Shortly after I began teaching, I joined the One Way Riders, which is a Christian motorcycle club in Vegas with a ministry throughout the valley. I joined the group through invitation by a student who belonged and thought I was cool enough to be part of their cadre. Among other things that we did, we fed the homeless each Friday around 5PM at the corner of Owens and Las Vegas Blvd, just north of the museum district but out of sight of the court house and most of the famous casinos. At that corner, you find a vacant lot which appears from the debris present to be a previous mobile home park, and it lies just north of a cemetery. For almost two years, we did this without incident or problem until one day about four years back, the owner of the property decided to call the cops on us to evict us from the site. On Christmas day last year, I went down to the area that morning to hand out brown bags to the homeless and found, to my shock and awe, that the corner is worse than before, and it angered me. The owner lied. It wasn't about development or the homeless or whatever. It seems to be all about driving us away.
We were removed by force. The police arrived, marched towards ME with their hands near their pistols, and then explained that we were no longer welcome on the property. Apparently, it was the One Way Riders who were not welcome. The homeless were not menaced, now that I recall, but the North Las Vegas Police remained until we packed our victuals, loaded in our vehicles, and vanished from sight. I realize that it is the right of a property owner to remove anyone. It was not what he did but the manner in which he acted that bothers me.
The owner never acted. I haven't been by the site since then until last Christmas, so I was understandably surprised to see just how little has changed at that intersection. However, there are now MORE homeless people there than I ever saw before. Their residence is no longer as tepid as before, the tent cities being in organized lines, so much that it tells me that the owner never actually started building anything on the site. Maybe he couldn't get permission or funding or changed his mind, but he went to the trouble to call the POLICE on us only to never actually follow through on his plan. Misappropriation of funds?
The homeless not only remained but expanded. I don't think I ever saw so many in one place in this town as there were Christmas Day. They were up and down every street, on every corner, in every bush, and then in organized and seemingly new tents on the vacant lot where we once not only fed their bellies but also attempted to nourish them spiritually. What once served as a trailer park is now a homeless encampment populated perhaps with more people than before, people who probably pay no rent whatsoever. I find this highly odd because most property owners want to make money, especially after the owner implied that he intended on a business venture to monetize the lot. I just don't understand why there are more of them and no other apparent changes.
From the evidence, it seems to me that the only people permanently evicted from the property were the Christian missionaries attempting to do good for the lost, the lonely, and the longing. The owner never apparently acted on his expressed claim to develop the land. The homeless were apparently not the problem since they are not only there but in greater numbers than ever before. The police viewed US as the pest, and I wonder if it was over religious differences rather than fiduciary, logistic, or legal ones. I am at a loss, and I am perturbed. As for the homeless, I am glad they have a place still to live. As for the police, they have always been there when they needed me. As for the owner, a plague of both his houses, and if this was bigoted, then may God have mercy on his soil.
My students tell me interesting and illuminating things. Sometimes I am glad to know, and sometimes I wish they wouldn't. In the midst of some praise after class, one of them told me that I had a scathing review from last semester that didn't make sense to her, because it sounded like some completely different professor, but no, it is for me, because nobody else here has my name. Mostly, I try to be the very best I can all the time. However, I am also mortal, and no matter how much I find it odd that we let students, who never have been professors, critique our work, it was a poor job, a poor showing. The criticisms usually describe differences in learning styles, personalities, and preferences, and in this case, this review essentially reflects the same thing- I didn't teach the way they preferred, I definitely deserve criticism. I taught the class for the wrong reason, and because I wasn't really excited about it, it showed in the quality and veracity of my work in the classroom, and I knew it. I was constantly aware, albeit subconsciously that something was wrong, but nobody seemed willing to tell me then or to my face; they're all too passive-aggressive for that.
I took that class last term for the worst reason possible- for the money. When I started teaching six years ago, I told myself that it was because it was something I desired to do. Most people do it because they must, because it's their job, because they don't know what else to do for a living, and I frequently appeared to most students to be actively engaged. Each time I took this class, microbiology, I did so with my own reservations. It's not really my strong suit, and although I turned down invitations to teach anatomy, I should have turned down this course too. My first time, I taught it on Saturday, to show I was a team player, to score points, and to hopefully secure myself a permanent post, but that failed. The second time, I took it because I was available, and because the bar was very low since the professor abandoned his load mid term to take a job elsewhere. By the fourth time, I was in a groove, doing it out of habit and for the money, and not because I truly wanted to, but this semester I decided to stop teaching classes I don't really enjoy. It will be better for everyone.
Whoever wrote it, I deserved the criticism. Although I don't agree with it carte blanc, the student was correct that it wasn't easy or probably worth while. What disturbs me was the manner of how the criticism came. I know that it came BEFORE the term ended, meaning that whoever this was sat there and smiled, having already roasted me on the internet. They said different things to my face than they said to the internet. I know that it's anonymous, which means that it was done because this student figured they would never actually have to man up and substantiate their claims. Most of the GOBNet who helped me get established is moved on, and so this mark will remain on my permanent internet record, unchallengeable, forever a critique of my merit while others gain favors due to connections. It didn't help anyone, because it came to my attention too late to be of any use. I can no longer reform my teaching and improve what they get, and they cannot benefit from it. So, you vented, but since it cannot any longer lead to any effort on my part to repair the breach, it essentially amounts to a libelous estimation. At best, someone else will teach the course, and maybe that person will do a better job, but none of these students will benefit, and I will bear the shame in perpetuity, hanging for a moment. I am human, and I make mistakes. Like you, I have good days and bad, good semesters and bad, but I cannot overwrite a bad course with a good one as they can because my work isn't represented by transcripts but by whether or not they hire me back, which they may not. If they have someone better, they should hire that person; what this person stole from me is the opportunity to BE better and affect their life directly.
Without the right motivation, my heart just wasn't in it, and I did a half-baked job. I love chemistry, and I love introductory classes. Sure, the first time I teach anything, there are complications and mistakes, but when I really enjoy what I'm doing, they can tell, and I think they learn better and more than if we're both just going through the motions as it were. There for the money, there to fill a slot rather than just doing my regular job, I didn't give 100% every night, and maybe I never gave 100%. I have a reputation, and I'm usually cool, but I don't like the book, the material, or the microbiology course here, so I know better than to get involved. It's why I steered clear of organic chemistry- I didn't want to do all that extra work for the same pay, and I'm not excited about it, and so I didn't do it. When you really care, you find a way, and when you don't, you find an excuse. I got paid, they got grades, and everyone "won" so to speak, but they were cheated out of the best things I have and the best ways I teach because it wasn't where I really belong. I took this class because someone else, someone inferior in my opinion, got the chemistry classes I desired, because of connections, and I wanted "my piece of the action" and took this as a consolation course. They could probably tell. Then again, so could I.
There is good news. I no longer intend to teach that class. I also no longer intend to teach classes just for the money. I've already been asked to teach a summer course, and I'm going to turn down the offer. I also recognize that I earned that review more than this student earned whatever grade they received. I am back teaching courses (mostly) this term where I already know I do a better job- to where I belong. The exception is a course I have never taught, and I think I'll do just fine the second time since I'm just a bit rusty explaining chemistry to non-majors. I forget what people don't already know sometimes. I learned I was correct to not teach pathophysiology, physics, or anatomy and physiology, not because I couldn't but because I'm not really interested in those (or I would know more about them) and because I shouldn't as long as someone who actually desires to teach those courses out of passion can be found to teach them. I don't want to rob them. I like my job, and I know that sometimes in our job we do things we don't really enjoy and for which we're not truly qualified, but having the option, I will not teach classes I don't really want to, regardless of the promised price. The price the students pay is far more than money, and sometimes the money I receive doesn't truly remunerate me for what their libel costs me.
It is said that every action has a consequence, that we reap what we sow. They sometimes talk too little about how to sow, what to sow, and why that sometimes results in a different harvest than we expect. As I planted seeds yesterday for my spring garden, I realized that I bought the wrong variety of something again, meaning that instead of green beans, I will have string beans if I plant these, which is not what I want. When you look at the packages of seeds, you trust that what they contain is accurate. However, some plants out back right now are going to seed because they aren't actually the type of radishes I expected. Rather than eat them, since I didn't expect them, I left them, unsure what to do. Then, there's the surprises in what appeared to be a bounteous harvest because I neglected the proper care and nurture of the garden. I have hundreds of beets. They are unfortunately all the size of a pea because they didn't get sufficiently thinned when young.
Sometimes, we are tricked into planting things we didn't actually want. I tell my students every term that each decision I would change is because the information on which I based my choice was either incomplete or inaccurate. When I went into science as a career, they told us we could earn $30,000 to $80,000/annum. What they didn't tell us is that those are average numbers, that most people earn near the bottom, and that the highest wages are not for science but for management. When I went to college, they told us that Biochemistry was the hot career, but when I graduated, the market was flush with unemployed biochemists from companies bought up for their patents and not for their personnel, and now most colleges don't even offer Biochemistry degrees. You make a choice, and you hope that the contents of the package actually match the packaging, but sometimes even if it's not maliciously minded, someone pulls a bait and switch, and instead of radishes you end up with horseradish. That's great if that's what you expected, but it's not what I expected, so it doesn't lead anywhere I planned to go. Even worse, sometimes in the middle of the night, some fiend breaches our field and sows tares among the wheat if we're lucky or burns down the garden completely while you sleep.
Each of us has a requisite responsibility to actualize the outcomes we hope. I detest those who believe in Jedi Mind Tricks, the Secret, the Power of Positive Thinking, as if all we need to do is think happy thoughts and whatever we wish will appear before us. As much as I love the garden, I know there is much to do to prune and dung and dig about the yard. I didn't thin the beets enough, so my beets have amazingly luscious greens but very tiny bulbs. The tomatoes drown out some of my herbs. The string beans nearly choked out other plants. I go out every day during the summer to water everything and make sure it's not only alive but thriving, but some things didn't get the attention they deserve. Too many people are "waiting on the world to change" and too many others are changing it in ways that won't lead to the world they claim they desire. I watched four people right in front of me buy groceries with food stamps, all of whom were smartly dressed, and although their lives are probably peachy, it's not creating the right kind of world.
During Sunday School today, I reminded my class that people find a way to achieve what they truly desire. If you want to harvest pumpkins, you must plant pumpkins. I don't care how much "positive thinking" you do, you can't will a pumpkin seed to bear watermelon as its fruit. If you want something, you find a way; if not, you find an excuse. You must be sure that what you plant leads to the end that you desire. Cauliflower is not steak; cows do not give pork; your garden watermelon will not look like those in the store. God plants good seeds in us, but because of sin, He mostly seems to harvest lemons. On top of that, we're very pessimistic about it, unjustly ascribing things to Him while we ignore that there are things exigent to our control. Other people are free to plant what they like, work on their gardens as they like, and grow things we happen to dislike. They have agency too, but all too often we blame God for not forcing them to grow things that validate us. If we don't remove the weeds from our garden, they may choke out our crops, and if our neighbors don't remove their weeds, they may seed into our lives and choke out our substance as well.
My garden provides both sustenance for my life as well as lessons about life. I never thought as a college student that I'd think and talk so much about the pastoral, but as a plant scientist, I realized that everything begins in the Garden. God planted us there, tried to teach us, and then when we learned how to do things God knew put His garden at risk, He cast us out until we learned enough to return to His presence without wrecking it. Our lives teach us the necessity of work, the prescience of planning, the relationships between cause and effect, and the sweetness of the harvest. We reap what we sow. We sow what we truly desire, we nurture what we want to bear fruit, and we learn to recognize the weeds or foreign seeds from the ones we actually want to keep. I am learning in my garden what God needs me to know in order to be of use in His garden. I am sure there will be more lessons, but for today, this is an early spring.
If you come here frequently, you probably noticed that I seemed to stop writing for about a month. The articles I started during that period but never finished will appear soon, because I actually ended up having pneumonia for the last several weeks but didn't know it. I've been exhausted, congested, shivering from cold when it's nice in the house, itchy all over, feverish, vomited, and sore all over all the time. It was bad enough that I spent all day last Saturday at home and barely make it home each day to collapse in my bed at night. At least I sleep well, but I think it's because I pass out from exhaustion. Sometimes we don't take things seriously enough, and so I'm slugging through each day barely making it because my body just can't keep fighting while I do everything else. However, they do matter, either because in quantity they add up to something weighty or because they are weighty in their own right. Finally, some small things we take for granted, but when we lose them it creates other and sometimes bigger problems.
Simple habits can keep dangerous risks small. I've never had pneumonia before, but I'm not really surprised I got it. You see, I spend a lot more time than most people in places where I'm likely to catch disease. When I'm minding my own business, I'm out walking every morning and evening, regardless of weather, and I'm more likely to catch something during those times because my body is weak against exposure. I also spend a lot more time than most people talking to, standing near, and working with the indigent. When we go feed them, since I didn't actually prepare any food, I usually end up going down the line either handing out socks or talking to them about religious topics, meaning I get a lot more face time than those who serve the food. They're no better about covering their mouths than children, and so I bet money I caught it from some homeless dude. No good deed goes unpunished, right?
It's always the little things that matter. The bacteria that cause pneumonia are 1 millionth of a meter in length, so small that even if you could see them your brain would ignore them, and yet they brought me low to my bed for weeks. Seemingly unimportant decisions, innocent deviations, and any time we are off by a few degrees, things end up far from where we hoped. Yet, I know that I honestly do my best, and if I had to be perfect for it to work, then there was no point trying. Today, it is just the little things, but when you put enough little things together, their total sum is enough to bring down something far mightier. What began with maybe 100 bacilli blossomed into a million within days and probably ended up killing millions of my own cells before it ends. A few torn fibers, a few innocent flirts, a few items purloined perniciously, and pretty soon we're paying for our choices in ways we don't realize because we don't realize how many things added up to earn us our plight. For this reason, I try not to deviate from my rules. I keep them because they keep me. Lots of small bacteria combined made a huge impact on my life, and small habits could have prevented their entrance methinks if I'd taken them more seriously.
Ever since teaching in grad school, I've distrusted doctors, so I only went to see one because I had another reason that was less urgent. Sometimes we belittle things that we ought not. It seems a little thing to admit you need help, to get a regular checkup, and although I'm not going to probably change all that much, I am now on a regimen to get better, especially since I lost my voice several days ago, right about when I went to the doctor. So, I slug on, point at things, sigh a lot, and probably make people think I'm a jerk when I don't answer, but I really can't. We rely so much on speech, on affectation, and I can only communicate so well with typed words. You really only appreciate what you have when it's taken from you. I became so used to my habits, my routine, and the use of my limbs and faculties that it was tough some days to just lie there and do nothing, realizing that the work of the day was to get well, get rest, and get repaired. If I had insisted on hiking or running or leaving my house, at the very least I prolong my own suffering and possibly risk introducing it to others.
At the end of the day, it's always the little things. People remember the little things. When people ignore the little things, they often blow out of proportion. What seems little to you adds up to a big deal. Small lies evince lack of integrity eventually. Small fines deplete your account eventually. Small gestures endear you to others eventually. Simple habits create great change, for good or ill. For now, I feel small. I know that I am dumb for I cannot speak. It's amazing how much small and simple things change your world.
A interested albeit unaffected member of my Faith who works for the Dean as his secretary called me just before Christmas to give me advice. She maintains that my problem lies in my attitude, essentially that my problem is that I am cynical and pessimistic. She asked me to fast and pray last weekend, which I did, but rather than come to see her point of view, God pointed out a different commonality betwixt the events of my life and their outcome. Yes, God isn't happy with my attitude, but He understands why I feel that way, and so would you if you knew all the details. In the end, as I considered and prayed and thought, it dawned on me that the common theme in my life that keeps creating problems for me is not my attitude but my religion. It keeps me from basic psychological fulfillment. It interferes with basic relationships with women and even conspires to rob me of fellowship with fellow congregants. They mean well, and many of them are good people; they have no problem with the message, just with the messenger. Should I be surprised? Not really. After all, Jesus taught that a prophet has no honour in his own country, and I think I understand that.
Human happiness finds its foundation in a few fundamental facets. Maslow published the summary pyramid of human needs depicted below, and in truth, I know that many of them already exist in my life. A few key pieces, keystones if you will, fail, leaving the superstructure weak and undermining the value of other superior truths that I enjoy because something below them remains unsatisfied. Years ago, the State of Nevada wrote me up as a "health risk" because I wasn't sexually active. I complained to them that they should be rewarding me for eschewing "risky behaviors", but from this point of view depicted I understand. There are physiological and psychological benefits associated with it, assuming of course that it's a healthy relationship, which in most cases I think is assumed by words without knowledge.
In fact, my hiking buddy maintains that intimacy exigent to my principles will cause more problems than it solves. He thinks the only thing that would actually help, and the only thing I truly lack, is a partner. People like to say that my attitude is why I appear to be less happy and successful than I am. However, when you look at this pyramid, the real reason, according to Maslow, is that a significant portion of the center section of my pyramid is absent, leaving a shaky foundation for the best parts of me. Additionally, because I emphasize the top level so much, one element of the bottom-most rung is completely absent, related to the third tier, which undermines the entire thing. However, I cannot maintain my sense of morality while concomitantly meeting the absent need, setting me up for a no-win scenario. I can sacrifice my morality to satisfy my physiology or I can sacrifice my physiology in order to satiate my morality, either one of which leaves me still without complete self-actualization. Many people change their morality in order to reach "transcendence". In other words, they change their own dogma so that the way they live fulfills their needs rather than living in a good way and expecting their needs to be filled by living well. Replacing one part of the foundation with another does not make a more complete foundation. It only makes it incomplete in a different way. Redefining the terms to make the pyramid conform to your preconceived notions does not make you a full person; it leaves you bereft in a different fashion.
It cost me almost every relationship ever to stick to the morality espoused by my Faith. In fact, at least 90% of the potentially intimate relationships I could have with women but that never materialized were curtailed in some way by the fact that I intend to actually adhere to the tenants of my Faith. Many women conclude that because I do not kiss them or take them to bed on the first date I do not actually like them. Others enjoy my company but refuse to pick me because of the Faith to which I belong. My late friend Tracie told me "you'd be perfect if not for your religion". If not for my religion, I'd be someone else, meaning that she essentially said, "You'd be perfect if you were someone else" which is just asinine. Since then, other women outside my Faith repeated the chorus. A student Spring 2014 came to visit me frequently to talk about the material. After her questions, we usually ended up talking for some time, during which she would always excoriate my Faith. Eventually I told her I was a member of that Faith, and she never came to see me again. A coworker told me last week that this girl probably liked me but couldn't see herself with a member of my Faith, ergo she stopped coming to see me. Summer 2015, one of the girls in the gym told me one day, "It's a good thing you're not a member of X faith, because we would suffer terrible things". I wrote it down, I was so shocked. She didn't even know that she was a bigot. These people probably pride themselves on their "tolerance" of other ideas, but when you get right down to it, my problem always has been my religion. Even inside my Faith, they shy away from me. When they find out I've been divorced, they stop talking to me in many cases, and the ones who do keep talking to me are those who don't live the tenants of the Faith. Why would I want to marry someone who is only a member on paper? Of course, that's my fault, and they lash out at me because I'm wrong because I stand on principle. It is not love to alienate someone from their God. It's selfishness. Other women pick other men with fancier cars, loftier titles, and fatter paychecks and ignore me because I choose frugality, self-reliance, and preparedness. In essence, they discount me because of tenants taught by the Faith. On top of that, I have actually been told that I belong to a religion that is evil, intolerant, false and misguided. It makes me feel like they consider me a beast. Many women discount me from the start because of my Faith. Some others reassure me that it will not dissuade them that I am a member of a particular Faith until interested albeit uninspired persons who ostensibly love them convince them to abandon me because I confess that particular Faith, and they choose a different path. It hurts. I know they probably didn't intend to hurt me. I am hurt by their loss all the same. Even members of my own Faith look down on me because I haven't held priesthood office, because I am not wealthy, because I have a beard, or for any other number of trivialities and choose other men, all the while claiming they desire a great husband and father. Their choice of men for other reasons shows me that they choose self-validation. Some of them ought to be picking me in order to 'fix' or heal me, but the only way to really "heal" me is not to change my attitude, my Faith, or my morality. It will require a WOW woman to come along, see the royal within me, and actually keep the promises she makes and show by so doing that she values what I believe and that my Faith hath made me whole.
My religion is also a problem within my own religion. When I first moved to Vegas, my bishop, who was a bully, tried to badger me into taking an assignment. All I asked was the opportunity to pray about it myself and learn that it was God's will. I assume it was his projection, because rather than grant me that, he immediately began to exercise unrighteous dominion and wrest the scriptures with me. I won the exchange, to his great embarrassment, only because I knew the scriptures better than most people he spiritually accosted, and because I turned to a verse he did not know and shut him down. Although our exchange isn't public, he has never forgiven me for that embarrassing defeat and probably used his influence to curtail my professional and financial progress in this profession. It's not just the leadership from whom I face marginalization. Many members assume deficiencies because I am different. Nothing smacks of shame so much in my Faith as to be single and over 30. They assume that somehow I wasn't as valiant or faithful or whatever when in reality they probably just got lucky. In fact, most of the people who tell me they are well matched admit to me that they got lucky. However, the appearance is that THEY did everything right, and I cucked it all up somehow. Women of my Faith look at me as that creepy old guy or wonder what's wrong with me that I didn't already marry. Until they know better, most people just assume that I haven't married for some character flaw on my part, and then when they learn I was married before all too often unjustly ascribe blame to me. It makes sense in some respect but not in my particular case. Having been divorced, I am relegated to a second-class status in the Faith. I am not complaining about this, please understand that. The policy states that a person such as myself who was married in the Faith and who is now divorced is not eligible for leadership or certain other responsibilities until I remarry within the Faith. That's just how it is. I'm not sore about that. In fact, I use it to my advantage knowing they can't make me responsible to actuate my ideas because I'm ineligible for certain positions. However, it means a newly ordained member of the priesthood automatically outranks me and has more authority than I do even if he's 18 years old. That marriage in part accounts for my attitude about things. Now, I am acutely aware of hypocrisy in the Faith and outspoken against it. When those ugly moments arise, I speak out. Knowing that I cannot possibly be marginalized much more than I already am, I took a page from Martin Luther's book and speak out against malversation of every form at every level, against editorials masquerading as facts, and against the wicked traditions of our fathers. It makes me very unpopular to ask what the priesthood purpose of each activity is and to tell people they are wrong, but I don't get anything out of it. I cannot be promoted or rewarded or validated except that their misapprehensions vanish. There is nothing in it for me. I will not be more powerful or promoted or rewarded. I'm barely even a member as it is. (Again, if the Brethren read this, I am not complaining; I'm explaining. I understand the policies and accept them as they are until you decide to change them or explain to me if I misinterpreted the edicts. I know my place.)
I have many problems, and I need the Savior just as much as the next man. Contrary however to the assertions of many women who mean well, I think they miss the mark a bit by assuming that the fault lies entirely with me. At least in some cases with some people on some topics and to some degree, the problem is my religion, not that my religion is the problem, but that living what I believe costs me the other things. I cannot compromise some things without compromising who I actually am, and it is not love to require me to alienate me from my God in order to prove that I love someone else. If I abandon my God, how can I possibly love another mortal? It's a complete catch-22. My religion cannot reward me for valiance until I remarry in the Faith. Members of my Faith who are eligible and available for marriage assume that I am unfit, and women of other faiths refuse to date me because of the Faith I profess. No more convenient scapegoat exists, and no less fitting of an excuse exists on which to ladle all blame into my lap. I'm really trying, so how could I possibly be the problem? Ironically enough, many of these people are fine with me until they learn the identity of the Faith to which I subscribe and then all their experiences with me personally mean nothing when weighed against their preconceived biases. The Kobiashi Maru is ultimately a test of character. The no-win scenario doesn't usually reward you. It asks you to prove who the best you, the real you, really is. It washes away illusions. It reveals truth. The people I meet ought to laud and venerate me for sticking to my principles; instead they find other people with whom to associate. This also teaches me about them. It reinforces my belief that if you really care you will find a way and if you don't you will find an excuse. My religion is an excuse. It is a foil, but it has foiled so many of my efforts in my life to be a neighbor, a friend, a husband, a lover, and a leader, because other people don't like it. It saddens me, but it will not dissuade me. This is where I am; this is where I will stay; I will not be moved. I will die doing what I know is right. I know my place. It is time you found yours.
Most of my friends are of other Faiths, and most of my coworkers, since they are scientists, are men of measurements. Consequently, they find it odd, archaic, and foolish that I believe in God and try to live according to His commandments. Having read earlier this month a list of the top 10 Christmas movies, I persuaded my parents to watch The Santa Clause. I know that my pagan and agnostic friends tolerate Christmas because of the gifts or because we "coopted" their solstace, but Santa is a great ensign for and symbol of Christ. I know that most of the people I know no longer believe in miracles, in magic, in God, in faith, and in hope. Sure, they believe in "the think system" and "the power of positive thinking", but all too often they don't believe it until and unless they see it work. Well, that's not faith or belief; when you see a thing, you know it. I have never seen Santa, but I have seen what He does. I have spent a great portion of my life acting on and exemplifying God's will in order to be part of His miracles. I have seen magical things happen, mostly for others, and I know that something, someone else made this happen. I believe in Santa. I believe in Christ.
Kids don't need to see the workshop to know it's there. Far too many adults, particularly scientists, insist on seeing something in order to believe in it, which is funny since there are things we can't actually see like quarks and black holes, but we know they exist because we feel and see their influence. Those same people who can't see their own brains, their own DNA, etc., see God's influence and then either explain it away or unjustly ascribe it to something else. Have you ever seen a reindeer fly? Have you ever actually been to China? How do you know these things? Because people you trust told you that they are so. I have never seen God, but I have seen things He promise happen. I have spoken with people I trust and read the testimonies of men I trust who are long dead who went to their graves believing in God, and so I believe it. I don't have to meet a prophet or see a miracle or touch the wounds in Christ's palms to know that He exists. I feel it. I believe in God as I believe in the noonday sun- not that I see it but that by it I see everything. I know it's hard to believe in magic, in miracles, in a God. I keep wondering when, or if, He will decide to grant me the desires of my heart. I hope He still will, but if not, that will not lead me to dismiss God. Unlike Judge Reinhold, I'm not willing to surrender that over something as tawdry as a wienie whistle. It is actually childish to dismiss God when He doesn't do what you like.
Careful attention to the fine print tells us the terms and conditions of faith. Tim Allen is obligated to act in the capacity of Santa Claus when he puts on the suit, and in subsequent installments he spends time meeting the other terms. However, there is a reward for this effort, and as the movie proceeds, he gains much in return for his sacrifices. He gains insight into the lives of other people and knows who is "naughty or nice"; similarly, we gain an ability by following and learning about God to discern between wise and otherwise, truth and error, and pain and joy. He spends his time bringing joy to children, in particular his own. Likewise, God gets great joy from blessing and bringing good things to His children. Tim brings ZERO coal. He only brings good things. Finally, TIm gets to spend his entire life without worrying about the normal cares of mortality, working instead to bring joy to other people. He doesn't have to worry about a job, healthcare, food (since children all feed him at their houses), fireplaces (since he has a fireproof suit), or injury (after Comet gives him a safety rope). He who loses his life for God's sake truly shall find it. I will confess that, like Tim Allen, sometimes I don't notice or understand the terms, and sometimes i'm not very good at meeting them. I feel pressed to meet them, overwhelmed at times by what God expects, and disappointed when I don't see what He promises the obedient, particularly when the wicked luxuriate, but that doesn't release me from my obligation. I put on this suit, and I will do my best to bring honour to Christ's name and trust that He will keep His end of the contract too.
Santa's mission is to make magic happen during what was once the least hospitable time of year for the Christian world- winter. Millions of children are counting on Santa to bring good things into their lives. Yes, the characters found reason to disbelieve in Santa Claus as they grew older, grew disappointed, and didn't get what they demanded. Similarly, many adults lose faith in God as they grow older, get disappointed when God fails to follow their commandments even while they flagrantly defy His. His first year, there is a girl concerned with his looks but who pays attention to what he says and provides milk for the lactose intolerant so that Santa will want to return. After they arrest Tim Allen for B&E at his exwife's house, kids are totally apoplectic that Santa has been arrested. At the park, children line up to talk to him. Everywhere he goes, he thinks about the things he can do for others. He's only concerned about making children, particularly his son, happy. I have seen some miracles; they may not seem large to you, but some of them are huge to me. Over six years ago, He freed me from my ex wife. He didn't transform my staff into a snake, cause flaming hail to fall from the sky or plague her house with frogs, but He did inspire my attorney to give me advice, provided the money to pay her off, and made sure my path was clear afterwards to head to a land of promise. I must still be in Sinai, but even there, He has fed me and watered me and provided for me. Yeah, I'm not rich, and I'm not even dating anyone or aware of anyone I'm even interested in dating, but I am free, and I have hope for a better future. Yes, I have been disappointed, but that's because of OTHER PEOPLE who decided to do what they felt was best for them. God doesn't mess with free will, and so the only things I lack I either don't care to obtain or depend on other people exercising their agency. That's not on Santa or God; it's on bosses who won't promote me, agencies who won't hire me, women who won't partner with me, neighbors who won't cooperate with me, and people who have no interest in making my lie easier. All too often, we miss miracles because we expect something big. Judge Reinholdt threw away his faith in Santa for a wienie whistle.
Believing is seeing. We rely too much on our eyes. How do we know we can trust them? No other creature sees the world the way we do. The ant, unable to contact us, might just as well conclude we do not exist because we didn't respond to known pheromone trails, the whale, because we couldn't respond to or join in his song, as humans conclude that Santa and God do not exist because they fail to deliver on their demands on some arbitrary December Day. There are miracles all around you. How do we know that a person in a lab coat is reliable? Scientists lie too (look up the Dutch Lord of the Data). If your parents lied about Santa, are you justified in concluding everything they told you is a lie? People think that I am cynical, untrustworthy, but then they go out and prove themselves often even moreso when they discount their experiences, their hearts, their gut, their elders, and other influences that teach them to believe in something bigger than themselves unless it's something they can see or touch. That's not logical. It's just as much a reducto ad absurdium then to conclude that unless a particular person does a particular thing by an arbitrary date it will never happen or that they never will. Sometimes things beyond out control happen. Judge Reinholdt got his wienie whistle, just not when he was three. Tim Allen got to lead a better life. Eventually the truth comes out and validates the faith of believers everywhere. I love Christmas and Santa because, if you want to see it this way, it evinces that all the things we hope and believe as part of our Faith can and will come to pass someday, somehow, and in some good fashion. Believe, and if you cannot believe, at least desire to believe, and let that work in you until you can remember what it was like to enjoy Christmas as a child. Remember when anything was possible because of a man you never saw who brought gifts for which you probably weren't nice enough and who did it because it pleased him so to do. That's the Christ to a T.
As is common this time of year, I, like most of you, think about endings. Today, the countdowns to Christmas end, because it's here. Soon, the year will end. We think about good Christmases, good times, how much more fun and meaning it had for us as children and how much we miss that. Sometimes we also think about how we can be the ending to making the world a better place. While the secularists sing about it and people prattle their personal theories, while the pagans delight in the fact that it's actually "their" holiday, the principles of Christmas are still compatible with and enhancing to Christianity, and it is on those ends that Christmas and Christ bear the most weight. We have faith that because of Christ, because of God's love made manifest through His son's birth, sacrifice and death that things in the universe will all unfold as they ought. Our Faith binds us together in a vision for the future, teaches us to rely on a power higher than ourselves and explains certain facets of the plan so that we can measure whether we're still on track. What the world needs, and what the world gets each Christmas time, at least for a while, is a little more love, a little more faith, and a little more evidence that maybe things will work out alright in the end.
Christians ought to all share a faith in a better world. We're not living for or happy with the world as it is, and sometimes we get caught up in the notion that we must somehow make things better. The best thing is to be the best you that you can be and not worry too much about whether or not your particular paltry participation pivots the world to where it ought to be. Even my less religious friends, and theologians of other persuasions who channel method and rest on scientific measurement do this. They forget that faith is different from knowledge. Knowledge isn't the end; it is one path to enlightenment. The great logician of fiction, Spock, taught us that the universe will unfold as it should in this oft forgotten reference:
We have faith that the universe will unfold as it should. We do our part and rest on that, not because our best is amazing but because through Christ all things will be made right. Through God's plan and love, every mistake, every feeble effort is transformed into something perfect by the merits, grace, and mercy of God and His Christ. I still believe that God's will will be done, it will be done well, and it will be done on time. I still believe that what should be will be when the time is right.
Fidelity to our principles requires us to practice both virtues of serenity and submissiveness. This differs widely from pessimism or distance. It still invites and requires us to act, just teaches us to detach our emotions from a particular personal and present outcome. Emotion usually occurs when outcomes differ from expectations, and so perhaps that's why humans are so emotionally distraught, particularly around the holidays as we all realize this year wasn't quite what we hoped a year ago. I mean, even I reread some of my posts from a year hence, and I'm disappointed that this year was only quiet and not awesome like I hoped. Now, I'm glad that it was quiet, because the alternative is unpleasant, but I'm still disappointed. However, these last few months, I think I've latched onto the reason why it's no longer as traumatic what I lost in Summer 2013. Serenity and submissiveness to God's will usually come concomitant with age/maturity. Some older people never seem to acquire this, and some younger people already have. Eventually, as time marches on, as your perspective and understanding change, and as new things happen in your life, you discover things and people that just aren't that important anymore. You don't take time to worry about them because worrying about them never helped. If they are right, they will happen on their own. This doesn't mean you do nothing. You do what is right and let the consequence follow. Accept that you cannot force them, that you cannot change them, that they are also free to choose their own adventure just as you claim the right. Reaching this stage is difficult. One must give up one's desire, need, and efforts to control things around one and focus on controlling oneself. That's not reassuring, rewarding, or empowering, so we try to control other things, but all we can really change is ourselves. The serenity prayer makes reference to wisdom, which usually only comes with experience. Try not to be too hard on, critical of, or impatient with people around you who have yet to develop any degree of these traits. Those who insist on a "think system" or the power of positive thinking or attitude keep missing the mark because all of these ideas are built upon the notion that you can control things that you can only influence. They do not work because they ignore agency; they preach that you can force and tempt people to virtue, which simply is not so. It is a childish notion. Each of us grows at a different rate, and each of us experiences different things, including the same things different ways. Consequently, each person's ability to reach proper submissiveness to the will, timing, and mercy of the Almighty varies widely just as each of us vary widely in our penchants, personalities, and propensities. Perhaps for this reason, it is usually the more mature among us who consistently and efficiently reach a stage of serenity. Sure, we learn the serenity prayer as children, but we don't usually practice it very well until we have experience enough to recognize the wisdom of that utterance and act accordingly.
Trust that there is a plan. Any strategist tells you that the only thing you can be sure of when YOU plan is that something will not go according to plan. Ergo, you need many iterations, Plan B, plan C, all the way to Plan M if need be, because of contingencies and things you cannot expect because OTHER PEOPLE are agents to act for themselves and are people actuating their own plans. Just because your plan fails or because the things for which you plan fail to materialize doesn't mean that things will never work out for you. We look back at achievements in history and see how it happened, but rarely do we know about all the false starts, the dead ends, and the setbacks suffered before people arrived at the end for which they strove. We like to think we know the plan, that we can rush the plan and that we can force the plan, that we can force people, or the planet, or even the universe to bend to our will. We like to rush things because we don't know how much time we have, and we don't want to be very close when we die or the lifetime of an opportunity expires. However, history and literature are replete with warnings to the contrary. Avoid haste and rush, it leads to accidents, mistakes, and injury to the body and soul. You rush a miracle, and you get rotten miracles. If you try to force it, usually you get cut. This is why force doesn't really work, why you can't really control others. You might seem able to control their behaviors, or at least the ones you desire or see, but eventually people do rise up and rebel. It's not just the American revolution, but teenagers who rebel, Amish who go wilding, slaves who revolt, and every oppression is overturned. In tyranny lies only ultimately failure. Try not to rush it, to force it, and what is right will be when it's time. I know most people who prattle this have "arrived" at their Land of Promise. I have not. I still believe that God has a plan.
I like to think that one day, and hopefully soon, it will be God's great mercy and love to allow what I plan to materialize. I am also mature enough to recognize that I'm not the only player, the only perspective, and the only prospect. Sometimes, if I got what I wanted, it would deny other people their desires, and I do not desire to be selfish and deny others their own happiness. I know that sometimes other people decide not to play and that other people will cheat to win. I know that ultimately cheaters don't really win and that most of the time when you hurry you end up with something only half baked. In God's good time, He will provide what is best for me. I don't know what it is. I only know what I hope it is. Wherever you are, whenever it's right, you'll come out of nowhere and into my life. Yeah, I know what I would like, but I also know that there are other things I ought to like and other things that other people like. It doesn't make them wrong; it makes them different, and variety is often a good thing. How blase would the world be if we all liked the same things for the same reasons? Blech! Things do get better, they already have improved, maybe not in every facet or for you per se or with the speed and to the degree that you like, but they will. There will be a better world, or at the very least tomorrow there is a chance for you to make your world better. Only after you focus on what you can control can you reach true peace and happiness through serenity and submissiveness to God's will. You improve yourself, and that improves your prospects eventually, because it puts you in better places with better people and better prospects. Nothing is guaranteed but opportunity, but the opportunities come as you improve your own lot. Then, you trust that, even if you only know part of the plan that THERE IS A PLAN. You are part of something amazing. God sent His son to suffer, die, and rise again to life YOU up to a better world. I don't know what the plan is all the time, but I do get to know the parts of the plan that are mine to handle and actuate for right now. Sometimes, the plans change, but the objectives remain the same. The universe will unfold as it ought. When, how, for whom? I cannot say, but at Christmas, my hope is renewed that for me there is a better tomorrow, a Land of Promise, a Geautiful Birl, and satisfaction of soul as I hope for, remain true to, and work to do the best I can to be a positive force in what will ultimately happen with or without my help. May God bless us, every one. Merry Christmas.
I tell my students that chemistry has its ancient origins in efforts to enrich the lives of those who practiced it. Alchemy, one of the earliest true forms of chemistry, involved a series of reactions with chemical reagents in an effort to turn lead into gold. We're all interested in enriching ourselves, in finding a golden ticket, a golden opportunity, or a golden investigator. We all want our lives to have meaning and make things better for the people around us, particularly people we love. Naturally and consequently when they choose to be something else, to take a different path, to practice the paradigm of the prodigal, it weighs us down that what could be gold remains as lead. However, for those who truly believe in, work for, and try to live like Christ, the promise remains and reminds us that Christ will pick up His jewels. We don't know how to truly help people sometimes, and sometimes we do things with ulterior motives. It's very difficult to be altruistic and objective, especially when we're emotionally involved in a particular outcome. We're also impatient, hoping to see the rewards of our efforts, to take glory unto ourselves, and to reap what we sow. We are part of the miracle, but only part. God's will will be done, it will be done well, and it will be done on time, His time, in His season.
Usually gold becomes lead because we're either using techniques that don't work or materials that cannot lead lead to gold. What alchemists don't understand is that the techniques available to them could never turn lead into gold because they lacked sufficient energy to make those changes. Often we try to apply the adversary's methods thinking they can achieve the Father's plan. As previously written, only virtuous means can really lead to virtuous ends. If you force or trick someone into doing what is right, it might do you for a spell, but even if it sticks it may be a cursed life, a half life, that eventually degrades in a burst of matter and energy that lays waste to the golden life you think you created. Additionally, if you don't actually start with lead, the techniques that turn lead into gold will turn whatever else you have into something else, perhaps something worse, but definitely something other than what you intended. In chemistry we apply certain techniques, protocols, and reactions because they are the most likely to succeed. Even then, as students can attest, we never get 100% yield. I don't think it's possible. It's certainly not likely, and so even if you do everything perfectly, forces beyond your understanding or control often conspire to produce something else. My first "investigator" in Austria, Aniko Kittle, illustrated this principle. My trainer and I spent a great deal of time with Aniko "teaching" her, which was really an excuse to not visit other people. When Elder Wagstaff discovered I stopped visiting Aniko, he was furious, but I knew that she was spending time with us because she was lonely. Aniko's husband had left her with two little children, and Bishop Warosh's wife took them under her wing, but she wasn't friendly with the church to join it; she was friendly to benefit from the friendship and generosity of the members. Aniko's lead wasn't going to turn to gold by the normal methods, and so I knew it wasn't wise to continue to hope those reactions would work. Chemistry is not personal; it's about the method, about the preferences of the universe which follows the law and has no interest in what you desire unless you set the stage for that correctly.
Often, gold becomes leaden when we're emotionally involved in the outcome. Sunday, a young woman reported on her missionary service in Bolivia. Apparently Bolivia is rich with golden people and golden opportunities, and she spoke glowingly about her experiences and her great frequency of success there inviting people to come to Christ and improve their lives. After the meeting, Tom, who returned recently from Russia asked me if his experience was a lie since his was greatly different from hers. I told him that I only had one golden opportunity as a missionary, and that's probably why I remember her name. Daniella Palaora, who lived on Beda-Weber Gasse in Innsbruck, Austria, approached ME at the street display on Mueseumstrasse, to ask me how she could help her children know about God and His love for them. She was textbook golden- read everything, prayed immediately, came to church, met with members, and agreed to be baptised. Only ten days after meeting her, her husband stepped in and forbade us from any further interaction with her. I took it better than Elder Graham and Elder Husz, because I wasn't emotionally involved in the outcome, having only spoken with Daniella once, but I remember her name because it was a powerful and rare experience. In 2013, when a woman for whom I really cared rebuffed my affections and cut me out of her life, I understood how those other missionaries must have felt to lose access to Daniella, because I was emotionally involved. A golden opportunity became leaden because a male family member protracted a slanderous and libelous campaign against my Faith and cut us off. I felt weighed down, impoverished, and disappointed. My golden opportunity failed to enrich my life or hers, and in the end I think everyone lost at least for now, and it hurts.
Sometimes lead turns into gold only after forces beyond your control act and at a time long after you leave the lab. We are poor players who strut and fret our hour on stage only to largely amount to nothing. My first speaking role in a play was as the First Servant in Julius Caesar, who has one line, and who dies after making his stand to Caesar. Of course, Caesar discovers he was right, but too late to save the First Servant from death. My first real investigator that I found in Austria, Ursula Huber, lived on Bahnhofgasse in Neumarkt am Wallersee. Ten years before meeting us, she recounted, God told her to speak with two missionaries she saw walking in Salzburg who disappeared around a corner to never be seen again. Then, I walked into her dry cleaner one Wednesday to have my suit cleaned, and she decided it was time to talk to us. Despite the great amount of work done by God to prepare her heart and mind, she still reticently resisted our invitations to repent and be baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ. Eventually, I told her that we needed to spend time looking for people who were prepared to align their lives to God's will and that I would not visit her as much so that we would be available to find those people. Two weeks later, I was transferred to Hall in Tirol, and six months later Ursula finally consented to follow the promptings and accept God's commands. When I saw her last, soon after her baptism, I told her that obviously God needed to send someone else, because I was out of ideas, and because that jolted her to act. Sure, we hope to be present for and participant in the miracle, and we know it will enrich our lives, but since it's also about enriching THEIR lives, does it really matter who gets the credit and when it happens so long as it happens? I am happy for her and for my companion Elder Lutter who got to baptize the very first person he EVER taught as a missionary, and the Salzburg-Flachgau ward was overjoyed to have her, but it happened long after I was gone and after other things happened that I could not achieve. No matter how golden an opportunity may be, sometimes it takes time and patience and forces beyond our poor power to add or detract in order to finish the process and bring forth gold from the din of a life and make things richer.
I have seen all too many golden opportunities turn into lead, and I have seen all too much lead decide to stay that way, and it hurts. An old friend from High School told me once that she felt I had the propensity to see people as they could be, their best selves, and then take it personally when they decide, at least for now, to be something other than rise to their full potential. Just because lead isn't gold yet doesn't mean it won't be one day. Just because it didn't enrich me doesn't mean it won't enrich them that I came to try to react upon their lives and change things for the better. It isn't about me; it's about the leaden soul becoming golden through the Atonement of Christ. As we think of Christmas, and of God's Christ, that's the miracle. No matter how dark or dense or heavy the lead may weigh down your soul, Christ has the power to turn any leaden life into a golden one, to make rich what once seemed worthless and give value to your life. He can do things I never could because He acts in better ways and over a longer period than I can. As a missionary, I was only there for a season and able to do only so much. The Great Alchemist can make anything worthless and heavy into anything valuable and uplifting. Sometimes I wonder why He asks me to do anything. I feel like Miracle Max, afraid I might kill whomever He asks me to make a miracle. However, this is the Christmas season, His season, the time of year when we remind ourselves of that thrill of hope as the weary world rejoices, that prodigals can return, and that everyone can be made bright, even if we feel we have no gifts to bring parum-pa-pa-pum fit to set before the King. How great the importance to make these things known unto all the world that He will make intercession for ALL the children of men, that Christ can make golden anything weighed down by the lead of the world. He can even rescue you from Egypt. Even lead can be led.
In the information age, it's easy to get information about some people without their knowing you did so. We know things people didn't intend to tell us, didn't think they told us, and never intended to tell us if you know how to find it. Sometimes that information is provided against our desires. Sometimes it's provided without our knowing it. I previously wrote about how I detest Google because it tracks EVERYTHING you do and sells it for "advertising purposes", and I think I already wrote about how I hate the assessor's office for making available on their website details about the house I bought. I am guarded about certain details, certain stories, and certain information, and so when other people know certain things about me that I did not tell them, it does not win them props in my book. It puts me even more en garde. Just because you think it's a cute gesture doesn't mean the recipient will feel the same way.
It's that time of year when Christmas cards arrive. I don't send any, but I appreciate those who reach out to let me know they care enough to spend money on a stamp to send me mail that isn't a bill. Far too many people contact me only when they want help. However, imagine my surprise to receive a card from a woman with whom I have not spoken in months, whom I haven't seen since June, and to whom I NEVER gave my address. I am unsettled knowing that she has my address since I didn't give it to her. I haven't reached out to this person because I do not want to. Is it endearing behavior or should I be worried that I have a stalker?
Only one other person ever came to my house without my giving them permission to do so who knew me at all let alone well. The Jehovah's Witnesses come all the time, but they visit the neighborhood and not just me. When she arrived and knocked on my door, it didn't endear her to me. In fact, I felt violated. My home is my refuge, and I invite whom I will to visit, and she was never invited. Later, when she attempted to build a relationship with me, this affront made sure that we never became anything because I wasn't sure I could trust her to vouchsafe information she could only get from me and not pass it on.
I come into possession of sensitive information all the time. I am bound by HIPPA and FERPA to keep some of it secret, and I am bound by HONOUR to keep the rest secret. If it is not my information to disseminate, it doesn't matter how I got it. I believe very strongly that this is one major reason why my Sunday School kids like me- they trust me not to betray them when they share sensitive information. On the other hand, if it affects me directly or involved me personally, I am perfectly free to share it. I know these people found out my address in a sidelong albeit probably legal manner. The first discovered it because she was a realtor. The second still boggles my mind, but it made me even less interested in seeing her again. Who is this that darkeneth counsels by words without knowledge? I don't like when people have advantage over me by knowing information about me that I did not give them. All too often, they know half the story without the other half to explain the context. You will hear lots of things about me; some of it will actually be true, but only some.
Although I know that other people may know my address, they choose not to reveal that out of deference. It's the proper thing to do, to not use information gained illegally, unethically, or surreptitiously in order to advance your personal prospects. People do it all the time, which is why so many people are rich, but it doesn't make it right, and this particular person has made herself less compelling to me because she has information about me that puts me at a disadvantage. I could probably find out her address; I have no interest in so doing. I'm not stalking her, but the case could be made that she is stalking me. I think the take-home message is that just because you find it endearing doesn't mean others will feel the same, and just like any other projected behavior, unless you clear it with someone first it may not have the outcome you intended.
Every Christmas, they play a litany of Christmas themed movies depicting unbelievable miracles, usually dealing with love and happiness. In reality, some of the miracles we experience are far less exciting and obvious. I think we get caught up so much in the spectacle and highlights that we sometimes take for granted things that happen. Sometimes I tap the dashboard of my Saturn the same way I would pet a beloved dog, because I know this car endures and lot and performs far beyond expectations getting me there and back again safely and efficiently. It's a miracle, and that's where my Christmas miracle begins.
While talking with my hiking buddy today, I remembered how close I came on my commute to a hospital bed this week. Tuesday morning, I watched from the corner of Sloan and Owens as the Clark County work vehicle (a Ford F-450) was t-boned by a young kid in a sedan. As far as I can tell, the sedan plowed right into the truck at full speed, as if he was completely distracted, and pushed the truck at a 45 degree angle all the way to the opposite curb. He was probably speeding, or else he wouldn't be able to push the truck that far. Initially nobody stopped, so I checked both drivers. The young kid tried to drive away despite an empty radiator and broken half shaft. The other driver insisted he was fine despite the fact that his door was crushed.
It dawned on me that I was seeing little short of a miracle. If I had been earlier to the stop sign, it is very possible that the young kid would have smashed headlong into ME. From the damage sustained by the truck, and given the location of the hit, I think he would have killed me right then and there. My Christmas miracle is that I get a 2017. Now I don't think that other driver deserved it or needed the hassle, but he was a better choice. His truck was large enough to protect him from the gravest of consequences. His truck wasn't his personal vehicle, so he isn't financially out anything. He seemed ok. I know I am.
Despite my hopes, 2016 turned out to not be particularly spectacular or memorable. While it will be the best financial year of my life, it doesn't really stand out in any other way besides not being painful. Nobody died, nobody rejected me, and the dean finally retired. I'm still not promoted, but I did get my 4.5% raise, and the legislature promised not to cut our salaries since the state budget is still under duress. So, since I made it to work safely, I'm starting out 2017 without any assurance of suffering or malaise.
I really wanted 2016 to be amazing. I really hoped that things would change that were eternally significant. I recognize however that there are still really only two things about my life I would change. First off, I would like to be recognized and rewarded for my work with a promotion/raise/better job. In the last two years, I've applied for six different jobs/positions, and I only got an interview for one of them, so I'm concluding that for some reason this is where I ought to be. I know that my church leaders seem very convinced that I belong as a Sunday School instructor for the high school age kids; I still think they're nuts, but they also seem to be correct. Secondly, I ask God to please provide a partner. I didn't even meet anyone in 2016 I really wanted to get to know. I figure it will take little short of a standing miracle to introduce me to someone who will love me, appreciate my love, and stay with me, but I did see a standing miracle that day, so I know that anything is possible. It's still the season of perpetual hope. At least, thanks to Divine Providence, I get another chance next year.
