My Take on the Olympics

Kerri Strug Vault

Abigail and Dolley readers for what it's worth, I don't watch the Olympics.  The last time I sat glued to the TV over an Olympic event was the ladies gymnastics thriller in Atlanta.  You may recall the 1996 games, where a badly hurt Kerri Strug needed to land a vault to bring home USA Women's Gold.  My husband and I sat glued to the TV while the drama played out... well past Midnight on a weekday.  I remember being exhausted but exhilarated the next day, only to find out the event was on a tape delay and NBC had played us.

I believe I have over the years tried to watch certain events, only to be turned off by the incessant human interest coverage and very little sports coverage.  If the USA did not win an event, it would not be shown.  The time delays are another factor, in this digital world to have the news media report the outcome of an event six hours before NBC airs the event is laughable.  The melodrama they infuse into every segment in unnecessary.  We do not need to be told of the struggle, we don't have to be coaxed into excitement, the athletes do that on their own, it is the nature of sports.

NBC's reality show packaging of one of the purest of human endeavors is insulting.  To them I say, you lost me in '96 NBC, you lost me in '96. 

Hickory NC Roads From Hell

Abigail and Dolley readers I believe there is a special place in Hell reserved for the city planners of Hickory NC.  They will spend eternity in a car with a broken air conditioner and a GPS, trying to find an address, all of eternity will be spent aimlessly lost.  It is their just punishment for the countless hours that have been wasted in the labyrinth that is Hickory NC.

If you are on 11 Ave SE and head NW you will not end up on 11 Ave NW... no the street will dead end into 11 Ave SE Place Drive which will dead end into 15 Street SW Place Circle which is of course nowhere near 14 Street SW Place Circle...

I work with a lady whose husband is from Hickory and has lived on 22nd Ave three times in his life and never on the same street.  Someone sent me a facebook comment that their GPS had actually exclaimed, "What the hell?"  There are some seriously demented folks who planed this city.  What about Oak Street for goodness sake!  That's a good name and how about this novel idea only allow one of them... No, in Hickory you have Oak St NWSE which is no where near Oak St SENW.... then we'd have Oak Drive Street and Oak Road NE and Oak Blvd Street...

Behold the beauty of trying to find an address off of 11 Ave NE, folks I can't make this stuff up.

Hickory NC Map - 11 Ave NE

If the city has aspirations to grow, I say rename the darn streets so people who are coming to your city to do business can FIND your resident businesses... Geez!

You Didn't Build That!

Abigail and Dolley readers I try to stay out of the headline of the day, minutia of the news cycle.  To be involved in the daily grind of outrage, death, and destruction is ultimately unhealthy.  There is nothing edifying about it.  Paul knew what he was talking about when he said, Philippians 4:8 And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. There is very little about the news cycle that fits that criteria. 

That being said, I just can't seem to let Obama's speech in Roanoke pass without comment, as the wife of a struggling entrepreneur, I have to chime in.   "If you’ve got a business -- you didn’t build that.  Somebody else made that happen."

Marinate on that for a moment, that is flat out Communism.  It's code for, you have no right to the fruit of your labor - collectively, we get it.  I have intimated in my writings for the last few years of the struggle my family and I have gone through, much of it to do with the sacrifices we have chosen to make in pursuit of our own business.

I invented a revolutionary product in the sweltering heat of July in 2010.  For the last 24 months, my husband has worked to bring that product to market.  By doing so, we have sacrificed an income, spent all of our savings, and struggled with the overwhelming stress of economic uncertainty; in pursuit of the dream.  We have done it with no loans, no money, and no help from anyone.

Our story is not unique, it is the story of small business, it is the story of the origins of big business, and the story of America.  It is not surprising that Barack Obama has this view because this is HIS life experience.  The evidence to support this statement is abundant, one must simply look at his legislative record as a State Senator and a US Senator - there is no accomplishment in his WORK to justify his current position.  Hell, he's the most do nothing President we've ever had.  He's golfed more, vacationed more, and worked less than any President in modern times.  His Oval Office work ethic is said to be atrocious, arriving, if at all, after 10am and doing very little.  Why do you think he has all those "czars"?  They do the job that HE is supposed to do.

"You didn't build that, somebody else made that happen."
 
That is not an American worldview.  That is not a Capitalist mentality.  Once again, the Emperor Has No Clothes.

A Bee in a Bottle

Abigail and Dolley readers this is one of those personal blog posts.  I hesitate to write them but feel compelled to share my trials.  In many ways, this blog is my legacy and life isn't always peaches and cream.  In this season of my life, times are tough and they have been for longer than I'd like.  I struggle mightily to stay positive, focused on Christ, and in good spirits.  Some days are easier than others; today was one of the hard ones.  Around lunch time, I went into the prayer closet.  It took a long time to settle my mind and honestly, I don't know if I ever really did.  In spite of my prayer, I emerged troubled and stumbled through the rest of the day.

As I was sitting there, I envisioned myself as a bee in a glass jar; frantically banging up against the sides, trying to escape.  Bees are busy and made for work.  I've never thought of myself as a bee but I guess I am.  I prayed, "Lord, I keep hitting the sides of this jar desperately trying to break out.  I have fallen to the bottom of the jar, exhausted and panting.  I can not seem to make any progress no matter how hard I try."

Bee in a Bottle

Misery, fear, and hopelessness filled my soul and I sobbed, "Lord, I have to move forward.  There are bad things in this jar coming to consume me.  Please, let me out."  He didn't audibly speak to me, but the thought occurred to me that I did not know what was outside of the jar.  What if the jar was not a prison but protection?  I scoffed at the thought, and reasserted that disaster was at hand.  We were quiet for a while.  He then told me to look down.  What I had perceived as inside the jar was actually on the other side of the glass.  The swirling mass of scary blackness that was about to devour me was barred from touching me.  I was safe in this glass jar.

Am I comfortable?  Um, NO.  Am I happy to be here?  NOT!  Would I embrace a change?  You can bet your sweet "patootie" I would.  In the mean time, writing this blog has been helpful and I'm coming to the realization that I AM protected and I AM cherished.  Maybe I simply need to catch my breath, stop banging myself silly, and recognize that I am not out of this jar because I haven't tried hard enough.  I'm not stuck in this jar because there is sin in my life, the jar is not punishment.

We strive on this Earth, in this body, always looking up.  I think the lid is translucent and we see Heaven's light above us.  We don't recognize it as Heaven, we think it is a place we are going to get to on this Earth, in this life.  We think that if HE would just let us out, we would fly right into it and everything will be better.  I don't think such a place exists here.  Some days are sunny, the darkness held at bay.  Even then, there is always something lurking, some turd in the punch bowl.  This life is not Heaven and we aren't made to feel at home here.

I hope that if you are reading this and feel battered against the glass walls of your bottle, you will take heart that you are not alone.  We all go through these times, take a rest, the Lord is in charge.  I'm chillin' out down here at the bottom of my jar, my antennae are all crooked, one wing is jacked up, and that last crack to the head is making me sleepy.  I am going to rest knowing that He neither slumbers nor sleeps and he's watching out for me tonight.