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Little Things

BumbleBee

Little Things

I’m bringin’ home my baby bumblebee,
won’t my Mama be so proud of me?
I’m bringin’ home my baby bumblebee,
Ouch! It stung me.

Last night I took the dog outside, turned on the water spigot, and began to water our flowers. The dryness and heat we’ve had the last several weeks have taken their toll. The flowers look wilted and their color is fading. I finished up watering as the dog finished up his business and went back inside. I sat down on the couch and watched TV. As I sat there my leg, just above my left knee, began to itch. I scratched but it kept itching so I scratched it again and this time I realized it wasn’t itching there was something crawling on me! I thought about jumping up but didn’t want to lose whatever it was on the couch or on the floor. I quickly grabbed a napkin and used it to scoop up what I thought had to be a spider. After catching it I went to the kitchen where the light was better and slowly opened up the napkin and found a baby bumblebee inside. It wasn’t scary or aggressive it was there in the napkin and began buzzing. I took it outside and let it go hoping it would be able to find its way back to wherever it came from.

Life comes full circle. Last week I wrote about a dying adult bumblebee which still had enough life in it to sting me when I accidentally stepped on it. This week it was a baby bumblebee beginning its journey. Since the beginning of this week, I’ve read announcements of births and deaths on social media sites from people I know. I talked with a friend last night who mentioned the daylight is already getting noticeably shorter.

Often it’s the little things that remind us the seasons of life keep moving and we’re passengers along for the ride.

For more posts, reflections, poems, and other writings, please visit:
http://www.thewannabesaint.com

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)

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Frustration

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Frustration

This morning I had an early appointment in Nashville to being a training. I put the address in my GPS app on my phone and off I went. It took me to the exact spot I’d entered into the phone but there was one problem, it was the wrong address. It took me a moment to realize my mistake until I literally got to the end of a dead-end road. Argh! I felt my frustration starting to grow. Instead of being 30 minutes early I was going to be late. I checked the address again, realized where I made my mistake, and set off in the right direction. Trying not to let my anxiety rise to a harmful level I turned on a three-lane road and stopped at a traffic light. I was in the far right lane, an SUV in the center lane, and a sports car in the left lane. I heard yelling and realized it was the SUV driver and the sports car driver having a road rage episode. I couldn’t make out much of what they were saying and the words I could understand I don’t dare repeat.

I sat there listening and watching the living embodiment of frustration out of control; testosterone, anger, and vitriol spewing out of both of them. It made me take stock of my mood and I realized it wasn’t worth getting upset over my mistake and to let it go. I did, arrived at the training on time and am thankful for the lesson two men out of control could teach me.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Pure

Pure

One of the images I like to use with the men I work with is an illustration about a sponge soaked in water.

If I were to go to a store, find the kitchen aisle, and buy a pack of sponges, I could take them home to use as I see fit. If I opened the packaging, took out one sponge and if my kitchen sink was clean I could fill it up with water, take the sponge which had never been used, ball it up in my hand, plunge it in the water, let it go and it would soak up clean water. If I then retrieved another sponge from the packaging, took it outside, found a mud puddle, balled up the sponge in my hand, plunged it in the murky water, let it go, it would soak up dirty water. The sponge isn’t the difference, it’s the water.

It’s similar to our lives. We are mostly products of where we came from, where we are, and where we are going. If our intentions are good and our hearts are pure most likely we will produce good results and our minds and spirits will be at peace. If, however, our hearts and intentions are selfish we will have no peace and wreak havoc on the lives of others.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Hate

Hate

Someone asked me today to define hate. I knew what they were asking. They were wanting to know if their dislike of another had gone far enough, grown enough to call it the “H” word. I described hate this way; “…an intense feeling of disdain, a lack of love and grace toward another, a set of blinders placed over one’s eyes and soul to stop from seeing anything good about the person.”

I’m not sure this is the best definition but it was one which resonated with my feelings of someone several years ago who had hurt me into the depths of my spirit. I couldn’t please this person, who focused on what I did wrong and rarely noticed what I did right, complained, criticized, isolated me from others and used up everything they needed and then threw me away like an empty beer can, never looking back.

If I’d ever hated someone this would be the person, but as I thought about them today the intensity was no longer there. It takes a lot of energy, passion, time, to hate someone. Hate occupies a lot of space in your brain, emotions, spirit and life. You dwell on the other, fueled by your extreme contempt. Hatred consumes you and there comes a point when you have to make a choice; “Will I allow my pain and scorn to become who and what I am? Or, do I begin to let it go?

It’s not an easy decision but its the only option which leads to wholeness and peace.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

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Metal Rings, Wedding Rings and Other Things

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One of the first things I do,  if possible, when I sit down in an auditorium or worship center is unhook my chair from the rest of the row. Sometimes the seats are just too close together. This morning was no exception as I settled in for Sunday morning service. After the announcements, greeting, and music the pastor began speaking and while listening, following along in my Bible, I also began fiddling with the metal fastener on the side of the seat beneath the cushion. I’m not sure how it happened but my ring finger on my left hand became stuck in the metal loop.

At first I wasn’t worried. I figured it would come out with a little finagling. I moved it to the left, to the right, wiggled it, twisted it, bent it, squished it but no luck. Then I began to panic. I leaned over to my wife and whispered; “My finger’s stuck.” She gave me a quizzical look and I repeated with more emphasis; “My finger IS stuck!” Her eyes grew wide. I tried a few more times and it was still a no go. Then, I had an idea. I handed her everything I was holding and reached under the chair and slid my wedding ring off. Once it was gone I tried removing my finger again and success! The finger was red and sore but no permanent damage done. “Let’s not do that again” said Beth. “Not a problem.” I smiled.

As I reflect on the moments of being stuck and getting unstuck I thought about a story of how hunters catch certain breeds of monkeys. The trap is simple. Place a piece of fruit in a box with a hole just big enough for the animal to slide it’s hand in. However, once the animal grabs the treat it can’t pull it’s hand out the tiny opening. If it let go of what it was holding it could escape but that doesn’t occur to the monkey. Refusing to release its grip the monkey
seals its fate.

Oftentimes in life we’re trapped, stuck because we aren’t willing to give things up, put things down, let go, release our hold of things which actually have hold of us.

blessings,
@BrianLoging
http://www.thewannabesaint.com

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