Gender What?

As I recently looked at the “disclaimer” at the bottom of listing on the Monster job site, I saw this in the footer of the job posting….

As an AA/EEO employer, “INSERT NAME OF INSTITUTE OF HIGHER LEARNING HERE” recruits, hires, and promotes qualified persons in all job classifications without regard to age, race, color, religion, sex, sexual orientation, gender, gender identity, gender expression, national origin, ethnic origin, disability, genetic information, covered veteran status, or any other basis protected by law. 

I guess my old-fashion-ness is showing, but the words “orientation”, “expression” and “identity” seem a little hard to nail down.  It would seem any questioning of a persons claims associated with these words tagged on as a suffix would make virtually anything a person does part of the norm.  This is not denying the world is a crazy place and circumstances have caused crazy thoughts and patterns to occur in people’s lives.  Regardless, with all of these qualifiers, it still seems like we are bending so far over backwards to be inclusive that we have forgotten how to be clear.

Since our genes give us a our gender and we are allowed to question our genetics, it would seem unfair to not be able to change our race, age or color by a simple declaration.  Something like, “I, [state your name] declare myself to be a 30 year old, Chinese-American.” (I have no desire to change my gender, thank you.)  If someone denies me the right to make this proclamation, wouldn’t they be questioning my right to alter my orientation, expression or identity?  They may argue, “Genetically and chronologically, you can’t alter your age or race or color.”  That seems quite discriminatory.  Why can certain things “baked into the baby” be changed when other things not be changed?

I realize I am not a biologist, psychologist, or a geneticist.  I don’t have the scientific background, (beyond my 5 senses–or 4, I don’t think tasting helps unless it has something to do with spicy food.  Maybe this should be another protected class.  Spicy food can offend some people.  I officially propose adding “diet” to the list above.  The poor peanut allergy people don’t seem to be adequately protected by the disclaimer.) to assess such important things.  But, it seems science has been redefined from what it was a few years ago.  I guess the problem is the science of the past was repressive and wrong, so it was reevaluated.  (Maybe evolution and the big bang could be given the same scrutiny.)

If we are going to go all in with “disclaimers”, might I suggest the following…

  • Diet:  (see above)  Besides nut allergies, spicy food and a strict vegetarian diet can sometimes have detrimental affects on the office environment, too.  I know we are all big enough to hold our noses and not mention it, but it should be explicitly protected.
  • Heavy sweaters:  I have worked with people who fall into this category.  They took great strains to not have people made aware of this fact.  The person I am referring to worked in retail.  He changed his t-shirt multiple times per day.  The secondary effect of his sweating was attempting to control the odor.  I know this quality might not come out until a person is hired and working.  It still seems unfair not to protect them as well.
  • Religious expression:  If they endorse the behaviors of one religion and not another religion merely for practicing their faith, then it does seem inconsistent.  As a Christian, I try to be flexible with what others believe.  How far do I let other religions go in this expression?  If it is codified in a neat little generic clause like listed above, the doubters can point but the ambiguity can continue.
  • This is not really a specific add on, but maybe it would help clarify.  Is it really “law” or is it Presidential decree or proclamation?  It seems a little bold referring to all of the issues addressed in the disclaimer as “being protected by law”. (I know some of them have been for many years.  Some of them are “hitchhikers” where the law is still unclear.)  Would this be natural law?  If natural law, some of the issues mentioned above would not seem to qualify.  (Gender confusion may allow for short term peace and happiness, but it doesn’t do much for continuing the human race.)

Have I offended or bothered you?  It was not my goal, but it was an accepted possibility.  I believe we have a right to participate in a work environment that is a positive, encouraging place.  If all of the things introduced in the disclaimer above are evident in every work place, I believe there will be to much tip-toeing around trying to be inclusive.  If the thought police care more about what you think and don’t say then what is done to fulfill your job description, then maybe staying self-employed is a saner option than being obligated to “endorse” all of the above behaviors.  God, please help our country!!

 

Greetings From The Curb

When I get an idea while walking, I pull out my Iphone and attempt to capture my thoughts.  While sometimes the voice capture feature does okay, most times it leaves me a little wanting.  If I capture a note and fail to review it within a day or so, I often can’t recognize my original thought.  Today’s thought was supposed to be, “Grading on the curve”.  My chosen English female friend on my Iphone chose to record this as “greetings from the curb”.  I can blame the wind or my inability to enunciate clearly.  The point is if I were writing this next week, I might have no idea what the note was a reminder of.

Why did I feel the need to capture this thought?  I was trying to find a way to describe what God does with us.  Does God award heaven on a curve?  No.  This is assuming you have already confessed you are unable to “do” salvation on your own.  You recognize you need a Savior, and His name is Christ.  My thought comes in a post-conversion situation. (Or post being born-again or being saved or “washed in the blood”.  I hope this is completely clear what I am referring to.)

God had given us all different abilities.  He has given us different strengths and weaknesses.  He does not hold us all to the same level of service.  He wants all of our hearts and our lives.  We don’t become us thru the efforts of a cookie cutter.  We are all uniquely made and given unique talents and abilities.  We may be similar to others on the outside, but on the inside we have talents given to us by God.  These talents allow us to reach unsaved people in a variety of different ways.

As I live my life, I often ask the question, “Am I doing enough? With all of the potential I believe I have, am I doing enough to justify a “C” grade?” (Depending on another person’s ability, if they were to do what I have done, they might justify an “A”. )  So, if I am figuratively on the curb, what more can I do to give a better witness of He who gave all for me? When I get off of the curb is there a grading curve?  Are all types of witnessing good action or does God make us accountable for the decisions we make in regards to how our witnessing/evangelizing time is spent(or not spent)?

I know we don’t just get an “A” for effort.  I regularly seek God’s will, and I encourage you to do the same.  If there is a good-better-best plan for my life, I want best.  If there is a plan that involves lots of trusting God, I pray I have the ability to turn all of my fears over to my Maker. And, if there is a plan that relies on us depleting our savings and relying entirely on God, then may our kids forgive us for doing what God has asked us to do.

I know God realizes what I wrote, but do I?  I think I do, now may He put the pieces in place to allow it to occur.

 

Life Mystery

Yesterday, both my daughter and my wife informed me the girls would not be having softball practice today.  I thought that was a little odd.  The coach is pretty hardcore about practicing.  Even if the coach used running during practice time to remind the team not to make so many errors, she rarely gives up a practice  UNLESS the weather is working against her.

As I show up at the regular “no practice” pickup time, my youngest daughter comes out without her books or anything.  She let me know the reason practice was cancelled.  It turns out one of the fathers of a girl on the team had committed suicide over the weekend.  I won’t say I took this hard, but it certainly does make one wonder what brings a person to this point.  Prior to last Saturday’s game, I believe the dad had attended nearly every game.  We had talked quite a bit while watching our girls play.

He genuinely had a good heart.  At one of the games, he bought a packet of M&Ms.  He shared a few with me.  He usually stood behind the bleachers and leaned on them.  I was usually sitting on the second row from the top.  He would just talk about his softball exploits, or his time with his daughter, or whatever other random thing a middle aged dad might think to say.  He was probably less odd than me….but this still left plenty of room for him to my left.  I wasn’t the only one he talked to–he seemed to enjoy being social as he roamed the back of the bleachers talking to whoever would listen or had a thought to share.

Just last Saturday I was talking to the mother of the girl.  During the games I attended, the parents interacted and seemed to get along.  There did seem to be some distance, but I never was bold enough to ask the specifics.  Last Saturday, the mother was talking about shopping for groceries.  In context, it was appropriate to ask who she buys them for.  (I believe the specific point was with bananas.)  She said, “I only buy for myself and my daughter.”   It was at this point I was certain they were divorced, and they played nicely for the sake of their daughter.

Last night, my daughter made both my wife and I promise we would never end our lives in such a sudden way.  We assured her we would not.  The mystery of why someone would end their life in such an immediate way puts me at quite a loss.  Relationships are not always as smooth as you would like.  Finances can also be a source of frustration.  I have found that no matter how badly things may go the only consistent comfort comes from knowing God put you on this planet for a purpose.  If you are still asking that question, then God still has a purpose to reveal to you.  When hope dies, the heart often follows.

 

Old People Sunday School

After foregoing Sunday School (aka Adult Bible Class) for over a year, we finally decided to try and get in the habit again.  My daughters get “credit” for attending both church and Sunday School as part of their Christian School education, so rather than play hooky while the other mature adults gathered in their weekly groups, we decided to test the waters and join them.

As we wandered the halls seeking guidance and direction for which class to attend, we stumbled across a man who gave us some clarity.  The “portable Adult Bible Class Information desk” informed us, “This class is 30’s to 50’s.  The other class is 30’s on up.”  For some reason, we felt in an “on up” mood, so we chose to walk through the doors of this classroom.

My immediate reaction was not positive.  As my eyes did a first sweep of the crowd, I believe gray dominated every head of hair in the audience.  Additional sweeps found exceptions, but there were not many.  As we found our seats and avoided the walkers and canes, members of the class were giving their prayer requests.  In our past life, prayer requests were about aging parents and wayward children.  Most of today’s prayer requests were about hip replacements and grandchildren on mission trips.  Certainly, all prayer requests are valid.  None of the prayer requests allowed my eyes to filter out any of the gray they had already seen.

As the time to teach began, I was prepared to have the theme repeat itself.  I was ready to see old, tired people stand up front and give an obligatory lesson with a much less than inspiring message.  Fortunately, I was very disappointed.  The first person stood behind the lectern and attached his headset.  He immediately introduced his “team teacher” for the day.  The next 45 or so minutes was an interactive dialogue with good comments from the crowd.  The team teachers took enough shots at eat other to keep both the crowd interested and God happy.  

As my wife and I left, we had a nice conversation with an older couple.  (It was really all that was available.)  They let us know this was a “normal” week.  When we walked out the door, I let the primary teacher know I enjoyed it.  

Maybe we will or maybe we won’t attend this class again next week.  If we don’t, it is only because we are curious what the other classes do.  It has nothing to do with the age demographic or the amount of gray hair in the audience.  Bible Class is about studying the Bible.  If  you want to hang out with people your own age, you can go to your job or the rec center.  If you want to appreciate the book that your faith is based upon, older people are likely wiser than you and if there hearing aid is turned up, you can have a conversation! 😉

Walking With My Senses

As I was walking today, I experienced a couple things that inspired a few of my sense to higher places.  As a stroke of creative genius (or in a fit of over-inflated ego), I captured pictures of a couple of things my senses constantly seeking….

Smell

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Since we lived in Ohio, I have missed the smell of lilac.  And, while I cannot say for certain this is a lilac, it smelled LOTS like one.  It may have only temporarily hijacked my sense because my lilac-sensor was out of practice.  Regardless, whatever it was, I enjoyed it.  The aroma/scent/smell tapped into a part of my brain I have not visited for awhile.  I pictured our house in Ohio with the lilacs on the east side of the house.  I pictured my nose stretching into their blooms with my eyes closed–trying to capture the moment a little longer.

Sight

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All parts of the country (and world I am guessing) have their native wild flowers.  I don’t necessarily love just this flower while forgoing all others.  While working at my landscaping job many years ago, I took great pride in trying to memorize all of the names of the flowers sitting in the green houses at the nursery.  (My pronunciation may not have been right, but I could spell them.)   I love natures color.  And, since spring is the season worthy of queen status, I love this time of year the most.  (The wet Texas spring has certainly helped remind me how much I love it.)

Sound (No pictures here!)

When I walk, I don’t have the ear buds in.  I just like listening to whatever is there to distract me.  If I want to talk to myself, I don’t have to talk over any music.  If I want to listen to the birds or the breeze or the the bicyclist/walkers who I walk past, I can give them a smile and “hello” without trying to convince them the music (or whatever the buds are delivering) are more important-I can try to be sincerely interested in them.

Touch

A bit of a stretch here—I am not in the habit of picking up things or crawling while on my walk.  During a portion of the walk, the rains has gifted me with a partially flooded path.  As I walk thru this part of the path, I tiptoe or pick my feel up to try and avoid the wet impact my normal gait would create.  When the splash occurs, the droplets briefly run down my leg.  I only feel the first one–my mind has gone gone back to a time when walking barefoot through the water and splashing were more acceptable.  Everyone should have some memories involving water and unexpected wetness.

Taste

For some reason, I am not in the habit of picking up things and tasting them along my walk either….  Today was no exception.  Today, I had an early-stage cold coming on.  I have been brainwashed into believing using Zinc lozenges is a way to minimize the length of the colds uninvited stay.  Although my sense of taste is generally left out of the walking experience, today I tasted every bit of medicine (homeopathic, but still medicine)  before it was swallowed on its journey to whatever zinc does when it is invited by way of an oral invasion.

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Although not explicitly stated, this blog post is meant to be a little “thank you” to God.  I am blessed to have each of my senses, my thoughts, and experiences.  I don’t have to rely on a walk to be reminded of these things, but it is a pretty good catalyst.   When I separate myself from the computer and most of my electronics (the phone that almost never rings does accompany me), I gain perspective.   I am reminded of my size in comparison to the rest of creation, and I am reminded of my Creator.  So, the question is, “Do I really like to walk OR do I really just like to use all of my sense to carry on a dialogue with my Maker?”

 

Revenge Of The Pink Poodle

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Merry Christmas to all! Well, at least it was when I first had the brilliant idea this would make a good post!

I have seen this pink poodle lawn ornament on previous walking trips, but while walking today, it made a special impression.  As my brain noodled on the poodle, I tried to come up with a few theories as to why this creation made it out on their front yard along with the other items that were part of their secular display. (I remember a couple of penguins and related “polar” items.)

A few of my working theories:

  • Somewhat who is not an animal lover lost some sort of bet.
  • The residences of this house are one of only a few people on the planet seeking a lost herd of pink poodles.  This ornament is a constant reminder that there mission is not yet complete!
  • These are the remains of a mummified poodle previously owned by the residences.  Or, maybe the ashes are stored somewhere on the present ornament.  Thus, allowing “Fi-Fi” do live on for many more Christmases!
  • This ornament is a beacon to the space ships bringing the invaders from the planet “Bark”.
  • The dog works days and the pink flamingo works at night.

All of my whining is not really relevant–really it is not.  Where my decorations were a few lights and a loud, “Ho, ho, ho!” whenever the front door was opened, this neighbor chose to make their yard a buffet of animals.  If they find it important to have a yard for unwanted ornaments (picture the Rudolph special where there is an island for unwanted toys), then it would seem rather petty of me to criticize their special purpose.  Were it not for their efforts, their ornaments would have been picked up by a rather large vehicle that makes house calls and picks things up at the curb once or twice a week.

And, deep, deep down, this is the real meaning of Christmas.  We are all attempting to find a purpose, and when we were at our lowest, we were recycled and put in a yard where our King is very proud of us.  (Possibly a little too deep and meandering, but I “think” I got us there.)

Blessed Eggs

As the “alarm clock” (My mother calling from a time zone to the east) went off this morning, the day began.  With everyone needing to be out of the house by 10:00 (or so I thought), the coffee got going and the breakfast options were decided.

I had boring toast. Even though it was some special new flavor from the discount bakery, it worked well with peanut butter, so I was content. My wife pulled out the eggs to get her diet its necessary protein fix.  I wrongly assumed the eggs were for her, when she had already decided they were for my son.  As my son (the one heading to a day of food prep at Chick Fil A) watches my wife make his eggs for his breakfast this morning, I scold him for letting her do it.

He casually replies, "I am making the toast."
Unfazed, I reply, "I could make toast in a body cast."

My son and I laugh.  My wife glares.  My daughters look annoyed as they turn up the volume and continue watching the DVRed “Once Upon A Time.” As my sons scrambled eggs are plated with toast on the side, my wife finishes the carton with the eggs that will serve as her breakfast. Before putting the egg carton in the trash, she glances on the inside lid.  She is rewarded with a bit of inspiration.

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Psalms 118:24 This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.

Prior to realizing this message was inside the carton, I was just glad to get eggs at $0.79 a dozen from Aldi’s .  (Below cost, but it certainly sucks me in the door.) Now that I know this message is there, I think I will smile a little bigger knowing somebody, somewhere cares enough about my eggs and my day to sneak in a bit of encouragement.  If an egg carton can encourage, what can I do to encourage the people I interact with today?