Cursing and $h*t

On my walk this morning, I heard a young man talking to another young man. They were using a lot of profanity. My radar went up, and I immediately judged that they weren't "nice" young men. And God immediately called me out. He was a lot less concerned about their "language" than He was my thoughts toward them which were anything but grace-full.


I'm sure I'm not the only one (if we're being honest) who makes these snap judgments. (Let's see a show of hands...)

Some people won't type or write the word God. They put a dash or asterisk in the middle, like this: G-d. They believe that His name is so Holy that writing it would be desecrating it. But then is that read aloud as "GD"? Because if it is, other people would think you were using the acronym for "Goddamn" which is really bad.

I said "crap" from the pulpit during a sermon once. I honestly didn't think "crap" was a "bad word" but the pastor's wife thought differently.

Sometimes I say "shit" when I stub my toe. I know I'm not a bad person. I know Jesus loves me. You might think otherwise though.

I know so many people who use "colorful" language...so many good, kind, loving people. So why in the hell do I judge those I don't know? (See what I did there?)

I used to judge people who smoke cigarettes. Which is absolutely insane. My Dad smoked all his life. He was an amazing guy. I have kids who smoke. Again, amazing guys. I used to smoke. And we all know how amazing I am! But my immediate judgment when I'd see someone smoking was that they are lower on the food chain because it is such a stupid addiction, therefore they must be stupid. I'm happy to report that got over that judgment. But first I had to acknowledge it was there...

Cursing. There is acceptable cursing and then the unacceptable stuff. We all have our lines we draw. (Well, all of us who are still tormented by the judgment radar thingy...)

But when I really think about it from a heavenly perspective, what kind of cursing is God concerned with? I think He hates it when we curse other people...with slander and gossip...or by wishing them ill-will. I'm not sure He loves it when we call the guy who changed lanes in front of us an idiot. Yet this kind of cursing happens within circles of people who would never utter a four-letter word.

It's stupid, really...all of this judging. It is so wasteful and not life-giving. But it is something that dammit, we all do...
I'm working on it. Better yet, God is working on me.

Faith and Stuff...y

After an afternoon of Play-doh and Legos and so much fun, I was snuggled into the twin bed with Mr. Brilliance. It is my favorite time of the day. We lie there together in the semi-darkness and I give powerful renditions of our favorite songs (right now it's Best Friend by Harry Nilsson) and he tells me profound facts about dinosaurs, and life in general. Then Nonny starts to fade with hopes that he will soon.

But on this particular night, there was no fading happening. "Nonny, I usually fall to sleep with a stuffy." You all know what a stuffy is, right? (I didn't at first, but quickly figured it out.) "Oh shoot, buddy. We were supposed to bring one, but we forgot..." "But Nonny, I need a stuffy...(whiny voice starting to kick in. We were really tired...) "How about you snuggle this furry pillow?" "No, I don't like to snuggle pillows. It's not the same." (OK, that clearly didn't work.) Well, Sweet Pea...I'm sorry but I don't have a stuffy." Silence for a minute. I thought he had found some acceptance, and fatigue took over. But that was not the case. "Nonny, could you please go look for one?" What? Go look for a stuffy? Where? Am I really gonna have to get dressed and drive to Safeway? Does Safeway even have stuffies?

All of you grandmas out there know that we aren't accustomed to saying "no" to these children. We had to raise our own kids with a lot of "no"s and this is one of the rewards of being grandparents. But here I was feeling like a big failure...what kind of Nonny doesn't have stuffies?

"Nonny, pleeease? Please just go look?"

"OK buddy, I'll go look..." I said without a lot of hope. I was thinking at this point maybe he would fall asleep during the time I was searching, and the problem would be solved until the next day when I would be going stuffy shopping at first light.

As I walked down the stairs I breathed a quick "Oh God, help me here" and headed to the garage. We have moved a lot in the past few years, and we have a remnant of boxes left to be sorted through...garage sale, keepsakes, and stuff we've toted around and kept for almost 20 years in case our offspring ever want it. I was looking for just such a box.

First box I looked into was old curtains and linens. We clearly need a donation pile out here. This garage floor is cold. Oh yeah, hubby told me not to come out here barefoot until he gets "OUCH!!!" something cleaned up. This is futile. How am I gonna get this dear boy to sleep tonight? One more box...AHA!! I can't believe it!! STUFFIES!!!

You know how Jesus taught that we need to become as little children to enter His kingdom? I get it now! I mean, I really get it!! My grandson didn't question "if" I had a stuffy! I'm his Nonny for goodness sake, of COURSE I have one! I didn't know it, but he did. He asked. He received. Simple. Childlike. Faith.

And what do we do after we have made our request? We rest...