Easter – It’s Kind of a Big Deal

Easter is almost here. It’s the most thought-provoking holiday. And I always get emotional thinking about Christ lugging that cross through the dirt, with blood streaming down his head from the thorns that punctured his skin when they were so fiercely applied, a crown of thorns he had to wear to mock him as King of the Jews. There is no species on earth so cruel as a human being inflicting pain and degradation upon another.

On the day of the crucifixion, I imagine that Barabbas, a notorious prisoner, was undeniably relieved that Pontius Pilate let the crowd choose to free him instead of Jesus. Ancient sources do say that Barabbas, on the day that he was released, went to Golgotha and watched Jesus die on the cross. Barabbas lived until he engaged in another Roman revolt. It’s ironic that Christ died so Barabbas could have eternal life, as Barabbas witnessed first-hand what went down that day, and how could he not believe it?

Christ has all the believers, but it is the unbelievers that he really wants. I have enjoyed many a spirited conversation with atheists and agnostics regarding their disbelief in what happened to Christ when he died and rose again. And I have to ask them, “Do you believe that Pearl Harbor was bombed on December 7, 1941?” They will always say yes. And I agree, as there were witnesses who watched it play out and they wrote about it – it has a very descriptive presence in all of our history books. So I then ask them, “But you weren’t there, so how can you believe it happened?” And they say, “Well, lots of people were there and they witnessed it.” Bingo. Lots of people witnessed the death and resurrection of Jesus and they wrote about it. In fact, they wrote about it in the best-selling novel of all time, our Bible. Oh, ye, of little faith. When the atheists and agnostics are suffering on their death bed, they won’t be praying to the Japanese at Pearl Harbor to save their souls – they will pray to God to relieve their suffering. There is no atheist in a foxhole.

I know Christmas is a big deal. We trade presents because the three wise men brought presents to the baby Jesus. None of this story could take place without first the birth. But Easter? That’s the big one, the one I get all emotional about. Christ came into the world, born of his mother like every other mother has given birth to many over countless centuries. And without the birth of Jesus there would be no Passover, no Easter, no resurrection. But the history of what happened with Christ’s resurrection and eventual return to the skies was almost too much the fodder of science fiction for that day and time. Who could make that stuff up back then?

We are told that after Christ died and the stone was moved from his grave, he appeared to Mary Magdalene at his tomb and later to his other followers on a mountain in Galilee. Different books of the bible tell different stories about the times that Christ appeared after his crucifixion, but there were so many witnesses that it could hardy be refuted unless all these witnesses were all deemed to be stark-raving mad, which they were not. To some writers of the gospel, Christ appeared in a vision only, and to others He appeared as a physical being. But he did appear and he had some pretty strong words about what we were supposed to do – believe and be baptized and be saved.

I think everyone believes what they grew up with. If you grew up going to church and your parents were of the Catholic faith, odds are that you will also stay steadfast in the Catholic faith of your parents. If you grew up in an agnostic and/or atheist background, or where there was no mention of religion either way? Then you may carry that on in your life. You would probably not understand why we Christians make such a big deal about Easter. It is a very big deal, indeed, to we Christians. We weren’t there, but others were. They witnessed it. They saw that when Christ was nailed to a cross, and hung up to die, there were soldiers who finally slit his side with a sword, which was customary at the time to hasten the death process. Peter, to whom Jesus first appeared, was forceful in his revelation of the event.

I wasn’t there. I only read about it in a book. But I believe it happened. It’s a very big deal to me.

Big Brother in the Workplace

One of my ultra-conservative friends was all aghast over the fact that his son and his wife were discussing a particular purchase in the privacy of their bedroom where there was a voice activated virtual assistant in the room. Soon they began seeing popups for that particular item on their P.C. They then surmised that a voice activated virtual assistant must be some type of government spy device set up only to get their private information. Toto, we aren’t in Kansas anymore. With the dawn of new technology comes an awareness that perhaps marketing tools might be part of our electronic devices. If I do an internet search for some particular item, it should come as no surprise to me that I will be getting advertising popups for that item. It’s a good idea to clear the cache, cookies and history from your computers, folks.

How far should this go in the workplace, though? Should it be okay for an employer to read what the employees post in a chat screen or in emails to others? The answer is yes. Not only is it legally okay for an employer to read what is posted in its workplace chat forums, but it is also okay for an employer to obtain information from any device owned and provided by the employer. People don’t seem to understand this. I have cautioned employees for twenty years to please realize that employers can and will have access to what goes across their servers at any given time. Those servers are maintained by employers not as a spy device, but mostly as a way of troubleshooting what system problem might arise. Most employers don’t have time to go into chat groups and read emails just because they have a nose problem. However, it does happen and it can cause a lot of chaos.

Yesterday someone made a mistake and posted a sign-on password (it was not mine, mind you, and I did not post it) on my personal chat page in our group chat site, and it appeared right beside my name as though I posted it. Obviously someone was accessing the site and forgot where they were and they posted their login ID under my screen name, and I’m sure it was unintentional. But it brings to mind the fact that big brother is alive and well in the workplace, and just happened to make the not-so-bright error and got caught doing it. I laughed it off but it did kind of irk me a bit. If you are gonna spy on our work chat groups, can’t you be a little more careful about it? Everyone just thought I made a stupid mistake and posted my own sign-on ID in error. It’s okay and I’ll let them think that I did it. About a month ago, a coworker told me that she was sure that nobody else reads our private chats. I smiled to myself and wondered how, in the year 2019, people can be so unknowing about how things operate in the workplace.

Somebody else with a pretty common login ID is reading our stuff, and it’s okay. My supervisor is getting right on that. I’m just laughing because they will know who has that login and who posted it on an open forum like that. They are so busted. You are welcome to my postings, whomever you are. I know better than to get really personal on a workplace computer. The lady who thinks workplace computer chats are private? She thinks differently now, and she is, like my ultra-conservative friends with a voice activated virtual assistant, just totally shocked! And I’ll bet that heads are just spinning when they read her posts.

I had a terrific supervisor who gave me probably the best advice ever about typing anything in the workplace: “You can type anything you want — just don’t press send.” Amen to that.

I’ve Lost My Patience

The dictionary defines patience as the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset. Right after I read that? A pop-up appeared for the word tolerance — the ability or willingness to tolerate something, in particular the existence of opinions or behavior that one does not necessarily agree with. I think those two, patience and tolerance, have to go hand in hand, or there’s gonna be trouble in River City, so to speak.

Not an hour ago, I attempted to put new printer cartridges in my fancy printer. My tolerance was low and my patience was waning fast. After paying a good sum of money on second-hand printer cartridges, I discovered that my fancy printer, after software updates, will only accept the name-brand expensive printer cartridges, so I can return the second-hand stuff and reorder the fancy printer cartridges. Wait a few more days for the new fancy cartridges to arrive from Amazon – the true god of all shopping. You have to turn the printer off, rerun the software, and on the third or fourth try, your printer will tell you that it doesn’t recognize your new fancy cartridges, just turn the thing off and re-enter the software. If patience had a level, 10 being you have lots of it and 1 means it’s gone, I’m at about a 7 at this point. I kept trying this for, oh, 45 more minutes and I got several more printer messages. My printer talks to me with messages that test my tolerance. Patience level? Fast becoming a 5. It’s time to walk away from the printer and make fresh (decaffeinated) coffee, because I know that when I return, I will feel better.

When my son was in junior high school, I attended his parent/teacher conference, and one of his teachers greeted me with, “Oh, you’re the mom who threw the printer into the swimming pool.” Oh, how could he tattle on me to his junior high teacher like that? I was so embarrassed and had to admit that yes, I really did that, and after my son dished that printer out of the pool, it worked like a dream. It’s pretty hard to justify that childish behavior to your son’s new teacher. It’s a good thing I no longer have a swimming pool – but I do have a window in my office that opens to the great outdoors. I know when to walk away from this printer.

Like most scenarios in life, everything returns to normal after you give yourself time to step away and re-evaluate the situation. I came back to the printer, updated the software, read a zillion more messages, realized that I am not smarter than this software, the printer finally likes me, makes whizzing noises, sends me happy messages, and prints my pretty color pages again. It’s okay now. Calm is restored. Patience level back to a 9. Thank you, Folgers Coffee, for getting me through this.

We need patience in every aspect of our lives. Just yesterday I had to have lots of it in dealing with an edgy co-worker. I needed patience and tolerance when I got a letter advising my insurance rates are going up again. God just has a way of taking care of all of my needs in ways I don’t even know yet. Two days after I got the notice of my mortgage insurance rate hike? The insuror sent me a check for $400 as a refund that I didn’t know I was getting. The things in life that I seem to lose patience over just aren’t all that important anyway. When I’m driving and I get impatient with the slow driver in front of me, I have to stop and wonder if maybe by driving so slow behind this guy, I have averted an accident that I may have had up ahead. Again, the Christian glass has to be half full and not half empty.

I look back in time and realize how lucky and how blessed I am to have all these nice material things. Right out of college, I lived in a cold, dank, dark basement apartment. The rent was $135.00 per month, and I got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed every square floor tile in the bedroom until it shined. It was my first apartment on my own and I was so proud of it. There was a piece of shag carpeting in the living room on a cement floor with no padding under it – but I painted the walls and made it clean and I was happy. I did not even dream that I might have a nice home some day, with a nice office, and beautiful surroundings, and this fancy schmancy printer. I’m grateful for the blessings, and hope and pray that I learn to have more patience.

A Winner’s Creed

Okay, so I realize that some people just don’t share my enthusiasm for life. To each his own, I guess. Gotta realize we’re all made from a different recipe. I inherited my mother’s knack for trying anything to see if you can achieve it, and she got that from my Grandma, who was successful in her job, in her own business, and in her private life. I believe it boils down to having an attitude of “I think I can” about most endeavors. Sure, I’ve tried things that turned out only “so so,” and after awhile the enthusiasm would wane and I would try something else. But it’s that “nothing ventured, nothing gained” attitude that leads me to try a lot of different things. It boils down to going after what your heart desires, realizing that with education and practice, you can accomplish most anything. We only get so many days on this planet — so many days with our loved ones, so many days to throw our hat into the ring and try something new, go somewhere new, see something new and learn something new.

Here is my Winner’s Creed poem which I have framed on my wall. It’s my favorite.

A Winner’s Creed

If you think you are beaten,
You are;
If you think you dare not,
You don’t.
If you’d like to win.
But think you can’t
It’s almost a cinch you won’t.

If you think you’ll lose,
You’ve lost;
For out in the world we find
Success begins with a person’s faith;|
It’s all in the state of mind.

Life’s battles don’t always go
To the stronger or faster hand;
They go to the one who trusts in God
And always think, “I can.”

Author Unknown

The Office Bully

I’ve been working for forty-six years. Wow. And years ago I thought age 35 was old… I have come to the realization that most executives rely on an office bully to snitch and keep them apprised of what’s what. That person, in my experience, has been a woman who is usually of large stature; she doesn’t wear fancy clothes and lots of makeup; she boasts of her proclivity to be so awesome herself; and she just might have no conscience. She excels at being a narcissist. She is a real company person, totally devoted to being the one that administration looks to for their say on personnel matters, and she doesn’t even know they are using her to tattle on the office staff because in her mind, she is irreplaceable. I worked with one such office bully who reported directly to the partners after she went through our garbage cans each night after we left. And I sat in a new young personnel manager’s office one day after being summoned there as a sounding board because the office bully had written such scathing comments about her in the company email. Another office bully accidentally copied me in on an email to the boss wherein she stated she hoped that soft-spoken employee “x” was out looking for another job instead of just out sick.

These types of people wear their meanness toward others as a badge of honor. They are proud as a peacock when they can get dirt on someone and spread that gossip around the office. And I am again faced with confronting another bully in another office — guess what? I’m over sixty years old now, and I don’t give two solid cares what that bully might think. I work for one of the top employers in the U.S., and they don’t really do drama at work. We don’t need her to snitch and frankly, we are just too busy doing good things and making the world a better place to live in to be concerned with her simple-minded approach in her perceived climb up the ladder. The trash will eventually take itself out.

You can always kill ’em with kindness. And that is exactly what I am doing with the office bully – the golden rule applies. But I have made it clear to her that I will not be subject to her gossip and the buck stops here. When she starts in with negative evil gossip about others, I just let her know that I’m going to tell them. The look of abject horror on her face gives me a shred of satisfaction that I nipped that in the bud. I will be the subject of her next rambling on to some other poor audience, and better me than someone else.

I had a very wise boss who told me that people are more important than jobs. Thankfully, that is one of the mainstays where I work. We employ people of all social classes, of all incomes, of all pay grades, diversities and nationalities. We believe that every single person has worth and something good to contribute to our organization.

We know about the office bully – she still goes running into the boss to snitch. She still lurks around the coffee pot seeking those whom she may devour. And her mouth probably salivates when an unsuspecting new victim arrives whom she can sink her teeth into. But she has no home life. She has few friends aside from immediate family. She has a myriad of illnesses and is very unhealthy. Her social life centers around having her job; and now I am her friend. I treat her with kindness and respect because she deserves that. I stood up to her and did not turn her away. Other staff members have mentioned how much she irritates them, and I impress upon them that it’s always good to treat others the same way you would like to be treated. That is the basis of Christian faith.
“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” Hebrews 13

It’s so easy to be nice to people at church on Sunday morning. There they are, looking all pretty in their nice clothes, smiling and shaking hands with everyone. But that should not end when you walk out of the church on Sunday. Being nice to people who are not nice to you just takes help from God. You must sift through the outward criminality of some souls to realize that the same God who made you doesn’t love you more than someone else. “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” Ephesians 4:29.

Last night, as the office bully was leaving to go home before me, she walked up to tell me that she hopes I have a really nice night. I wished the same for her. I wish that for her for her coming days, weeks and years. I’ll let you know how it turns out.

The Difference Between Men and Women

This is copied from TED talks, but this gentleman said, “If a man speaks in a forest, and his wife cannot hear him, is he still wrong?” You know from whence that came — the old adage that if a tree falls in the forest and nobody hears it, did it still fall? I can probably do marriage counseling and be pretty good at it, because I know the difference between men and women.

It’s more than just the left brain, right brain thing. It’s that men think with logic and reason, and women think with emotion. Now, that is NOT to say that women are illogical and unreasonable, or that men do not have strong emotion! Their brains just process differently.


Let’s take shopping for example. I like to refer to shopping as retail therapy. Women make shopping an endeavor to get the very best deals on things so we can brag about what really great deals we got. “Oh, look, honey, look what I got today and it was marked $10.00 off.” A wise husband, who is adept at letting his wife savor this announcement, already knows that she is ecstatic because the item being on sale warrants the purchase. Most men are not bargain hunters. (Successful shopping, by the way, produces a dopamine response in the brain resulting in a feeling of euphoria.) Send your husband to the store to get a can of beans, and if it looks like the right bean on the front of the can, he will grab the first one he sees, because he is not a bargain hunter! He thinks with logic here — find the beans, get out of the store, and get back to doing something else. That is reasonable. But we girls know the science of bargain hunting to a “T”. We frequent the same stores and watch the newspaper ads for the best deals, and we can make a dollar stretch further than a child extending a piece of chewing gum away from her tiny mouth. We are emotional about that can of beans, and we usually know which can we are after before the hunt. Is it on sale? Will that can save me money? Is this something my family is going to like? (People cook, by the way, not just to provide a meal, but to emotionally please everyone else but themselves. There is no greater joy than for a cook to hear, “I really liked that,” after cooking something for her partner.)

Another huge difference between men and women is the amount of time that any conversational topic will pique their interest. Again, it’s that logic and reason vs. emotion thing. Let’s say our friend Lacey at church just had a baby. Here’s what men think about that: “Lacey from our church just had a baby.” Here’s what women think about that: “OMG, Lacey had her baby! Was it a boy or a girl? What did they name it? How is Lacy doing after having the baby? Did she have her room all ready? Man, the cost of diapers is gonna kill them now. Should I take some food over for her family? I wonder when I can go see them, too.” Go on, ad infinitum, and text all your friends.

Men are not to be condemned for using logic and reason as the basis of their thought process, any more than women should be chastised for thinking on the emotional side. It’s what makes us different. It is what makes us interesting, and fun, and joyous, and these are the traits that make men and women fall in love with each other. And both men and women should be grateful for these differences. Without each of the sexes understanding this about our various thought processes, there will be a lot of ‘you’s thrown about in the marriage. “You” is the one word that should be totally removed from any conversation between a man and a woman. “You always” is probably the leading cause of divorce, or “you don’t ever,” or “why didn’t you,” etc. Replace the “you” with “I”. In every instance, I feel, or I want, or I wish, is so much less condemning.

Considering the way that men process with logic and reason, and women with emotion, try to ask a question instead of make a statement. Any conversation beginning with, “What do you think about…” will gain you a lot more points than just stating your thought process. And never ask a question if you aren’t prepared for an answer. If a woman asks, “Do you mind if my mother comes to stay for a week,” her spouse is between a rock and a hard place here — he’s damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t. Most men, using the principles of logic and reason, know that they need to place keeping their wives happy above their own desire not to have company for an entire week.

It’s okay, guys, to think mostly with logic and reason. It’s okay, girls, to be more outwardly emotional. It’s okay to realize that we both just have brains, be they left or right. Love one another, love your differences, just love those brains before you.

Who Didn’t Know Cheating is Wrong?

People who are born into abject poverty don’t know how poor they are. Those of us who grew up well below the poverty level didn’t know what we didn’t have. I knew that I didn’t have nice clothes like the other kids at school, but I was oh, so happy when my beloved Grandmother pieced together some clothing for me from a big box of things she got from a second-hand store. And I was so very proud to wear the green polyester knit dress that she gave me – and didn’t really care that I wore that dress every day for three weeks. We got one pair of school shoes and one pair of church shoes, and it was a special trip indeed when we went to J.C. Penney to pick out those shoes.

I just knew that when I graduated high school, I did not want to stay. I wanted to go to the big college town in Lincoln, Nebraska, and make something of my life, so I didn’t have to stay in a loveless, dirty hovel in a town where our family was on the bottom rung of society and looked down upon by all the others. My father, a bitterly raging alcoholic, told me he would pay for a one-year course that enabled me to become a licensed practical nurse, like my sisters. Just no. I wanted nothing more than to study business. My oldest sister gave me her high school’s accounting class study kit, and I spent hours upon hours playing with those ledgers and pretending that I ran my own business. But nursing school? To this day, I think nurses have a God-given talent for helping others while they deal with blood and feces and dying and psychology, and I wanted nothing to do with that.

I worked three jobs at one time so I could go to college. Nobody in my family ever went to college, so this was a big deal for me. I was up at the crack of dawn to wash dishes in the dorm cafeteria, went to classes during the day, worked after class hours as a teacher’s assistant, and then worked evenings and nights in a Hilton Hotel coffee shop. And I was near the top of my class. My college roommate, Judy, came home crying hysterically one night because her wealthy parents did not buy her the new car that she wanted – they just bought her some other brand spankin’ new car in a color she hated. I will never forget that. I walked everywhere in Lincoln, Nebraska until I could graduate and make my own car payments. I just didn’t know what I didn’t know. Judy was so used to having everything her heart desired just presented to her by wealthy parents, that it broke her heart not to get exactly what she wanted.

So now we have young college kids who are thrust into the limelight because their parents thought that the almighty dollar should buy their way into a prestigious college. These young adults, just like my college roommate Judy, expect that they will be given the best of everything. It didn’t really dawn on them that they might not get everything they wanted. There was no realization that they might have to study and work to earn entrance into the college of their choice. But I will bet that they were taught right from wrong. I will bet you they learned at a very early age about cheating. And now? Their parents have taught them the sad story about what happens if you get caught.

I don’t begrudge these kids their wealth. It was a very wise pastor of mine, Dr. Richard Eakins, who taught us that perhaps Christ’s own family was wealthy, and that we should be neither unhappy that we don’t have great wealth, nor should we show any indifference to those who have attained great wealth.

What matters is how the wealth was attained, and what price was paid to attain it. How many young adults attended elite colleges because they rode in on the coattails of their rich parents’ donations? I worked at a local university and I can tell you it happens all the time. If your parents are wealthy judges or lawyers or big donors? You most likely get a free ride. One local college motto is, “Pay your fee? Get your B.”

I learned not to be cheating when I was very small. As we sat at our metal desks in my little grade school, our teachers admonished us not to be looking at other peoples’ papers to answers. I still go to college in my sixties, just for the learning experience and to be around young people, and we are told point blank that if you are caught cheating you will be expelled. But who will expel the parents who cheat to get their kids in?