Hotline

A peek at what a suicide hotline might look like if it were run by Apple support.

Adult Children

During the sermon this morning, our pastor asked what we thought it was like or meant to be a child of God. The congregation wrote down answers and was invited to share if they wanted to.

There were some really good responses. Actually, all of them were good. Being a child of God is like…

…having peace.
…being loved.
…being accepted.
…being forgiven.
…being able to serve.

There were many, many others. But I noted something while I was at lunch with my friends. All of them were very adult answers. That is, they were answers an adult would give. They are answers that speak of a life that has had its share of pain and sorrow as well as joy. They weren’t the innocent answers of a child (how could they be?). The response at lunch was telling. My friends replied that of course they were adult answers, there weren’t any children there.

I didn’t have opportunity to reply as the conversation turned on its merry way to other delightful topics. But I felt sad at that fact. They were right, the congregation was full of adults and a baby or two and at least one child, but I doubt there were two present. The rest of the kids were in their own Sunday morning activities having fun and learning in a different way instead of being in the church service.

Then again, they weren’t right. The room was full of children. The sermon spoke to that. These children had simply forgotten a little bit about being children. As if Peter Pan really did grow up.

Being a child of God is indeed about peace and compassion and joy and forgiveness and love. But a child generally doesn’t think in such clear terms. At least, I didn’t when I was a child. I simply knew I was safe at home or with my parents. I didn’t need to describe it, it just was. I took it for granted, no doubt, but that was part of the indescribable nature of the whole thing.

So I thought about my own answer to what it is like to be a child of God, but in the way an adult who is thinking as a child would answer.

Being a child of God is like…

…running through the sprinklers on a summer day.
…ice cream in a sugar cone melting onto your hand.
…skinning your knees in a baseball game.
…trying to swing all the way around the swing set.
…playing freeze tunnel tag, no tag backs, safe zone at the oak tree for five seconds.
…a rainstorm while the sun is still shining on the horizon.
…staying up past your bed time for a fireworks show.
…running, for no reason, in any direction.
…water balloon fights.
…making a sand castle and wondering where the tide takes it.
…being friends with everyone else around your age because that’s just how the world works, isn’t it?

At least, that’s what I think. How about you?

Bye Bye, Pluto

An international body has ruled that Pluto is no longer a planet.  Now it’s a dwarf planet.

I give a week until we can’t call it a dwarf planet anymore and start calling it a little planet or a size-challenged planet, depending.

The Work Boundary

I’ve long felt that I have friends at work and friends outside of work.  The line between the two rarely, if ever, blurred or ceased altogether.  When I was at work, I could speak with my work friends.  If I saw them while I was with my outside-of-work friends, though, there would be an uncomfortable feeling for me.

Reason being that these work friends represented work to me.  Not in the fact that it took more work than usual to sustain a friendship, but because I worked with them.  My first thoughts around them were about work related issues, not the stuff of friends.  I have my friends outside of work for that.

Something has changed, though.  When I got home yesterday and thought of the stories I was to tell friends of my weekend, the boundary between my friends at work and my friends outside of work wasn’t there.  They were all simply my friends, to one natural extent or another.  What’s more is that I don’t think of work when I think of my friends that I work with.

Seems like a good thing.

Worry vs Working

I’ve noticed a bit of a trend lately in the world around me. Often it is the case where people who are thought to be hard workers also worry more about the tasks before them. They may be productive in this fashion, but a great deal of energy goes into simply being concerned about everything on their plate. The trend is that folks like this tend to be well-regarded as people with a work ethic to strive for.

This confuses me. I know plenty of people who worry less, if at all, and work just as hard or harder. These folks are generally less stressed out and seem to be regarded as folks who get things done. This isn’t to say that the worriers don’t get things done, but the world’s perception of them is more that they work hard. When I think of this type of person, I think of the old man doing a simple job slowly. When others ask him to speed up, he turns and says, “I could do it faster or I can do it right.” and continues on. The concept of moving quickly and being right isn’t quite there. Being right is all there is to it.
I think I travel easily between these two types of people. I’m sure there are many more as well. But I find it occasionally frustrating that the people who don’t worry and are known to get things done don’t seem to be in the first draft when people are looking for help. We want the people who do important things for us to not just work hard, but look like they are working hard. The worriers excel at not just working hard, but appearing to work hard as well.

The folks who get it done don’t think about the spotlight or who is watching. The important thing is not who sees the task get done and what they think but that the task is simply done. There tends to be less stress involved, but also less adventure or excitement.

Which do you think is better?

Fear Mongering Commentary

Rex Hammond has some good words about the fear mongering going on today with the terrorism and security threats going on.

Who needs terrorists causing terror when we have the evening news?

Found via Scripting News.

Men’s Bathroom Politics

If you’ve ever been a man, there are some unspoken social rules when it comes to being in a public restroom.  I, for one, think it’s a poor place to have a pickup meeting (I’m kind of busy, you know?) while others seem to think the men’s restroom is the best place to discuss the big project.  Most men seem to agree that there is a degree of uncomfortableness being in the restroom together by chance or otherwise.

jonsonblog has a great write up that is apparently true of the social structure of the men’s restroom running amok. I’ve never gone to such great lengths myself, but can easily see where any man could.