Happy Little Trees

I am doing a repeat costume today. I am a Starbucks barista. Nobody else at work dressed up. I suppose I was the only one that got the memo.

I thought about modifying the outfit so I could be a Princess Barista, but I still wanted to add on tattoos, so I didn't know if Princess and tattoos mix--I might end up looking like Paris Hilton Barista.

Next year, I think I really want to dress like a princess. Or maybe a fairy. I've spent my whole life being a clown, a cheerleader, or a nerd...and I need to realize that dressing like a princess is okay for me. Not every princess has to have flowing blonde hair or be graceful.

Maybe now I'll be a bit old to be a princess, but hey, better late than never. And princess also kind of means the boss, so that means I can be a princess if I say I'm a princess--I make the rules. Or then I'd be a queen...no wonder I never was a princess. The monarchy system is so complicated.

Sometimes I wonder: Can I bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan?

I confess I was a bad voter. I brought along my voting guide to my early voting experience and only thumbed through it a few times to look at the views of the Railroad Commissioner (I don't even know what that role is).

The rest of my voting experience was pretty much just voting for my party, with the exception of a few people I personally know or have seen a lot of signs for. What I'm most frustrated with myself about is the fact that the local dudes will probably make more decisions that effect me personally (and my vote will have a greater % impact), and I casually just picked names that sounded familiar.

I am prolife/anti-death penalty, but does it matter if my railroad commissioner feels that way, too? I wish the election could go beyond life/death and could be focused on civil liberties or laws beyond legal ways to end life.

I've been thinking that if most Democrats are usually pro-choice but anti-death penalty, and Repulicans are usually pro-life but pro-death penalty, then the conflict is really when we want to kill something. At which cell stage do we want to kill it--a few weeks past zygote or the prison stage? I vote life all around, myself. Save the cells!!!

Why do people in the parking garage at work who have unassigned places park in the same place every day?
 
I noticed a similar phonemenon when I was a teacher and didn't assign students seats. They normally would sit in the same general area everyday, and basically unconsciously assign themselves a seat.
 
Perhaps sameness is comforting. And I suppose sometimes our cars park in that work spot a little more often than they do in their place at home or anywhere else.
 
I have this vision that I'll be able to run strange reports in heaven--like track my patterns on the earth. I guess the Garmin watch would do that for me, but I don't really want to attach a GPS device to my body. I prefer to live free.

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I remember hearing about the disturbances of the Kenyan Presidential elections. I wondered how a county that had come so far, could fall apart with an election announcement. But the current election we are in is making me a bit tense. I am not one who appreciates conflict. Some people thrive on it. And they're good at it. I'm more of a peacemaker, so election time sends me a bit over the edge. Neither candidate is the Messiah. And honestly, our President is pretty much a figurehead at times.

I'm not into angry crowds, and I feel like both sides on this election are angry. They're angry at W. They're angry at banks. They're angry at oil companies. They're angry at teachers. They're angry at taxes. I'm not angry at anybody.

Since we all have an opinion, here's mine (for today), I think our moral compass is so off that we're trying to make politics define it, and it's not going to work--no matter how good any program or law or tax cut is that we establish.

Americans have a sin problem. And an irresponsiblity problem. We eat too much, drink too much, swear too much, spend too much, and wonder why our lives aren't perfect (I'm not saying that just by being "good" all our problems would be solved either).

We have the tendency to be a country of Numero Unos. We have to let our desire for success grow into encouraging others to succeed as well. Instead of pointing to politicians to solve our problems, we all as individuals need to face our own problems.

Remember how the fish in Finding Nemo all had to swim up to save themselves? We need to do that. We all need to swim up--or look up--beyond what our instincts tell us. Whether swimming up means picking yourself up by your bootstraps or just being kind to those around you, do it. And encourage those around you to swim up, too.

Oh dear. I think I just wrote a campaign speech. Ugh! The election!!

It's technically fall, but in Houston, it's not quite here yet. It is almost time to start pulling out a few layers, and I am so excited to wear one of my favorite clothing items--the cardigan.

In my mind, I pretend I look like this:


But in reality, I probably wind up a little more like this:


It's a delicate balance.

Last night, we got together all the Houston YL groups. The last time that we met, we had some difficulty with a few of the students we brought getting into a confrontation with students from another school. We were a bit anxious about bringing our students back again this year, but were hoping that by-gones were by-gones, and that the presence of the po-po would help.
 
Things seemed to be going well, and in ex-teacher fashion, I made sure I sat by the kids that didn't want me sitting by them. There were probably 250 kids at the event. All of the sudden, the kids sitting by me moved out in a group, and before I knew it there was a wave of confrontation right in my midst. This is the third time this has happened to me. Somehow, I am always in the middle of the mess. It ended quickly, and then about 20 minutes later, to my left, was another wave. This time, I saw the same kid that was involved in the confrontation in the same situation this year.
 
When it happened last year, I was so frustrated with him. I didn't know him, but his tattoos, gold tooth, and tough attitude turned my attitude towards being negative towards him. I had wished that he hadn't been allowed to come.
 
Over the last year, my heart towards him has softened. He has a few new tattoos (one of his mom's name), but more importantly, I saw him accept Christ at camp. And when I see him now, instead of snarling at me and everyone else in his path, he smiles. And when we share the word, he listens.
 
I love this kids and am so blessed to visibly see God work in his life. So last night, when I saw him in the midst of fists, my heart hurt. The disturbance was quickly settled, and I guess to his credit, he calmed down faster this year.
 
His behavior made me think. I thought about how Christ has changed me, but sometimes when I am in old scenarios, the same attitudes and actions can quickly flow out. I pray he continues to morph into the man God has created him to be. I pray that he knows that he is a new creation--the old has gone, the new has come. And that God loves him even in the middle of his mess.
 
In the car on the way home as I drove through the fifth ward, a few of the young man's friends explained to me what the issue was from their side. They said the other kids were wannabees in the hood. In their eyes, those kids lived in nice homes and had good lives, but wanted to be bad, because it was cool. The kids in my car all said that they didn't have a choice. Whether they liked it or not, they had all seen someone shot. I tried to remember if I had seen someone shot, and I don't think I have (hope I never do).
 
Lots of times when the kids leave my car, my heart hurts. Because I wish I could protect them all and keep them in a little bubble. And because I see their potential and hope and pray that they are wise, and make good choices. Teenagers of all SES levels can sometimes flip so easily from right path to wrong path.
 
It's such a blessing to be with these kids even if it's just for a small part of their life. I am so blessed with getting the privilege of knowing these kids.