Last Monday morning I got a call from my son's junior high school. He was panicked because someone had made off with his iPhone. We followed protocol and had service suspended, made a report, and even offered a no-questions-asked reward for the phone's safe return. We were disappointed that no one returned the phone. My son spent all of his allowance money that he was saving for spending money on his upcoming mission trip to replace the phone.
While away on our annual family Thanksgiving trip to Mississippi, my husband received a phone call from the bank that provides his corporate credit card. The operator informed him that a suspicious charge was made to his account in another state earlier that week. He had not been to that other state in several weeks, and he was not there at the time of the call. The operator suspended all transactions on his card, and is reissuing a card with a new account number. We thought that to be pretty weird, especially since my husband had physical possession of his card, but the new charge was made by swiping a card. His number was stolen and the crooks made a brand new card! Thankfully, the bank's fraud department was on top of it. We went on about our holiday business.
The day after Thanksgiving, shortly after I got out of the shower and my husband had gone out to the woods, I got a call from our bank informing me that a strange charge for about $260 was pending on my debit card. I did not know anything about this charge, especially since it was made in Malaysia - a country I have never been to, especially not with my debit card. The fraud department picked it up, denied the charge, and issued me a new debit card. I got a little bit freaked out at the coincidence. I quickly had the bank put a fraud warning on all of our accounts with the bank. I found it odd that Matt's card number had been stolen, and so had mine - the two accounts were in no way linked except that Matt and I are married. Weird.
Yesterday my neighbor came over. She was upset. She said that our other neighbor spotted a strange man in a white hoodie creeping around in her backyard, "casing the place". She filed a police report, and gave the police the footage from her newly-installed security cameras. He did not enter her home, but he might have, had it not been for the security cameras scaring him off. Quite frankly, I'm surprised at the nerve of would-be home robbers. This is Texas, and you never know who might be sitting atop a small arsenal, ready to blow your head off. Homestead laws... you have to be one bold dude to break into houses.
All of these things happened within the past 10 days. It's upsetting to think that people would intentionally invade my space, my privacy, my home, or my bank account to attempt to enrich their lives at the expense of my own. You haven't any right to any of my money, my things, or my family members. You haven't any right to intimidate my neighbors and create fear in a neighborhood that was otherwise peaceful and quiet. You haven't any right to create inconvenience to me or my community because of your selfishness. And you're quite lucky that no one has caught you yet.
Thankfully, the only thing we've lost is an iPhone. While it was an expensive replacement, it doesn't compare to what we potentially lost between two large charges to our credit and debit cards, and a house full of personal property. But what really pains me is that anyone thinks that it is okay to come and take what isn't theirs. To take what someone else has worked hard for is really a slap in the face to those of us who pay our debts, buy our own homes and everything in it, and treat their money and lifestyle with responsibility and respect. Never have I taken from anyone else's pocket. Never have I taken from someone else's home. And never have I disrespected someone so much as to sneak the burden of a large debt onto someone else so that I could have something nice for myself. To put it bluntly, I feel violated. I feel disgusted. And I feel angry.
My family and I have made it a point not to be stingy with our money, our time, or our home. We have never turned anyone away who was truly in need. We give to local charities, we have helped out family members, and we have helped out friends. We serve. We love. We give. I guess that's why it pains me so much that someone would circumvent our generosity and take from behind our backs. It's just cruel.
I have always encouraged giving at this time of year - and it is my prayer that these few crooked individuals don't sway my heart away from that. And I pray that my giving spirit would not be jaded by those who would try to convince me that it is better to steal than to take what is given. I do not want my holiday joy to be linked to the wicked spirits of the grinches of our world that try to cast an ugly shadow on an otherwise glorious time. Let my heart be focused on celebrating what is good, and pure, and holy, and wonderful about the Christmas spirit, not on those who would try to crush it.
But don't be fooled: my generous spirit has nothing to do with my wonderful accuracy or my itchy trigger finger. It would definitely be in any thief's best interest to avoid me, my big black lab, and my handgun this holiday season.
Merry Christmas! (Now, get off my property!)
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
No store does more...
For nearly my whole adult life, I have faithfully shopped at Walmart for groceries. I know that sounds silly, but it wasn't necessarily because I believed that Walmart was a store that I should be loyal to, but simply put: their prices were always better. I have always been on a budget, and never really had the luxury of being able to spend money needlessly, especially once I was buying food and supplies for two, then three, and now five. Money gets tight, and food prices aren't exactly falling. Praise God I no longer need to buy baby food and diapers! But feeding a teen aged boy and two growing children doesn't exactly seem any cheaper.
I had a bad experience a few months back at my local Walmart store. I was treated poorly by a cashier. Once I attempted to report the wrong-doing to a manager, she informed me that if my customer service experience was so negative at her store, I might be better off at another grocer. I haven't stepped foot in a Walmart store since. Perhaps it is because I'm super stubborn, but I prefer to think of it as being "principled". My money is just as valuable at one of the 12 other local grocers, and I don't have to take any abuse to spend it there.
So, I have taken my weekly shopping elsewhere. My favorite place to shop happens to be my local HEB. If you aren't familiar with the Texas-based grocery chain, check out their website at www.heb.com. Their prices compare with Walmart's prices. They do not carry the Great Value store brand, but they do offer two store brands of their own that are quite good, some of their items are even better quality/taste than Great Value brand. HEB offers excellent coupons and weekly meal deal specials where you buy a main item, say a package of ground beef, and get several accompanying items for free, like shredded cheese, a two-liter soft drink, and tortillas. Voila! An instant dinner. We check the circulars for these deals because often times they are quite good and you can buy several of them throughout the week to save and freeze for future meals. All in all, I feel like there is a lot of value available at HEB besides just low prices. They have a bakery, fresh seafood, and a butcher - almost unheard of at Walmart anymore. Plus my HEB has a walk-in clinic and a drive-up pharmacy.
But perhaps my biggest grievance with Walmart has always been their service. From the "greeter" at the front door, who really couldn't give a crap whether you "have a nice day" or not, to the always unavailable customer service rep, to the cashier who really didn't want to come in to work today - and it shows. No one seems to care that you are spending your hard-earned dollars in their store or on their product. And worst of all, we take the abuse two to three times a week! I didn't realize how badly I was treated until I stopped shopping there and started shopping at HEB. Walmart will gladly take your money, but what you get in return is a sour attitude, lack of assistance, and a downright intolerance for kindness. What's up with that? They have a slogan, "No store does more than my HEB", and I believe it.
HEB does little extras that mean a lot to me. They still bag groceries for you. Yeah, those days are long gone at Walmart. And I get discounts for bringing my own reusable grocery bags at HEB. And here's the best part: they will help you out to your car, without you having to ask, and they won't accept tips for it. They help you. Amazing. HEB is a Texas-based company, priding itself of keeping the local economy strong. They buy local, sell local, and give local. HEB supports local schools and funds a special summer camp for kids in Texas (my niece used to go every year). HEB hires folks to do jobs - like stocking, cleanup, and bagging - that might not be able to be hired to work elsewhere, like folks with physical or mental handicaps. They participate in a number of charitable events throughout the calendar year, supporting our local communities and charities. Texas proud? Indeed.
Yes, I am now a faithful HEB shopper. I have been ever since Walmart decided to take a giant dump in my wallet. But even for all the reasons I have previously listed, HEB won my heart today.
I have been in a walking fracture boot on my right foot for several days. This will be the case for several more until I can get an MRI. Long story. But despite the fact that I'm walking slowly and with much more effort, the show must go on. I got errands to run and things to do. Moms don't usually have the luxury of stopping their routines because of illness or injury. So I waddled through HEB, getting everything on my shopping list. At the checkout, the kind woman rang my groceries, gave me the coupon discounts, and then asked me where my husband and kids were (can you tell we've become regulars?). While we were "catching up", the sweet man bagged my groceries, meticulously (just the way I like it). He too asked about my family. He calls me "princess" and "boss" a lot, because he thinks it's funny to make my husband feel like he's not in charge, something I find to be very amusing. He also always tells me, "I'll see you tomorrow," because he knows I come in at least twice a week. I think this amuses him some, like having a friend come to visit. He speaks poor English, with a speech impediment, and shows signs of mental retardation. His heart is as big as all of Texas, though, and he has a memory like a steel trap. He remembered how I liked my groceries bagged, did so, and smiled at the last one returning to the cart.
He remembered that my foot was in this ugly boot, and insisted that he walk me to my car since Matt wasn't with me this trip. He talked my ear off about this and that while we slowly hobbled to my truck. He put all my groceries up, and wouldn't let me so much as shut the tailgate. Then he helped me in to my truck, something I am more than capable of doing. At first I was a little off-put. I'm not crippled! But then I saw the love in his eyes. This little act of kindness was big to him, and I didn't want to take that away from him. I thanked him for his help and he nodded. Then he said, "I know that hurts you. I will be glad to help you next time." He showed me the store's phone number on the receipt and urged me to call the store and make sure he is working on my next visit so he can help me shop. I smiled and thanked him again. Then he said, "I will pray." I didn't even have a chance to think about what he had said before he put his hand on my boot and began praying in a combination of broken English and Spanish. Then he made a cross in the air over my foot and smiled at me, "it will get better, I know." He helped me get situated in the truck, and said, "I'll see you tomorrow," and shut the door.
If I have over spent by a million dollars by switching my regular weekly grocery shopping to HEB versus Walmart, I have still stored up treasure in my heart. This sweet soul did far more than bag my groceries, which in and of itself was a kindness I had not been afforded before. He has built a relationship with me, a loyal customer, based on generosity, kindness, and service. And as a representative of several HEB employees (or "Partners" as they call them), he is not in the minority there. But he certainly sticks out.
I know that if I go tomorrow or the next day, he will be more than happy to give me a smile and a wink, as he does most times I come in. I know that he will rib my husband for not being the "boss". I know that he will give my kids Buddy Bucks (special HEB "money" used in a game machine that gives kids points they can earn and save towards prizes). And I know that he will bag my groceries just the way I like them. I also know that he cares deeply for me as a person, not just a patron, and that makes all the difference.
I call him St. Peter, his name is Peter. He's very special.
I'll see him tomorrow...
I had a bad experience a few months back at my local Walmart store. I was treated poorly by a cashier. Once I attempted to report the wrong-doing to a manager, she informed me that if my customer service experience was so negative at her store, I might be better off at another grocer. I haven't stepped foot in a Walmart store since. Perhaps it is because I'm super stubborn, but I prefer to think of it as being "principled". My money is just as valuable at one of the 12 other local grocers, and I don't have to take any abuse to spend it there.
So, I have taken my weekly shopping elsewhere. My favorite place to shop happens to be my local HEB. If you aren't familiar with the Texas-based grocery chain, check out their website at www.heb.com. Their prices compare with Walmart's prices. They do not carry the Great Value store brand, but they do offer two store brands of their own that are quite good, some of their items are even better quality/taste than Great Value brand. HEB offers excellent coupons and weekly meal deal specials where you buy a main item, say a package of ground beef, and get several accompanying items for free, like shredded cheese, a two-liter soft drink, and tortillas. Voila! An instant dinner. We check the circulars for these deals because often times they are quite good and you can buy several of them throughout the week to save and freeze for future meals. All in all, I feel like there is a lot of value available at HEB besides just low prices. They have a bakery, fresh seafood, and a butcher - almost unheard of at Walmart anymore. Plus my HEB has a walk-in clinic and a drive-up pharmacy.
But perhaps my biggest grievance with Walmart has always been their service. From the "greeter" at the front door, who really couldn't give a crap whether you "have a nice day" or not, to the always unavailable customer service rep, to the cashier who really didn't want to come in to work today - and it shows. No one seems to care that you are spending your hard-earned dollars in their store or on their product. And worst of all, we take the abuse two to three times a week! I didn't realize how badly I was treated until I stopped shopping there and started shopping at HEB. Walmart will gladly take your money, but what you get in return is a sour attitude, lack of assistance, and a downright intolerance for kindness. What's up with that? They have a slogan, "No store does more than my HEB", and I believe it.
HEB does little extras that mean a lot to me. They still bag groceries for you. Yeah, those days are long gone at Walmart. And I get discounts for bringing my own reusable grocery bags at HEB. And here's the best part: they will help you out to your car, without you having to ask, and they won't accept tips for it. They help you. Amazing. HEB is a Texas-based company, priding itself of keeping the local economy strong. They buy local, sell local, and give local. HEB supports local schools and funds a special summer camp for kids in Texas (my niece used to go every year). HEB hires folks to do jobs - like stocking, cleanup, and bagging - that might not be able to be hired to work elsewhere, like folks with physical or mental handicaps. They participate in a number of charitable events throughout the calendar year, supporting our local communities and charities. Texas proud? Indeed.
Yes, I am now a faithful HEB shopper. I have been ever since Walmart decided to take a giant dump in my wallet. But even for all the reasons I have previously listed, HEB won my heart today.
I have been in a walking fracture boot on my right foot for several days. This will be the case for several more until I can get an MRI. Long story. But despite the fact that I'm walking slowly and with much more effort, the show must go on. I got errands to run and things to do. Moms don't usually have the luxury of stopping their routines because of illness or injury. So I waddled through HEB, getting everything on my shopping list. At the checkout, the kind woman rang my groceries, gave me the coupon discounts, and then asked me where my husband and kids were (can you tell we've become regulars?). While we were "catching up", the sweet man bagged my groceries, meticulously (just the way I like it). He too asked about my family. He calls me "princess" and "boss" a lot, because he thinks it's funny to make my husband feel like he's not in charge, something I find to be very amusing. He also always tells me, "I'll see you tomorrow," because he knows I come in at least twice a week. I think this amuses him some, like having a friend come to visit. He speaks poor English, with a speech impediment, and shows signs of mental retardation. His heart is as big as all of Texas, though, and he has a memory like a steel trap. He remembered how I liked my groceries bagged, did so, and smiled at the last one returning to the cart.
He remembered that my foot was in this ugly boot, and insisted that he walk me to my car since Matt wasn't with me this trip. He talked my ear off about this and that while we slowly hobbled to my truck. He put all my groceries up, and wouldn't let me so much as shut the tailgate. Then he helped me in to my truck, something I am more than capable of doing. At first I was a little off-put. I'm not crippled! But then I saw the love in his eyes. This little act of kindness was big to him, and I didn't want to take that away from him. I thanked him for his help and he nodded. Then he said, "I know that hurts you. I will be glad to help you next time." He showed me the store's phone number on the receipt and urged me to call the store and make sure he is working on my next visit so he can help me shop. I smiled and thanked him again. Then he said, "I will pray." I didn't even have a chance to think about what he had said before he put his hand on my boot and began praying in a combination of broken English and Spanish. Then he made a cross in the air over my foot and smiled at me, "it will get better, I know." He helped me get situated in the truck, and said, "I'll see you tomorrow," and shut the door.
If I have over spent by a million dollars by switching my regular weekly grocery shopping to HEB versus Walmart, I have still stored up treasure in my heart. This sweet soul did far more than bag my groceries, which in and of itself was a kindness I had not been afforded before. He has built a relationship with me, a loyal customer, based on generosity, kindness, and service. And as a representative of several HEB employees (or "Partners" as they call them), he is not in the minority there. But he certainly sticks out.
I know that if I go tomorrow or the next day, he will be more than happy to give me a smile and a wink, as he does most times I come in. I know that he will rib my husband for not being the "boss". I know that he will give my kids Buddy Bucks (special HEB "money" used in a game machine that gives kids points they can earn and save towards prizes). And I know that he will bag my groceries just the way I like them. I also know that he cares deeply for me as a person, not just a patron, and that makes all the difference.
I call him St. Peter, his name is Peter. He's very special.
I'll see him tomorrow...
Friday, November 9, 2012
Costs of freedom
This morning I had the pleasure of going to watch 777 elementary schoolers sing some of my favorite patriotic songs, in honor of Veterans Day. This happens to be one of my favorite holidays, despite the fact that Texas has chosen not to make it a school-free day. It truly is a day to reflect, rejoice, and reunite. What can be better than that?
My sweet Wes and his third grade class sang the songs for each of the branches of our Armed Forces, and it was nothing short of spectacular. Before each song began, the class would shout out which branch they would be singing about. They started out, "United States Army!" and several of the invited guests, wearing bits and pieces of their Army uniforms from wars as far back as the Korean War would stand and be applauded. "Over hill, over dale..." As the men (and a few women) stood, the crowd erupted in applause. The few men too old and weak to stand on their own were assisted and the students began clapping even harder. It was precious. And the best part is that these kids, all under the age of 11, couldn't possibly understand that they were in the presence of greatness. "United States Navy!" A few more folks stood, including a man who looked barely old enough to enter the service, but an injured Veteran nonetheless. He was wearing full dress uniform. "United States Marines!" A smaller group stood, and applause erupted loudly when two of the teachers also stood to receive cheers. Finally, "United States Air Force!" The kids never lost a beat, singing through all four songs. "Off we go, into the wild blue yonder..." and a gentleman, with the assistance of his wife, stood slowly and saluted the third graders. Tears streamed down my cheeks. It was one of those precious moments when you realize that something amazing has happened, and you wonder if anyone else bore witness. If it weren't for the three rows of grandparents and two canes in my way, I would have gone to that precious man and hugged his neck. He lowered his arm and was assisted back to his wheelchair, but not before finishing the last verse, "Nothing will stop the US Air Force!"
It's hard for kids Wesley's age to have the kind of perspective we have. I know that Wes views Veterans as real American heroes. He worships his Uncle Jay, an Iraq Veteran. He thinks it's super cool that he's related to so many amazing Veterans and service members. He treasures them. But I wonder if any of his classmates understand how incredibly valuable these folks are. How much they are a part of not just American history, but the history of the world. How much they are embedded into the very fabric of our nation, and what kind of sacrifice was offered so that my sweet Wes and his third grade class would have the privilege and honor of reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, and could sing The Star Spangled Banner in a small school gymnasium with children of all races, religions, and cultural backgrounds. Is it possible for a 9 year old to fathom the immense pain of loss and the grief endured for their freedom? Can they understand how much blood is left on the battlefield, and how much pain is stored in the minds and hearts of every combat veteran? Can they imagine what kind of cost war comes with? And do they appreciate the service of people who must leave family and friends to do jobs that no one else can or will do, to ensure the safety of our country, and the freedom and privilege we hold dear? Do we, as adults, even understand it?
As I write this, I sit staring at a pile of pictures. I have grandparents, uncles, sisters, in-laws, cousins, and friends who have or are currently serving. In fact, my brother-in-law left for Afghanistan yesterday. To say that I am proud of my heritage is an understatement.
My heart felt so big, and so full, and so proud today. I stood in a room full of super heroes. I stood in a room full of people who put country before self. I stood beside families who knew what the word sacrifice meant, and had paid the price many times over. I knew I would never be able to repay these veterans for their courage, their commitment, their honor, their sacrifice. But I wouldn't give up on trying.
After high school, I had the privilege of joining the United States Navy. While my naval career was short, to say the least, I take great pride in knowing that my country had called on me to be a member of an elite group of citizens. To ever be counted among the greatest of our country is far more honor than I deserve. But I am grateful nonetheless. I wish now, now that it is too late for me, that I had been able to honor my commitment to the fullest and given back to a nation that has given me so much. What I cannot do in the past, I will try to make up for in the future. Gratitude is paid forward.
I want to honor my family of Veterans. I want to make their courage and commitment known to the world. I am proud of them for doing what I could not. And I want to honor the members of my family that served, even in times of amity, and sacrificed of themselves to ensure safety and peace.
If you haven't yet, teach your children how to honor and respect America's greatest defenders. Teach them how to cherish and treasure the generations before us, and teach them to do it while those generations are still here to appreciate it.
My sweet Wes and his third grade class sang the songs for each of the branches of our Armed Forces, and it was nothing short of spectacular. Before each song began, the class would shout out which branch they would be singing about. They started out, "United States Army!" and several of the invited guests, wearing bits and pieces of their Army uniforms from wars as far back as the Korean War would stand and be applauded. "Over hill, over dale..." As the men (and a few women) stood, the crowd erupted in applause. The few men too old and weak to stand on their own were assisted and the students began clapping even harder. It was precious. And the best part is that these kids, all under the age of 11, couldn't possibly understand that they were in the presence of greatness. "United States Navy!" A few more folks stood, including a man who looked barely old enough to enter the service, but an injured Veteran nonetheless. He was wearing full dress uniform. "United States Marines!" A smaller group stood, and applause erupted loudly when two of the teachers also stood to receive cheers. Finally, "United States Air Force!" The kids never lost a beat, singing through all four songs. "Off we go, into the wild blue yonder..." and a gentleman, with the assistance of his wife, stood slowly and saluted the third graders. Tears streamed down my cheeks. It was one of those precious moments when you realize that something amazing has happened, and you wonder if anyone else bore witness. If it weren't for the three rows of grandparents and two canes in my way, I would have gone to that precious man and hugged his neck. He lowered his arm and was assisted back to his wheelchair, but not before finishing the last verse, "Nothing will stop the US Air Force!"
It's hard for kids Wesley's age to have the kind of perspective we have. I know that Wes views Veterans as real American heroes. He worships his Uncle Jay, an Iraq Veteran. He thinks it's super cool that he's related to so many amazing Veterans and service members. He treasures them. But I wonder if any of his classmates understand how incredibly valuable these folks are. How much they are a part of not just American history, but the history of the world. How much they are embedded into the very fabric of our nation, and what kind of sacrifice was offered so that my sweet Wes and his third grade class would have the privilege and honor of reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, and could sing The Star Spangled Banner in a small school gymnasium with children of all races, religions, and cultural backgrounds. Is it possible for a 9 year old to fathom the immense pain of loss and the grief endured for their freedom? Can they understand how much blood is left on the battlefield, and how much pain is stored in the minds and hearts of every combat veteran? Can they imagine what kind of cost war comes with? And do they appreciate the service of people who must leave family and friends to do jobs that no one else can or will do, to ensure the safety of our country, and the freedom and privilege we hold dear? Do we, as adults, even understand it?
As I write this, I sit staring at a pile of pictures. I have grandparents, uncles, sisters, in-laws, cousins, and friends who have or are currently serving. In fact, my brother-in-law left for Afghanistan yesterday. To say that I am proud of my heritage is an understatement.
My heart felt so big, and so full, and so proud today. I stood in a room full of super heroes. I stood in a room full of people who put country before self. I stood beside families who knew what the word sacrifice meant, and had paid the price many times over. I knew I would never be able to repay these veterans for their courage, their commitment, their honor, their sacrifice. But I wouldn't give up on trying.
After high school, I had the privilege of joining the United States Navy. While my naval career was short, to say the least, I take great pride in knowing that my country had called on me to be a member of an elite group of citizens. To ever be counted among the greatest of our country is far more honor than I deserve. But I am grateful nonetheless. I wish now, now that it is too late for me, that I had been able to honor my commitment to the fullest and given back to a nation that has given me so much. What I cannot do in the past, I will try to make up for in the future. Gratitude is paid forward.
I want to honor my family of Veterans. I want to make their courage and commitment known to the world. I am proud of them for doing what I could not. And I want to honor the members of my family that served, even in times of amity, and sacrificed of themselves to ensure safety and peace.
If you haven't yet, teach your children how to honor and respect America's greatest defenders. Teach them how to cherish and treasure the generations before us, and teach them to do it while those generations are still here to appreciate it.
Matt's uncle, Calvin - United States Army Special Forces
and cousin, Jacob - United States Army (active duty)
My cousin, Tera, with her husband, Gregory - United States Marine Corps, Iraq
My beloved grandpa, and my namesake, Lee - United States Army Air Corps (now known as the US Air Force), World War II
My dad, Loran - United States Army, Vietnam
My uncle, Randy - United States Air Force, Vietnam
Matt's father, Ray, and wife Linda - United States Army, Kosovo
My brother-in-law, Tyler - United States Army, Afghanistan
My brother-in-law, Jay - United States Army, Iraq
I also want to honor my grandpa, Bryon, my sister, Kori, and my brother-in-law, Michael, for their service.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Four More Years...?
It doesn't matter for whom I voted. It doesn't matter if "my party" won or lost. It doesn't matter if I am in a red state or a blue state. At the end of this historic night, we all look up at the same set of stars, and we all live under the same flag. Right? I mean, that is true, right? Because if you are on social media, you wouldn't know that. The sounds of the Civil War of our history books has been replaced with the tippity-tap of fingertips on keyboards, and the buzz of smart phones. Everyone has an opinion, and everyone's opinion is right. Apparently, we have all lost our minds. At least, that's what Bahrain must be thinking.
Of course, you don't see Bahrain clicking away on their laptops or iPads about the President Elect that they did not approve of - they don't have the privilege of voting. They are just one of several maps on our globe that isn't blessed to have a say in their government. Perhaps some of the foul-mouthed sore losers on Facebook would prefer to live there?
I love Facebook, I really do. So much of my family is on Facebook. During military deployments, long-distance moves, and even family vacations, we use social media to share our adventures and pictures, stay on top of family matters, and just keep in touch. I love that. I love having just one more way to be involved in the lives of my nieces and nephews, and keep tabs on siblings. Even my grandma has a Facebook page. It's a wonderful tool. But it has really become a mine field in the last 45 minutes. I have never been so ashamed of some of my family and "friends" as I have tonight. I'm praying that what I see isn't true colors, but just outrage and fear, or even pure overwhelming joy. Some of the comments blow me away. Statuses that read "F*** you if you voted for Obama" and "If you voted for Obama, you are a huge ***hole". Seriously. And one of my favorite throw-backs from 2008, "I hope you're happy now that the Anti-Christ has risen again." Lest we forget the more subtle, "The Bible warned us about this." It's not one-sided though. You might like to know that "Obama wins. Romney supporters can suck it." And one of my favorites: "Knock-knock. Who's there? Obama, b**ches!!" Perhaps I am not as good a judge of character as I had hoped. It saddens me to think that people I had once held in such high esteem have lowered themselves to this. Four more years of this administration I can handle. Four more years of this kind of insensitive (and unnecessary) political banter, I'm not so sure I can.
There is no need to pollute such a wonderful blessing like Facebook (or Twitter, etc.) with unkind words, harsh (and untrue) phrases, and hateful and bitter accusations. It serves no purpose, and has no altering outcome - except that it will alienate us. After all, if your propaganda before the election did little to sway the vote, surely you understand that it has no bearing afterward, right?
Bottom line: My life has no room for negative energies. I can ill afford the every day struggles of motherhood, household management, and my own health, let alone adding the drama of a sore loser or an arrogant winner to the list. I need loving guidance of people who support me, pray for me, cheer me on, and encourage me in the way that I strive to do for them. I need for Facebook to stay one of those "safe places" where I can read a funny message from my sister, send a picture to my grandma, and read a joke posted by a high school classmate, without making me feel the same discomfort about the harsh place that the world just outside my doorstep seems to be. If you are one of these folks who is destroying Facebook and other social media for me, just know that you are on my "Fecal Roster" and I will discard you in the same way. (Actually, I'll just "unfriend" you, but that doesn't sound dramatic enough.)
Look, I don't much care to talk politics. I gave all the opinion I'm gonna give when I cast my ballot. But I will say this: we, as a nation, have spoken. We have elected a leader. We need to unite to support not the man, but the office to which he was elected. Regardless of how you feel when the polls close, he is and will continue to be our President and Commander in Chief. That office deserves respect. If you really don't like it, perhaps you can take refuge in someplace like Bahrain. You won't need to worry with liking or supporting the president there. And you won't need to bring your iPhone, either.
Of course, you don't see Bahrain clicking away on their laptops or iPads about the President Elect that they did not approve of - they don't have the privilege of voting. They are just one of several maps on our globe that isn't blessed to have a say in their government. Perhaps some of the foul-mouthed sore losers on Facebook would prefer to live there?
I love Facebook, I really do. So much of my family is on Facebook. During military deployments, long-distance moves, and even family vacations, we use social media to share our adventures and pictures, stay on top of family matters, and just keep in touch. I love that. I love having just one more way to be involved in the lives of my nieces and nephews, and keep tabs on siblings. Even my grandma has a Facebook page. It's a wonderful tool. But it has really become a mine field in the last 45 minutes. I have never been so ashamed of some of my family and "friends" as I have tonight. I'm praying that what I see isn't true colors, but just outrage and fear, or even pure overwhelming joy. Some of the comments blow me away. Statuses that read "F*** you if you voted for Obama" and "If you voted for Obama, you are a huge ***hole". Seriously. And one of my favorite throw-backs from 2008, "I hope you're happy now that the Anti-Christ has risen again." Lest we forget the more subtle, "The Bible warned us about this." It's not one-sided though. You might like to know that "Obama wins. Romney supporters can suck it." And one of my favorites: "Knock-knock. Who's there? Obama, b**ches!!" Perhaps I am not as good a judge of character as I had hoped. It saddens me to think that people I had once held in such high esteem have lowered themselves to this. Four more years of this administration I can handle. Four more years of this kind of insensitive (and unnecessary) political banter, I'm not so sure I can.
There is no need to pollute such a wonderful blessing like Facebook (or Twitter, etc.) with unkind words, harsh (and untrue) phrases, and hateful and bitter accusations. It serves no purpose, and has no altering outcome - except that it will alienate us. After all, if your propaganda before the election did little to sway the vote, surely you understand that it has no bearing afterward, right?
Bottom line: My life has no room for negative energies. I can ill afford the every day struggles of motherhood, household management, and my own health, let alone adding the drama of a sore loser or an arrogant winner to the list. I need loving guidance of people who support me, pray for me, cheer me on, and encourage me in the way that I strive to do for them. I need for Facebook to stay one of those "safe places" where I can read a funny message from my sister, send a picture to my grandma, and read a joke posted by a high school classmate, without making me feel the same discomfort about the harsh place that the world just outside my doorstep seems to be. If you are one of these folks who is destroying Facebook and other social media for me, just know that you are on my "Fecal Roster" and I will discard you in the same way. (Actually, I'll just "unfriend" you, but that doesn't sound dramatic enough.)
Look, I don't much care to talk politics. I gave all the opinion I'm gonna give when I cast my ballot. But I will say this: we, as a nation, have spoken. We have elected a leader. We need to unite to support not the man, but the office to which he was elected. Regardless of how you feel when the polls close, he is and will continue to be our President and Commander in Chief. That office deserves respect. If you really don't like it, perhaps you can take refuge in someplace like Bahrain. You won't need to worry with liking or supporting the president there. And you won't need to bring your iPhone, either.
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