Light the Lamps

I've been doing some thinking today. I remember having a friend who said, "Marriage is a lot like taking care of an oil lamp. It takes work to keep it going." I'm going to go one step further. In olden days, before electric street lights, there were gas lamps. One person's job was to keep the wicks trimmed. Someone else lit the lamps each night. A third person came through the next morning and snuffed out the lights. In marriage, it takes two to keep it going just like it took two to keep those lamps going. And a third person can snuff it out. If only the wick trimmer does his job, the lamps would remain dark. If there was no wick to light, the lamp lighter couldn't do his job. In marriage, we both need to work to keep things going strong. And we can let a third person or activity or anything else take over our marriage and snuff it out. But we can guard against that. Most marriage ceremonies end with the phrase "What God has joined together, let man not separate." Most also include the phrases, "For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness or in health." Marriage isn't easy. It takes work. But it's worth it! Take it from one who almost let hers be snuffed out. 

Around the World in 80 Hours

   OK, so we didn't travel around the world. But it sure felt like a whirlwind trip somewhere...and I did a lot of traveling! I've posted statuses along the way but feel the need to put everything together and also thank a couple groups of people.

   At about 2:30 in the morning on Thursday (St. Patrick's Day), Drew (my husband) began throwing up blood. After the first time, he tried to come wake me up to take him to the hospital. But he couldn't even get out of the bathroom before having another episode. Once he was able to come get me (why did God pick that moment to make me sleep soundly enough that I didn't even hear him get up. That's unusual), we quickly put on some clothes, grabbed a trash can and headed out. He had one more episode before we got out the door. Being so early in the morning, there was very little traffic and we got almost all green lights the whole way. He had one more episode in the parking garage - thank goodness for the trash can!)

   There was one person checking in with their child when we walked into the Emergency Room at Memorial Hospital. They got us checked in quickly and in just a few minutes we were in a room. Jake was our nurse and he was hilarious!! He picked on us, we picked back. Drew (who was admittedly quite scared) was trying to hide his fear through humor, which is so typical of my husband. He was joking around with Jake and within the first two minutes we were with him, Jake proclaimed, "I'm so over you!" followed by a chuckle. We joked back and forth and Jake did an initial assessment and took vitals.

Waiting in the ER

   Dr. Monahan came in and asked Drew some questions, looked at some things, joked with us a bit (that's typical Dr. Monahan. Yes, having had our kids - son more than anything - and ourselves in the ER multiple times over the years, we have ER doctors and nurses that we know well and even triage and treatment rooms we like more than others.) He had an IV started to run some fluids. After a brief time, he left. A lab tech came and drew blood, Jake hooked Drew up to monitors to check his blood pressure, heart rate and breathing rate. I had texted our associate pastor and he quickly made his way to the hospital to visit and pray with us.

   Later, Dr. Thompson came in. She's a hospitalist, which means she's a doctor who can see any patient in any part of the hospital. She just so happens to work with my best childhood friend. She said she was assuming Drew had bleeding ulcers and wanted to get a GI scope done to verify that. She left the room to get that scheduled. We waited a bit and then another nurse came in. His name was Dominick (I'm not sure if that's how he spells his name but I know that's his name). He was maybe 5' 2" tall. A tiny Italian man. He's worked at the ER for over 30 years. The doctor who delivered me and was my doctor my entire life got him into nursing and he worked with my Aunt Glida who was the nurse in charge of Memorial's ER for many years. He said they were going to be admitting Drew.

   Heather came in to prepare Drew for transport to the 11th floor of the hospital. There we were met by Chris (the day shift nurse) and Carolyn (the patient care assistant) who would be taking care of Drew. They were tremendous! They also joked around and really made us feel very comfortable. We got Drew all settled in, kind of thinking they would do the scope and send us home but were just keeping us from having to sit in the ER room until they could get him in. However, we figured it would be a long day so I left to come home and shower, change clothes and grab Drew's laptop and our chargers.

   After I got back, our pastor came to visit and pray with us. It was unexpected but certainly much appreciated. We tried to settle in and get comfortable for much of the day. Mid afternoon, Dr. Oh came in to introduce himself and the GI specialist who would be doing the scope. However, he had a full schedule on Thursday so would have to squeeze Drew in on Friday. Yep, we were spending the night. Sarah and Joe (our daughter and son-in-law) and Howard, a friend of my brother's who works in the cafeteria at Memorial stopped by to visit. Drew tried to get as comfortable as possible. (Of course, he was kept on a clear liquid diet which meant only broth and Jello until midnight and then nothing until after the scope. So that made him uncomfortable anyway). I wanted to stay at the hospital all night but I had signed up to bring milk and juice for our staff breakfast at school Friday morning. So, I left the hospital reluctantly, stopped at the store then came home for the night. As soon as I walked in the door, I wished I was back at the hospital. I knew he was in the very capable hands of his nurse, Sarah and patient care assistant, April. But that didn't make it any easier. Drew and I messaged each other for awhile before we tried to get some sleep. We were both pretty unsuccessful - he because they kept coming in to take blood or check vitals. He saw MedFlight come in, heard a code blue call for another floor and listened to the lady down the hall screaming all night. Me because I can't sleep well without my husband laying next to me. I never have been and most likely never will be. The absence of his breathing - and snoring - was so noticeable, the silence was deafening. As soon as I knew I'd be able to drop off the milk and juice, I made my way to school, made my delivery and made a beeline to the hospital.

   We found out the GI scope would be done at 11:30. We held hands and watched TV for the morning and waited to be taken down to "outpatient" surgery. Rhonda, the charge nurse during Friday's day shift came in and started Drew's IV in a much better spot. ER had put it right at the hinge of his elbow which made it hard to take a drink, blow his nose, or even scratch his head. Rhonda put it in the middle of his forearm which was so much nicer for him. A little after 11:00, Scott came and moved Drew to a surgical bed. A nursing student from Ivy Tech followed along as we went down to the basement of the hospital where outpatient surgeries are done. We waited while they finished prepping the room chatting with each other and the nursing student. Drew and I prayed together and gave each other a kiss. Dr. Oh was ready to get started, Stephanie, Dr. Oh's nurse, took Drew in and Scott showed me to a very nice waiting room. I sat and did my Bible reading, prayed and tried to relax. Before I knew it, Scott came to tell me they were done. He walked me back to the room where Dr. Oh showed me the pictured from the scan, explained his findings and also what he was able to do. Diagnosis was "multiple ulcers in the esophagus and stomach as well as a hiatal hernia." Dr. Oh said he cauterized the veins to stop the bleeding and said they would be closely monitoring Drew. We were taken back up to our room - me relieved it was done, Drew rather groggy from the sedation. We rested together and I got to show the scope pictures off to Chris and Tammy (the PCA for day shift Friday) who were with us all day Friday. Drew got put back on a clear liquid diet for the rest of the day. More broth and Jello. Yuck A friend of mine who grew up two doors down from me came with her daughter to visit and bring me dinner. I appreciated that so much! Food at the hospital gets very expensive! Dr. Waldrop came in to check on Drew. She talked about the plan of action for the ulcers and also discussed her concern with Drew's high blood pressure. She also works with my childhood best friend, so that was cool!

One of the wackiest camping trips ever

   I spent the night Friday night. Jenna was the nurse and April (a different one) was the PCA. They were amazing and so compassionate! While we didn't get to sleeping the same bed, I at least got to sleep in a reclining chair right next to Drew and we could hold hands. But to be honest, I spent more time just smiling as I listened to him snore off and on during the night. We still didn't get much sleep but did a little better being together.

   Saturday morning, I made a quick run to Walmart to get a few things. Soon after I got back, our friend Jim from church stopped in for a short visit. Just a short time ago, I was visiting him in the ICU at the same hospital. It was such a blessing to have him take a few minutes to stop in. YuYu, the daughter of Drew's assistant manager, works in the cafeteria at the hospital. She stopped up between her split shift to see how he was doing. Later, Drew's Dad, Mom, sister-in-law and nephew came to visit. They spent quite a chunk of time with us, which was wonderful. While they were there, we had a completely unexpected visitor. Our friend, Seth stopped by. He's the baseball coach at Bethel and his wife and I had a class together when we were in school. He's had some major health issues in the past and we've been prayer warriors for him. He said it was time he could come be a prayer warrior for us. He talked for quite a long time and prayed with us before he left. I'm sure Bobbie and Robin, our nurse and PCA during the day thought room 1139 had become Grand Central Station!

We saw some beautiful sunsets!

   We got some good news while Drew's parents were here: He could eat solid foods once again!! Bobbie brought him a menu and he picked food to make up his first "real" food since dinner Wednesday night! Sarah came to visit for awhile and so did my brother. He even brought a couple bags of Lehman's mints and a Guidepost magazine. He visited for quite a long time. Jodi and April were our overnight nurse and PCA. We hadn't met Jodi before. April had been there Thursday night. So it was fun to have her back. And Jodi was amazing!! We were having a very rough night sleeping. Drew was hurting from laying on his back so much but it was hard to lay on his side because of the IV tubes. In the middle of the night, Jodi and April located a special air mattress and pump to put on his bed, got that all set up, put new sheets on his bed and got us settled back in. We slept the best during those few hours than we had the whole time since we got there. Apparently I sleep better when he's sleeping better because my "bed" was no more comfortable than it had been!

   Sunday morning, Dr. Oh came in and said hemoglobin counts had stayed level so he didn't see any reason Drew couldn't go home!! He told us that he would need to do another scope in a month and discussed some expectations with us. Dr. Waldrop came in later to officially discharge Drew, give us his prescriptions, talk about changes that needed to be made as well as follow-up appointments that would be coming up. Drew got dressed, I packed things up and at about 11:00, we were headed down the elevator and towards the exit! After 80 hours in the hospital, we were headed home!!

My little pole dancer

   It was a whirlwind few days but we were blessed with so many great people. From Efrim, Pastor Randy, Joe, Sarah, Howard, Tracy and her daughter Sarah, Dad, Mom, Kathy, Kyle, Seth, YuYu, and Bob who visited, our son Jon, Drew's mom and youngest sister who called to check on him (Jon and Bekah took time to FaceTime each night so Jonny could say, "Feel better, Gwampa!") to Drs. Monahan, Thompson, Oh, and Waldrop, Jake, Dominick, Chris, Carolyn, Heather, Sarah, April #1, April #2, Rhonda, Tammy, Stephanie, Scott, Jenna, Jodi, Bobbie, Robin, Jill who cleaned the room each morning, the countless lab techs who drew blood, food service workers who delivered Drew's meals, and people at South Bend Chocolate Cafe who allowed me to refull my coffee cup repeatedly, to those of you who faithfully prayed for us, all we can say is...THANK YOU!!!

Our parting words to the most amazing team!

   We have a long road ahead, but we know we'll make it. We've been through lots of things together over the past 24 years, some good and some bad. But the good thing is, we've done it together. Each challenge has been conquered together. Each victory has been celebrated together. This challenge is no different. We'll win this victory together!






 

Silver Boxes

   When my kids were little, I was a summer camp director at our church camp. For many summers, I would pack myself and kids up and we'd move into our cabin at camp on Sunday evening to prepare for campers to arrive on Monday morning. We'd spend the next few days with over 100 children who had just finished First through Third Grade. We'd go back home late Wednesday night, spend a couple days doing laundry and repacking before leaving again on Sunday. It seems like my kids were almost raised at church camp. That's not a bad thing. In some ways, I'm glad those days are done. In other ways, I'd love to have those days back. The friendships that were created, the memories that were made.
 
   Perhaps one of my biggest memories took place one summer during our annual counselor orientation week. Of course, we always told the staff how to handle homesick campers, campers who didn't want to participate, how to have cabin devotions, etc. But this one summer, we also told them how to talk to campers and each other. I often think about this particular "training" and how it applies to life.

   Florence Littauer is a pastor's wife and Christian author/speaker. One Sunday, she was visiting a church. The pastor was so happy to have a professional Christian speaker in his church so asked her at the last minute if she would share a brief message. She quickly came up with a message to give them and this message is what we shared with our staff.

  Ephesians 4:29 says, "Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers." (She used King James) I like the Message version so much better. It says, "Watch the way you talk. Let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth. Say only what helps, each word a gift."

   Florence went on to say that the words we speak to others should be like "silver boxes with bows on top" meaning that we should speak kindly to others. While Scripture addresses swearing, Florence's message really focused more on speaking kindly and treating people compassionately. This was likewise the message we shared with our staff.

   If you were to give someone a gift, or better yet if you were to receive a gift, would you like that gift to be in a tattered cardboard box that looks like it's been sitting out in the rain or run over by a car? Or would you prefer to have a pretty little box, neatly wrapped with a festive bow on the top? If someone gave me a gift in a ratty old cardboard box, that would tell me a lot about what they think of me and how valuable I am to them. However, if they gave me a gift that they took time to wrap carefully, I would know that they find                                                           value in me.

   Friends, our words should be the same. If you speak rudely to everyone you meet, what message do you think that gives them? I'm not even just talking about being nasty when you talk to them. If you treat them like they're inferior to you or like they do everything wrong, that's not a gift to them. Making people feel like the way God made them isn't good enough isn't a gift to them. Every time you belittle someone or make them feel inferior or unappreciated, you're tossing a broken-down cardboard box that's been sitting out in the rain at them.

   On the flip side, if you let people know you appreciate them just the way God made them and say encouraging things to them, if you speak kindly and genuinely with them, if you value what they have to say and don't act like you have all the answers, it's like giving them a little gift, beautifully wrapped with a little bow on top.

    I've had both kinds of "gifts" handed to me. I've had people treat me like I didn't know anything, like I had no opinion, like I wasn't worthwhile. I've had those people who have acted like they knew everything about life and I was totally clueless. Every day I was around them made me feel like ratty cardboard boxed were being heaped up in front of me. But I've also had people who show they appreciate me, speak kindly and compassionately, value what I have to say, take my ideas into consideration and show they find value in me. Those gifts are so much more valuable.

   Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're not good enough because you're not like them. Don't ever let anyone make you into what they want you to be. If you're being the way God made you, embrace it! Anyone who can't accept that obviously thinks God made you wrong and they can do better. Don't surround yourself with those people. Surround yourself with people who let you be the way God made you and appreciate you just the way you are. Give a silver box to everyone you meet!

 

 

Finding Grace and Seeing Christ

      Last week I started a Faith Journey. Let me give you some background about me:

      I grew up in a Christian home. My maternal grandfather was a pastor. He and my grandmother were very active in their church (obviously). I watched them pray and read Scripture. My paternal grandparents were also involved in their church, my grandmother being active in women's ministries and my grandfather serving on the board of directors of the denomination's college. Prayer, Scripture reading and faith was a big part of their lives. 

      I was raised by a church music minister (my dad) and church pianist. We were in church every Sunday morning, Sunday evening and Wednesday evening. It wasn't a "going through the motions" kind of thing. It was a heartfelt desire to be in church. I grew up going to Sunday School, church camp, and memorizing Scripture as part of my church's Bible quiz team. I served on a short term missions experience team because I wanted to be a missionary (God didn't call me to be but I thought I knew better than Him at the time). 

      At the age of 9, on the steps of my dorm at Prairie Camp, I gave my heart to Christ. It was an easy decision to make. Then I figured helping with Bible School every summer, being on the quiz team, going to camp (and eventually being a counselor and, later, the director of the church camp) and serving on a missions team was enough. Shoot, I even went to a Bible college! I was good to go. Or so I thought. 

      I got married and started a family. We raised our kids in church. They were on Bible quiz teams, went to church camp (since I was the director, it was only natural). We weren't the best parents in the world but we did the best we could. We loved them (and still do). We sent them to youth events. Again, I thought I was doing all the things a Christian parent is supposed to do. 

      But then through lies of Satan who kept telling me I wasn't good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, etc (the lies changed often but were loud and frequent), I thought I'd be better off making my own life choices. I made bad ones. I turned away from God. Not like murder and bank robbery type choices. But choices God would have made for me. I still went to church. I still read the Bible. But this time it became more a "going through the motions" type thing. I just really got off track. But then God brought me to my knees. Ok, it was more a giant shove to the floor, slammed to my knees type deal. I've slowly climbed myself out of the pit Satan gladly welcomed me into. 

      I was doing much better but then I started watching "Christians" around me and thinking I didn't come close to measuring up to them. There were some who seemed to think they needed to shout to the world, "I'M A CHRISTIAN!!!" and there were some who quietly whispered it but what I saw on the outside didn't look like what I thought Christ would do. I didn't want to be a part of either of those. So I went to church because that's what I was supposed to do. I had devotions every day because I was supposed to. But I wasn't sure that I wanted to be part of something that I had to either blast in peoples' faces or that was just in name only but my actions had nothing to do with. 

      I read through the Bible two years in a row - the first year I more like skimmed through it, not really paying attention to it that much but the second year I started to highlight things as they jumped out at me. I took more time to see what God might want me to learn. But then this year, I was invited on a Faith Journey. A pastor I follow on Facebook started this journey to help encourage anyone who was willing to take the journey. I knew my faith needed something.So I joined the journey. I receive encouraging e-mails and texts, prayer support, and challenges to pray with people, read chunks of Scripture, etc. I feel a sense of belonging to the body of Christ. Since beginning, I've noticed that the Scripture I read (I'm now on year three of reading the entire Bible in 365 days) seems to come alive. I'm more confident in my faith. This all brings me to what God showed me today. (If you've read this far, congratulations!)

      This  week, I started reading the book "What's So Amazing About Grace? A quote in my reading today really got me thinking. Gordon McDonald said, "You need not be a Christian to build houses, feed the hungry or heal the sick. There is only one thing the world cannot do. It cannot offer grace." It made me wonder what happens when the church doesn't offer grace. I'm not saying "the church" meaning the building where a group of people gathers to worship. I'm saying "the church" meaning those of us who God calls His own. How do we treat people who aren't "as good" as us? People who may have to work harder to do the right thing. People who may miss going to church (the building) once in awhile. People who don't listen to worship music all the time. People who have smoked or consumed alcohol. People who have made mistakes. Do we give them grace? My experience has been that grace isn't always seen in Christians. I'm not saying that all Christians fail to show grace to sinners. But there are those who will point out every way that your life is "wrong." Please know, I will never judge you for the way you are, the way you talk, act, what you eat, etc. God is the only one who has the right to judge you. I'm not a judgmental Christian and never will be. The way you live your life is between you and God. I will show you grace. I will pray with you. I will tell you about the grace of my Savior. But I will NEVER make you feel inferior!

      Now, going back to those Christians who seem to walk around wearing a sign that says, "I'M A CHRISTIAN!!" - I would rather people be able to tell I'm a Christian by the way I talk, how I spend my time, where I spend my free time, how I treat them, how I act when I'm around non-Christians, etc. I shouldn't have to tell people I'm a Christian. They should be able to tell it by the way I live my life. I will gladly share Jesus with anyone. I will pray with anyone who asks me. I pray for people even when they don't ask. But I don't force them to believe what I believe. Again, that's between them and God. I will never be ashamed to tell you what I believe. But I won't force it down your throat. Jesus never did. Why should I? So, I hope you can see Jesus through me. If I have to tell you I'm a Christian, I'm doing it wrong and I need to fix something. 

Devotion

Last night in the quietness of the house, I heard a voice speak this word to me. Devotion. When I think of the word 'devotion' I think of being devoted to something. I think of the thing I'm devoted to being higher on my list of priorities.

I'm devoted to my husband. I'm devoted to my family. These people are way at the top of my list of priorities. I'm devoted to being at work every day I need to be. I'm devoted to taking care of our home, cooking meals, being sure we have food to eat, visiting my neighbor every Tuesday, and the list goes on.

Then this voice asked, "You're devoted to many things. Are you devoted to Me?" *Gulp* Well, I try hard to be. I mean, I read the Bible every day. In fact, I'm on my third time reading through the Bible in a year. I have devotions every morning and every evening. I pray every day. Then this question came: "Does 'going through the motions' mean the same as 'devotion'? Whoa!

The dictionary says devotion means "profound dedication or consecration; earnest attachment to a cause, person, etc.; an assignment or appropriation to any purpose, cause, etc." Well, that sure changes my answer to the question I was asked.

I couldn't help but think of the number of times I'd been reading the Bible but thinking about what I needed to do when I was finished reading for the day. Or I'd be having my morning devotions thinking about what tasks I needed to accomplish that day. I thought about the times I'd just mute the TV while I did my daily Bible reading rather than turn it off...or wait to turn it on until my reading was done. I thought about all those times I'd see a prayer request from a friend on Facebook and tell them I'd be praying. But then I never remembered to actually pray for them.

Starting here and now, those days are done. From now on, TV will not be turned on until my Bible reading is done, I've taken time to think about what God was saying through that Scripture and I've prayed that He would help me to continue chewing on it. If I tell you I'll be praying for you, rest assured I mean it.

Recently, my husband and I watched the movie War Room. It was a tremendous movie! We live in a little house with small closets. I don't have a place I could make into my war room. Besides, I spend more hours awake at work than I do at home. So I've decided my desk area will be my war room. I get into my classroom 30 minutes before students begin arriving. I have lunch at my desk. I have 30 minutes after my last class that I'm at my desk. I have prayer requests taped all around my computer and desk area. I pray over them all throughout the day. I will continue to do that. They say it takes 21 days to create a habit. Yesterday was day 1. In 20 days, I hope that this all comes naturally to me. I hope that it seems normal to spend the first chunk of time at home in the evening sitting in silence listening to God speak to me as I read His Word. I hope I don't have to stick notes all over to remind me to pray for people. I hope I don't have to work so hard to tune life out while I focus on Christ and my devotion to him. TV, text messages and computer games can wait. First, I need to show Jesus that I am devoted to him and not just going through the motions. I urge you to join me.

Simple Celebrations

Today is my Mom's 80th birthday. I called her this morning and started singing "Happy Birthday" to her when she answered. She started laughing hysterically! I couldn't figure out why she was laughing...until she said, "I forgot it was even my birthday!" Folks, I haven't gotten to the point in my life where I forget my birthday yet. In fact, I still want everyone in my path know when it's my birthday. It's the only day I want to be the center of attention.

However, my sweet parents forget when it's their birthday. (My dad will be 80 next week. I already told him to soak up every minute of pointing out he's in his 70s and she's 80). Knowing I couldn't do much for her birthday, I told them to meet me at the grocery store near us which has a Starbucks in it. I figured the least I could do was buy them some good coffee to celebrate.

While we were there, they told me that their outside light (a gas light that's been there for at least my whole life) had been blown out by the strong winds overnight. Dad turned the gas off until the mantles could be replaced. Of course, he is missing a thumb on one hand and can't begin to tie the mantles onto the brackets. But I can :) Oh, and I failed to mention that the heat source in their family room is a gas stove that was now off due to the gas needing to be turned off. Anyway, after coffee, I stopped by, tied the mantles onto the brackets, put them on the light, had him turn the gas back on, I lit the mantles and replaced the gas. Then I went in and got their stove going so they could be warm tonight.

Buying a couple cups of coffee. Tying on some mantles, Getting an outside light back on. Getting a heating stove going. Simple things, right? To me they were. To my Mom (and Dad) they were a huge way to celebrate her birthday!

So, to my Grandma and Grandpa who raised her and my Uncle who graciously didn't kill his big sister (even though I'm sure there were plenty of times he wanted to), I say. "Thank you!!" To my Mom (who won't see this because she's lucky she knows how to check her e-mail), I say, "Happy birthday!!" To each of you reading this I say, "Do things for others even if they seem simple to you. To someone else it might mean the world!"

Random Thoughts

I haven't blogged in a few weeks. God asked me to write weekly. But I keep using the excuse that He's not giving me anything to write so I just skip it. How dare I? Shame on me for thinking I had nothing to write. God never told me it had to be profound. He told me to write. I have thoughts in my head daily. Today, I decided to share something I've been pondering.

I've noticed something about people. Some people do everything in their power to be noticed. Others do everything to stay hidden. Still others stay in the middle. They just want to do what they need to do and move on. I tend to be more in the middle but lean toward the anonymity side. Flamboyant people annoy me. But they also make me feel inferior. Sometimes I wish I were more outgoing. But I'm the way God made me and I can't change that. Flamboyant people are the way God made them and they can't change it either.

So, how can we find some sort of middle ground? I wish I had a magic answer. It would make life easier. What I do know is that, whether you're flamboyant and outgoing or quiet and prefer to stay unnoticed, show respect for the "other side." Quite often, outgoing people come across as thinking they have all the answers and know everything. In reality, God is the only one that has all the answers.

Outgoing people, be sure you're letting the quiet ones know you value and appreciate them. Quiet ones, remember what Eleanor Roosevelt said: "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."

Be kind to everyone. You don't have to be friends with everyone in your life. But you do need to show respect and kindness. I don't believe God will ask us why we weren't friends with everyone. But He will ask why we weren't kind. You don't have to let your life be an open book and no one should expect you to be. But be kind. Show respect. Give a smile.

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Ok, sorry if that seemed disjointed. In my defense, I told you it was random thoughts. Now, go be nice!