other apostles do a lot of waiting in prison, and in the season of Advent we acutely encounter Mary’s waiting for the Savior, Jesus. She is the vehicle God has chosen to birth the Prince of Peace. It’s a nine month process–on the heels of thousands of years of waiting for the Messiah.

This delivery involves a lot of anticipation and waiting.

And so too does most anything else of worth. These many stories echo our own pain and struggle.

I appreciate Mary’s expression of gratitude during her wait (a.k.a. The Magnificat-see the video below to hear “Mary’s Song” sung my John Michael Talbot). We can use her example to help us along.

Gratitude produces joy that makes waiting easier.

Waiting aptly exposes our traits of impatience, also. It works to refine us.

Henri Nouwen once wrote, “Impatient people are always expecting the real thing to happen somewhere else and therefore want to go elsewhere. ”

Rev Adele Ahlberg Calhoun recently wrote,

Waiting is how God gets at the idols of our heart. Waiting addresses the things we think we need besides God to be content: money, comfort, expedience, success or control.

TODAY’S NUGGET:

It’s a powerful lesson we find in Advent. Meditate on the longings of your heart and cultivate the seeds of advent there. Expectantly wait for God to fulfill his promises with a heart of trust and gratitude.

13 Inappropriate Things to Say to the People in Your Life (humor post)

You might think you’re funny, but here are a few tips on what not to say in jest.66

1. To the mail carrier: “Have you had a rabies shot recently? I can’t find my dog.”

2. To the traffic cop: “Gosh, you’re not drunk again, are you?”

3. To the mechanic: “That blue wire there is either the detonator for a car bomb, or part of my son’s science project. The worst part? An employee just walked off the job all disgruntled and my son is making some sort of dirty bomb for a science project.”

4. To the ice cream truck man: “Be careful little hands what you do!”

5. To the neighbor: “I probably should have said this earlier but I saw a family of rats burrowing under your house last week. No worries! Our python loves rats and got into your house with no problem.”

6. To your spouse: “I changed my status to “single” on Facebook two weeks ago, that’s why I was gone this weekend. I thought you were cool with it.”

7. To the Jehovah’s Witness: “I don’t want to talk with you unless can sit down together, in my tub, of course. You like lavender-scented bubble bath?”

8. To the Little League Coach: “I have a concealed weapons permit. You just never know when someone’s gonna bench your kid.”

9. To your tax preparer: “I did all my bookkeeping on post it notes. There’s like ream here, you don’t mind right?”

10. To the barista, “All I have is pennies.”

11. To the library: “Here’s my book. Yes, it’s damp…You’re going to think this is hilarious!”

12. To the garbage man: “What’s worse than your little guys having the runs and super cheap trash bags? Yeah, I don’t know either. I hope you have a light touch.”

13.To your pastor: “I was in your office last month when you were on vacation. I installed “Covenant Eyes” …so, we know all the naughty sites you’ve been visiting.”

 

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Read “PART II: 13 inappropriate things to say to your family members”…don’t miss the next one, sign up for new content in the sidebar.

SHOCK & BAWL: A Tale of Jeep Rage

Boston I-93 Tunnel

Creative Commons License Rene Schwietzke via Compfight

Somedays you need to read uplifting or humorous posts to soothe yourself. I GET THAT. Friday seems two weeks away. You and I both know that sometimes we must find a way to laugh so we don’t freak out on someone, or weep uncontrollably into our Dunkin’ Donuts napkin.

This is probably not going to do that for you. But, you can read it, and shoot up a quick prayer thanking God that you aren’t my spouse. So, that’s a pick-me-up. You’re welcome.

True Story:

Once I made a horrible driving error. I’m pretty sure it was the one and only time, but I completely cut someone off on the Interstate.

So, I swing into the passing lane and make a guy in a jeep brake and swerve. Panicked, and intolerably stupid, I flee the scene…by intricately weaving through traffic, no less. Maybe if I’m out of sight I can be out of mind too, I think. No, it’s actually more of a pure flight-or-fight response. I was about 7 year old at the time, and my frontal lobe was under-developed. 

Indeed, it’s all a crescendoing avalanche of foolishness. Incited, second motorist blows his horn and starts to tail me in a move of solidarity against vehicular injustice. Things are getting totally nuts. No doubt he’s readying a tall finger for my witness. My NASCAR lane changing moves soon best him, or maybe he realizes a highway fatality is too high a price just to send a hackneyed message.

As I flee I see the victim in my mirror. He’s frothing and out of his mind with rage. He’s waving limbs around in wild fury, gassing it. He’s in hot pursuit. It’s a Jeep thing, maybe.

Now, I’m terrified. I taste the bile in my mouth.

My heart pounding, I realize this all could end very poorly. And soon.

That blaze of glory stuff is an awesome idea until you start thinking about the minutia of funeral arrangements, or wreckage in general. Yes. The poor man swerved to avoid a smash style killing of both of us. It could have been a horrid pileup too. We truly had eluded death by narrow margins. 14 guardian angels later file grievances. 3 others walk off the job immediately in complete frustration.

Jeep guy was quite good at swerving, actually, and keeps up the swerving through interstate congestion to reach me. Maybe for seconds. Maybe for kilometers. Things are getting weird. A few truckers start honking, to support me, I assume. (They probably notice my professional driving acumen. What 7 year old can draft and weave with such precision? I’m a prodigy. Surely they recognize that. It’s a rush to have their approval. They’re pros after all and they know motoring prowess when they see it.)

At this point I realize Mr Jeep guy is going to try to pull some kind of payback stunt. He’s all in.

Battle of the Stupid Driving Stunts is the theme of the afternoon, but who can blame him? At this point, he’s jacked up pretty good. I’m in a subcompact. How bad will this get? Does he have a gun? Or, will he keep it simple and just run me off the road with a triumphant fist pump? Will I be late for Girl Scouts?

How is this going to end?

I do some quick thinking. Finally. Thoughts not just reactions. I mentally pat myself on the back as my synapses fire two or maybe three times…in a row with no problems!

Actually, I stopped breathing for 8 minutes.

They say necessity is the mother of invention, right? Well, it is. I am inventing a solution with  an unfettered brain buzz that comes just before you die or you nearly die. I’ve scene this in the movies: It’s always in slow motion.

I do the only thing I think will hit the reset button. (Yes. I know there’s no real reset button. Curse you, Staples! Or Vanilla Sky…)

I decide on the element of SURPRISE!

Of course, I had just surprised him quite a bit a moment earlier by nearly snuffing out his life. “Surprise, dude!”

Yet, this is precisely why he will never see a second surprise coming. Really, I had him right were I wanted him.

(If only the roaring terror in my brain had let me enjoy that precious moment. Alas, no. Not at all.)

I enact my own creative SEAL 6 black ops tactic I now call:

Operation Boo-hoo.

It’s go time!

I burst into tears.

I cry.

Sob, really.
Or, I pretend to.

Who has the time to form actual tears at such a high rate of speed and in heavy traffic–before they’re about to be murdered in an act of heedless revenge? Me neither.

Armed with a fistful of tissues I wipe my eyes and feign bawling. A lot. He approaches in haste (of course, because he’s ready to kill me).

From me: Zero eye contact. (Like he’s not even there. A genius move. Remember that for later in your own travels.)

Peripherally, I see him. He edges up to my blind spot. Hovering. Ready to pounce.

He’s poised. He peers. He notices me. He witnesses total hysteria. …and then…mercifully… eases off. (Perhaps I turned out to be a 3 gallon bucket of mess and he only has a 2 gallon bucket that day.)

Yes, I counted on his attitude changing once he thought something else was going on with me. Something mental. Something suicidal or wickedly moronic–barely thwarted by his quick reflexes.

Or, just something too crazy to understand.

Shock and bawl.

I was going for, “Wha….?” 
Is it Grief? remorse? madness? sorrow? a lost puppy? What. is. the. deal?
Whatever…let me just say it worked. Perfectly.

Later, I rewarded myself with a new box of Kleenex…with aloe.
I’m not sure why I wasn’t armed with aloe tissues in the first place. But, never again.
Because that would be crazy.

If that was you in the Jeep, thanks.

I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t see you. We both avoided certain doom.

P.S. (I might have not been 7 years old at the time.)

What Ligers Taught Me About Blogging

Liger2
Creative Commons License Photo Credit: M Sullivan via Compfight

Several thousand people arrive at my blog each month because of Ligers.

But maybe you’ve noticed that this isn’t a blog about Ligers. Actually, I rarely feature any big cats, or animals of any kind.

But for the magic of SEO, and Google, they come, massive web traffic, visitors in search of Liger related who-knows-what. If you google “name the liger” I’ll be the first entry.

People want to know if they’re real, or if Napoleon Dynamite was on to something about their skillz in magic. Maybe they want to see one up close. The Myrtle Beach Wildlife Reserve had a baby liger they were showing off, so boom! Liger fans. It’s all been a big flippin’ mistake…

Truth be told, I like Ligers. There’re pretty much my favorite animal. Back in 2010, on a lark I decided that a Liger would be a nice mascot here. After all, I’m a mixed breed myself. I popped up a post about it. “Name the Liger” I said. And still they come.

Lots of useless traffic…Or was it?

Instead of staying frustrated by this feline epic #fail, or even….well…you know being embarrassed by all the ligerish corniness, I decided employ some “Liger Leverage”.

See? They’re magic after all.

I just repurposed the post. In a spirit of general generosity, I worked on giving people something they were looking for.

I linked to the news some readers no doubt wanted about the wildlife reserve, I added some Liger info, and linked to a helpful resource with detailed information and stats on these and other hybrid felines. And I also added an invitation for [errant] visitors to poke around the rest of the site…you know for other flipping’ sweet stuff.

Guess what? In just two weeks, my bounce rate dipped about 35%! (That’s the stat that shows that people notice they’ve gone to the wrong place and click away quickly.) I might have even gained some regular readers.

Are people visiting your blog for the wrong reasons?
It turns out you can redeem the mistake. Use Liger Leverage!