I'm Sworn to Secrecy

Since I keep a journal here on Rememorandom, I've got something very important to ramble on about.

Recall, earlier this year I was selected by the church body to become a deacon.  I was humbled and after prayerful consideration, I accepted.  The next step was to be tested, so to speak.  Had to go to to a room filled with the current deacons and be questioned about my faith, doctrinal issues, those sorts of things.  I wasn't expecting the interrogation I got, especially not the vitriol I received.  After the whole fiasco, I was found to be lacking the spiritual maturity they required and was rejected.  (To be fair, 8/12 of the men voted in my favor, though this majority did not meet the qualifications set in the church's bylaws.)

To be honest, I was hurt and angry.  I was judgmental.  I was disappointed.  I was grieved.  In my mind, I was more qualified to be a deacon than several of the men sitting in that room.  I desired to impact the world, to impact the church, to love on people, to help, to go, to serve.  These were the things that I didn't see the deacons doing.  How dare they deny me?  I contented myself saying that you didn't have to be a deacon to serve and that God was in control.

I've spent the last six months growing in leaps and bounds in my faith.  My reliance on God has increased tenfold.  My devotion to reading and studying the Word has grown exponentially.  I've changed in my opinions on the dividing topics, growing even more firm in my beliefs about them.  I'm convinced that the bible speaks very clearly and that their opinions are based on more than just the bible.  But through all of my growth I've also layered myself in cynicism.  My ability to trust has wavered.  My faith in my local church has waned to non-existent.  My righteous anger has simmered.

The sad thing is that this is so uncharacteristic of me that it's not funny.  I'm an extremely happy optimist.  I believe in the goodness of people to a point well past logic and reason.  I'm not naive, I'm too much a Realist for that, but I'm hopeful.  And yet, over these last few months, I've changed my outlook, and I hate it.  I'm disappointed with myself and my scorn.  I realize that I'm wanting people to be held to a higher standard when I myself am regressing.  I'm expecting maturity from a group of people that have had very little rearing. Many are on the milk still, so to speak, and my expectations from them are unrealistic.

So I've resolved myself to do better.  To think kinder.  To love more.  To pour myself out until I'm drained dry.  If I'm wanting change, then let it be seen in me.

Flash forward to last night.  Skipping all the details, I was selected to serve on the pastor search committee, and last night was my first meeting.  (My church has been without a senior pastor for a long time now and tension is very high within the church.  Perhaps this is part of the reason why there have been so many problems.)  I received a packet of information, and among it was a sheet detailing the qualifications for its members.  I inwardly chuckled at the first two: must be spiritually mature and must be respected by the church to be competent and responsible.

The irony of being qualified to select the next pastor for the church and yet being unqualified to be a deacon of said church is more than a little amusing.

So what's the point?  The point is that I'm learning to rely on God more, to look to Him more, and to trust in Him.  On the PSC I am bound to confidentiality, something that I intend on taking very seriously.  Already after one meeting there are things that I would love to talk about and get off my shoulders, but I can't.  To ramifications could be tremendous.  Instead, I'll pray and look for guidance.  And I also ask, dear Readers, that you hold me and my church up whenever it crosses your mind.  I've a feeling that things are gonna be tough, but I've no doubts that God will reign supremely over everything.

Have a merry Christmas, everyone.

Not This Crap Again

Oh what joy it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh!

And if that horse should, say, break its leg or stumble?  Joy mayn't last long.

As some of you know, a little over a year ago I had some trying circumstances at work.  Everyone was reduced to four-day weeks, effectively cutting everyone's pay by 20%.  A few people were laid off and/or let go.  Then paychecks started arriving late, sometimes very, very, very late.  I continued working four-day weeks up until Avonlea was born, when some craziness happened and suddenly I was paid everything I was owed and put back on five-day weeks.

Avonlea is six-point-four months old now.  No problems.  Until today.  "Paychecks are going to be late," I was told.  "How late?" I ask.  "Don't know."  And I go and ask the President, who also doesn't know.  "Not before Christmas, I guess," I say.  "Nu-uh."  Sigh.  The most wonderful time of the year, indeed.

In addition, I've worked here at the MLC for two-and-a-half years now, and every year our insurance plan has changed.  This year we had a $6k deductible and a $10k OOP.  Rather high, I think.  Consider: Keisha had an emergency C-section to deliver Avonlea, followed by a few days hospital stay; Keisha fell and had some x-rays and urgent care; Keisha and Avonlea had some routine medical stuff.  Through all of this, we still haven't hit our deductible.  But wait, there's more.  Our new-and-improved plan, effective 1/1/2012, changes everything.  Now we're looking forward to a $10k deductible and a $12k OOP!

If it sounds like I'm aggravated at the MLC, then you may be on to something.  It's hard to have a passion to want to work if you don't feel valued.  It's also hard when you get very little communication between the Chief Potentates and us brave peons.  (Days can pass without so much as a "hullo.")  Worst of all, it's hard to want to work when you're not getting paid.  Dang it, I want to work and I want to be a good little boy and I want my money!  Why is this so difficult?

I'm hoping/banking on getting paid next week.  But whether I do or not, I'm not going to let it spoil my first Christmas with Avonlea and the last of my vacation time for the year.  I'll get it when I get it.  Until then, the Dude abides.

Post Script: The pun is intentional.

Things That Get Under My Skin: A Portrait of Personality

1.  People not using their turn signals.
2.  People pulling out in front of other people.
3.  Very liberal people.
4.  Very conservative people.
4.5.  Inconsiderate people.
5.  People who think they are always right.
6.  People who insist that their thinking and opinions are always better.
7.  Communication breakdowns and failures.
8.  The Sound of Music.
9.  Whining and complaining.
10.  Haters.
11.  Inconsiderate people.
12.  People bothering me when Lost is on.
13.  Needles.  (Well, this one’s obvious, given the title of this post.)
14.  Bad instructions.
15.  Talkers at the movies.
15.7  Inconsiderate people.
16.  Spilling water all over the place when I’m doing dishes.
17.  Stuff breaking that ain’t s’posed to break.
18.  Facebook.
19.  Mega-man, in all its glory and fun, being too dang hard at times.
20.  Anti-military sentiments.
20.3  Inconsiderate people.
20.3.b.  Rude people towards cashiers, waiters, etc.
20.3.c.  Rude cashiers, waiters, etc.
21.  Mammy’s voice in Gone with the Wind.
22.  Sending an email to a professor (or co-worker) that’s long and detailed and getting a one-word response.

“The most important single ingredient in the formula of success is knowing how to get along with people.”—Theodore Roosevelt

Looking back at this list, it’s obvious to me what really sticks out.  When people don’t take the time to think before they speak, when they speak just to speak, to hear the sound of their own voice, or when they speak hurtful things, it rankles me.  There are people in this world that think before they speak, and there are people that say whatever’s on the tip of their tongue.  There are people who challenge everything and everyone, and there are people who are easy to please.  There are people who are never satisfied and there are people who always are.

I’ve said for many years that communication issues are why there are so many problems.  Some people can’t articulate their thoughts well and they say one thing but mean another.  For better or worse, what’s said is said, and that’s what’s acted on.  Some people speak well and clearly, precise and to the point, and this may irk somebody else.

We’re all human and we must learn to work with people.  That’s part of life.  I’m fine with working with people, or I’m okay to work alone, too.  I feel like I’m easy to work with.  I don’t care to do my part, and I don’t care to do other people’s parts every once in a while, either.  I always try to be tactful in my communication, and I’m always considerate and respectful.

A company I worked for a few years ago had all of their employees do a personality test called the Strength Development Inventory.  We answered many questions and What if situations, and a few weeks later we all had a seminar.  The results divided up people into one of seven categories: Red, Red-Green, Green, Green-Blue, Blue, Blue-Red, and Hub.  Our primary category was where we were most of the time in our life, when things are going normal.  Our secondary category was where we go when there is conflict.  The results pegged me dead on.

Blue people are “people pleasers.”  They’re eager to get things done by doing whatever it takes.  They’re often said to have big hearts that are easily bruised and offended.  Green people are “analyzers.”  They spend time thinking through their work, making sure that what is done is done efficiently and correct.  Red people are very “ambitious and motivated.”  Red people are typically supervisors or bosses and they often are guided by their own sense of self-motivation.  They are the risk takers.  (The mixed colors take elements of both, and the Hub is a combo of all three.)

In conflict, Blue people turn belly up and do whatever it takes to be out of conflict.  They dislike conflict with a passion.  Green people tend to stick to their analysis, believing that their work is correct and well thought out.  Red people tend to enjoy a little conflict, believing that it gets things done; however, Red people tend to blow up during conflict, too, and their tempers are notorious.

There’s no singular good or bad color group.  All have plusses and minuses.  The point of the SDI test is to get teams and people to learn how to work together.  A group of people that have an understanding of each other is going to be more productive than a group of people that don’t.

These same traits follow over into life outside of work, too.  Spouse.  Friends.  Family.  Neighbor.  Blogger.  Everybody has their own, unique personality, and if we’re going to succeed at humanity, then we’ve got to learn to work with people.  We don’t always have to get our way to be happy.  We don’t always have to ride shotgun.  We don’t always have to voice our opinions, even if we think they’re the better idea.  We don’t always have to be jerks, cause whether you realize it or not, you’re a jerk to someone.  You get on somebody’s nerves, and that makes you a jerk.  I’m a jerk.  You’re a jerk.  We’re all just a globe full of jerks, trying to get by as best we can.

That said, I am a Blue-Green person, and in conflict I go more Blue-Green.  I tend to analyze everything before I act, but my analysis is also rooted in my desire to work well and appease others.  My own self-desires often suffer or go unmentioned because I want everybody else to be happy.  Red people make me nervous at times, but usually only when they’re in conflict mode.  I do my best to get the job done, but I weigh the risks heavily, too.  An example seems applicable.

Me:  “I wanna play Mario Kart.”
Person A:  “Mario Kart’s lame and stupid.  I don’t like it.  I want to play WarioWare.”
Me:  “Uh…  okay.  I’m sorry.  We’ll play WarioWare.” 
Person B:  “Meh, I could go for either one.  Doesn’t matter to me.”
Person A:  “Yeah, well, if we play Mario Kart then I’m not playing.”
Me:  “We’ll play WarioWare.”

This conversation has never happened, but it easily identifies people for what color they are.  I end up feeling lame and stupid, like my opinion isn’t good enough for Person A.  Obviously if Mario Kart is lame and stupid, somebody that plays it is, too, right?  But the question is whether or not Person A meant that.  A Blue person would feel that way whether it was meant or not, sadly, and would never say anything about it.  Person A probably doesn’t mean that I am stupid and lame or he wouldn’t be hanging out with me in the first place, but he also doesn’t realize the way he’s speaking, either.

The principles of the SDI test have stuck with me for over two years now.  I think about it when I deal with people.  Above everything I want people to get along.  I want people to be considerate and respectful of other people.  Be humble instead of proud and opinionated.  Be nice instead of jumping down someone’s throat.  Think, people, before you act.  There’s nothing wrong with having an opinion and insisting you get your way, but when it’s that way all the time, then there’s a conflict.  Whether you realize it or not, you’re affecting somebody.

If you ever get a chance to take the SDI test, do so.  And please, remember the golden rule and think before you act.

Random Bits and Pieces

• Lost premiers the final season tonight!
• You can give blood every 56 days.  How long has it been for you?
• Two posts tomorrow: Writing Wednesdays and a Lost rehash.
• You can win an Apple iPad from the Stuff Christian’s Like blog, a satirical Christian blog on pop culture and the like.
• Eat Belgian waffles, not Belgians.

The Weekend: A Simple Recap

Quite a cram-packed weekend.  The snowstorm came on Friday, dumping around four inches or so in OBKY.  When I took Stella out Saturday morning the stuff was so deep around Stewartland that she was covered up to almost her neck.  Stella, with her thick hair, did not like it.

Friday night Keisha and I watched Monsters Versus Aliens.  It had several funny parts and an okay plot, but it didn’t do it for me.  Definitely not as good as some other Dreamworks animated films, but better than others.

Saturday morning we watched Valkyrie.  I’m not sure what the point is in watching a movie where you know the ending, but I did watch it.  Maybe I was interested in seeing people oppose Hitler.  Regardless, the ending was (predictably) sad.

Saturday afternoon/evening we went out and ate with some friends.  Then we came back to Stewartland and played Monopoly for a few hours.  I love playing board games.  Scrabble is definitely one of my favorites.  Apples to Apples is fun, too.  After Monopoly was over we played Mario Party for the Wii, staying up late, since church was canceled.

Sunday afternoon we went to the homeless shelter and held the worship service.  I didn’t feel too good.  I woke up with a headache and a stuffy nose and was kind of sick at my stomach a bit.  But I still played guitar and sang.  In the cold room of the shelter my fingers were chilled and I sucked it up with the guitar and my stuffiness made my voice off, but in the end we worshipped God with our hearts, and that’s all that matters.

Sunday night we watched a bit of the Grammy’s (not sure why), but I soon gave up.  I went upstairs and read for an hour or so.  I’m about 60% through Green now.  Hopefully I’ll start Best Served Cold before the week ends.

I had an overwhelming response to my giveaway of Tea with Hezbollah, which I reviewed here.  There were two entries.  I had two books.  That said, congratulations Dave and Alex.  Please send me an email with your mailing address and I’ll ship these books out pronto.  (Also, Kris, I’ll ship you the Abercrombie books, too.  I got your address.)

That’s it.  This bitter tasting bile that’s in my mouth prohibits me from going any farther.  The emptiness in my gut causes a lapsing in my brain and my ability to think coherently and reasonably suffers.  I try to push it out of my head but it seeps in if I don’t keep it in check.  People never cease to amaze me.

December

Happy December everyone. It's cold, bleak, and grey! Good luck to you all, with hopes that you make it through the hard month. And think, next month is basically a continuation of this one, just in a different year. I do like the winter, not as much as the fall, but pretty good, nonetheless. It makes me wanna put on old, tattered grey robes, grow a long white and whispy goatee and become a monk or something. A wizened man, all robed and thin. Or maybe it makes me wanna stay indoors where it's warm (sometimes extremely warm) and dry, away from the harshness of December...

This is my December.

Goodbye, friends, and farewell to arms. Have a safe and pleasant season. It promises to be a fun one. And our tree looks better than yours. And our stockings. And our nativity scene. And our wreathes. And I'm really tired, having studied macroeconomics for a while, and open channel hydraulics, and I haven't been sleeping much lately, and sometimes, y'know, you just feel like writing something that is more stream-of-conscience, while at the same time continuing on with a very, very long (possibly a run-on (I LOVE PARENTHESIS!!!)) sentence.
Rest in peace, Reginald. Your children are prospering, and Horatio has given birth itself, so now there are many, many of you. There'll possibly be more on this later. For now, I think I'll bite the bullet (trite) and hit the books (cliche).

Rosebud.