SelahV Today by hariette petersen

FROM SPIRITUAL TO MUNDANE "FISHY" STUFF AND "MOB MENTALITY"

Just taking a quick break from my series on Thessalonians to mention a mundane matter.  Fishy stuff, and Mob mentality.

I've been watching the speculations of pundits, spectacles of health-care town hall meetings, and explanations from politicians and meeting attendees for some time now.  Last night I was listening to one news show, and a panel was trying to figure out why the White House and politicians were so adamant about calling vocal citizens "mobs".  Some of the discussion hit upon the distant drumming of these people not being representative of Americans.  The pro-health-care reformers and single-payer proponents are calling their opposition crazies, and dangerously reminiscent of Tim McVeigh anger, and militant enthusiasts.  So, it occurred to me that possibly I have an answer for those pundits who are wondering why The White House wants everyone in America to report their neighbors' casual conversations, forwarded emails, websites, ETC. (my newspaper column, COMMON MATTERS), to [email protected]. *

Now, to be quite clear, I don't have the answer, just an answer.  Who could possibly know the mind of the present administration?  They're never clear.  But in light of the following statement by President-elect Obama, I submit it may be part of the reason:

"We cannot continue to rely only on our military in order to achieve the national security objectives that we've set.  We have to have a Civilian National Security Force that's just as powerful, just as strong, just as well funded..."?

Could calling the thousands of citizens protesting health-care and government invasion of their lives have rendered these opposing voices as "mobs", "crazies" and "fear mongers" have another goal in mind?  Could it be just the fuel our now, duly elected, President Obama needs to form this National Security Force, he thinks we need?  Could this National Security Force be the force to reckon with these "right-wing fringe groups", "astroturfers", "organized", "orchestrated", "manufactured" people, who are "distorting the facts" and creating fear in the hearts of the real America?  Could we need a "Force" to assist city police departments, to control these "angry, yelling" crowds who may swell all the more, the more the government ignores their voices?  Is this the force we need to enforce the rules of that HATE Bill that's been passed?  I don't know.

It's hard to discern which people will be considered "mobs", "haters", and "fear mongers".

Did you hear about that one man who got bullied by some thugs who didn't like him handing out flags and buttons that said, "don't tread on me"?  Yep.  Happened last week.  He was an African American Republican and some guys (one, another African American), knocked him down to the ground and called him the "N" word.  Is that the kind of "mob" they are talking about?  Or is it just "mobs" of citizens who are tired of being ignored by their government and saying so?  You know..."mobs" of housewives, nurses, doctors, retired salesmen, and white-haired old ladies and veterans (who know what the VA health-care delivers).

This makes me wonder, if all these citizens with "mob mentality" that politicians, today, are citing will someday be silenced with greater force than ever imagined in America?  Surely not.  This administration doesn't seem too worried about people intimidating people.  Our Attorney General's office just quashed the prosecution of the Black Panther dudes who showed up with a billy-club at the voting booths last November, so why would they be disturbed by a four folks who jostled a man who was giving away flags and buttons saying "don't tread on me" at one of those town-hall meetings?

I don't know about you folks, but I've never considered myself part of a "mob".  I've had times when I did not like what I saw my government doing, and even went to a couple of town hall meetings to voice an opinion.  That was years ago, however.  I never did anything that would or could be classified as a "mob".  I listened to each side.  I tape-recorded their words.  I wrote letters, even hand-delivered a couple to some politicians.  When that didn't do much, I started a newspaper.

That was then.  Today, well...I'm gonna just go to a few town hall meetings and see for myself what all the fuss is about.  And I'm gonna write on-line what I think about it while I still can.  selahV

* [UPDATE, Aug. 17, 09...The White House disabled the email address for reporting "fishy" emails and conversations among Americans.  Guess they realized that was rude and an invasion of privacy.  Why else would they remove it, after requesting information?] 

AN EXTRA DAY

It's February 29th, Leap Year.

We get an extra day today!  Isn't that grand?

People I've known who were born on this day have told me that they've always felt cheated.  They had no birthday to celebrate each year because it only came around every four years.  That would be strange, don't you think?

Instead of losing three days in four years, I gain an extra day.  What will I do with it?  Will I use it wisely or fritter it away?  I'm not sure what I'll do with it.  I need to rake the leaves and clean out my flowerbeds.  Don't think my back would let me do that.

I should get started organizing a yardsale to clear out my garage so my hubby can move his weight system into it.  Such a boring thing to do.

It's Friday and I would like to go see my son's little girls in Texas for lunch at school.  It's such a beautiful day and my fever is gone.  That would be fun.

I want to be like a puffy dandelion and let the wind blow upon me and carry me where it would.  I'll let the Lord lead me by His Spirit with each moment.  I'll give my extra day back to Him and rejoice in it!  It's His anyway.  selahV

[copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2008]

BETWEEN THE RUBBER AND THE ROAD

I absolutely hate shopping for cars.  I actually don't much like shopping at all---even grocery shopping.  But automobiles probably tops the list on things I abhor shopping for.  If it wasn't for the fact that we no longer have any reliable transportation and the rust is what holds our 1994 van together, we wouldn't even be thinking of purchasing a new vehicle.  However, it costs us in gas each month what it would cost most folks for a new car payment.  We get about 8 miles to the gallon as we calculate it.

At present, we are taking advantage of the fact that auto dealers are looking to get rid of inventory before 2007 changes to 2008.  We're trying to find a dependable vehicle, with low mileage that gives us high mileage for the amount of gas we put in the tank.  Our goal is simple---the most for the least.  It's a big decision for us because we are on an extremely limited income these days with Social Security Disability and a part-time job in accordance with the Social Security guidelines.  If we make over one dollar of their designated guidelines, we lose the whole check--not part of it---all of it.

Unfortunately, my husband's 4-hour a day job as a custodian/maintenance man for a little private Christian school situated two blocks from our house has created such a dilemma.  When we were forced to apply for early Social Security due to my husband's congestive heart failure, we were told he could only make a pittance of an amount for the year.  Whether he worked or I worked, it made no difference.  If we wanted to keep the 1,242-dollars each month, he couldn't make very much to offset our income of the check.  Since he couldn't return to full-time work anyway, we were grateful the Lord provided this job that afforded him the opportunity to only work 4 hours a day.  His stamina is less since his open-heart surgery and since it fell under the government guidelines, it seemed divinely appointed.

Enter the Disability status.  He was assigned disability status because his heart is so damaged it only pumps out blood to the rest of his body at a 38% rate.  Normal is closer to 65.  28% makes you a candidate for a heart transplant.  So that gives you an idea of how things shape up.  Unbeknownest to us, the disability status lowers the amount of income we can make by issuing a monthly amount---not a yearly amount.  Because my husband's job is filled with time off due to school vacations and breaks, it would average out to less than the yearly minimum---but not the monthly during the months he is actively working.

So what's a person to do?  At this writing we are looking forward (or NOT) to an appointment January 2nd with the Social Security Administration to see if we have violated their rules and regulations.  Scary.  If we have, we could end up having to pay back the checks we've already spent for food, gas, medicine and rent.  And the upside is that we may be able to keep the little janitorial job--but will have to take a cut in pay to accomodate the newly acquired guidelines.  Plus---we are privileged to have to begin paying Medicare 98.00 a month beginning in March even though we are cutting our income of twice that.  Senseless.  It all seems so senseless.  But that is the way it goes.  No way around it.  Guidelines are guidelines.  Charts are charts.  And we are simply numbers in the scheme of things.

I share this, not for sympathy, but for prayer.  We seek God's intervention that we will not have to return any money that we don't have.  We seek to be able to receive an exception to the rules for the income he makes and pray that the monthly checks will continue without interruption.  These are some tall order requests, friends.

While we were waiting for a Social Security representative the other day to set up an appointment and give us some information, we met a disabled man who'd exceeded his income allowance by twenty dollars.  They immediately stopped his check.  He will have to refile.  I pray for this man that they get it straightened out quickly.  It was quite obvious that he was not able to make it without the check.

While we consider the same possibilities, I am still reminded that my God is sufficient to meet all my needs.  We may find ourselves between the rubber and the road soon, but I will still put my trust in God--not in chariots and horses.  You see, I've learned that when the road narrows and appears dark, the Lord is at His best to show the light beyond it.  selahV

THREE A.M.

Does it matter what time it is?  It didn't to me.

I awoke and had no idea what time it was.  Just lay in the dark thinking how refreshed I felt from sleeping.  My dog (the same Kelsie who belongs to my daughter) stirred at my feet.  I lay thinking.  I could see it was still dark outside but thought it must be close to dawn.  I felt at peace.  Rested. 

Then it began.

A myriad of thoughts zipped through my mind.  Pleasant thoughts.  Things I'd said, things I'd done--things others had said and done.  From out of nowhere came accusations.  You didn't mean it the way you said it.  You did that just to make yourself look good.  You don't think she really cares about you, do you?  Remember how she sounded on the phone?  He only did that because he wanted attention.  Do you really think he cares?  My heartbeat picked up speed.

I have no idea how long I actually lay there letting those thoughts have power over my brain.  But at some point I recognized I had a "thief" in the house.  Joyful moments were pulverized with innuendo.  Wonderful conversations--riddled with supspicion.  Whispers.  Worthless.  Hopeless.  Useless.  My rest captured in the dark of the night; my peace snatched from my grasp.

Then I came to myself.  Another whisper, "Jesus."  Again and again his name came into my thoughts; "Let Me in.  Let Me in."  I began to recite, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, sweetest name I know, fills my every longing, keeps me singing as I go."  The melody joined the song of silent praise thundering in my heart.  My mind danced in the calm and balm of the Lord's presence.  And the "thief" was no more.

I rose to let the dog out.  I glanced at the clock.  It was three a.m., and I wanted you to know it matters.  No matter what time it is; it matters that Jesus be on your mind, in your heart and on your lips.  It really matters.  [copyrighted, 2007, selahV]

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

From my keyboard to yours.

For over three weeks now, I've been experiencing spyware attachments to my former blogs on blogspot and wordpress.  It has been a nightmare.  To date, I am still unable to log on to my own sites to post new blogs, delete old ones or manage comments.  I don't know all that is entailed with the technical issues.  It's all being investigated as I type.   One thing is certain, it is not fun.

My greatest desire is to write.  I believe it is my calling to write.  When I purchased this computer many moons ago, I never took the sticker off my keyboard.  It reads: "THE WORLD AT YOUR FINGERTIPS".  I find that rather ironic.  As I have attempted to reach the world via my fingertips, the world has somehow reached in and cracked my knuckles.  My stepmother use to do that.

When I was a little girl, around age eight, she was teaching me how to snap greenbeans.  I was enjoying the pop of those freshly picked veggies when my stepmother whacked me on the knuckles and snipped, "No, no, no!  You are doing it all wrong!"

Now I ask you, dear readers, how many ways are there to break a blasted greenbean?  I watched my stepmother repeat the process and I tried again.  Whack!  Down came the dull side of the knife blade across my fingers.  Of course I cried.  But the lesson I learned is that there are some people--no matter how closely you watch them, no matter how attentive you are to instructions--you will NEVER be able to please them.  I never did learn how to snap beans her way.  I did learn to break them in pieces my way.  And three decades later, I managed to plant, harvest, snap and can hundreds of quarts of those little green devils.

Today, I sit at my computer.  It's not the same computer I bought many moons ago.  I've had it gutted and reconstructed from scratch.  Most folks who look at it think that it is a Compac Presario.  It's not.  I have a dear friend back in Kentucky who is a computer genius.  He considers taking these wire-laced, tube-filled electronic plastic brains apart and putting them back together tinkering.  He does it for a huge company for a living.  Wish he was here now.

But he isn't.  And so my only hope is to trust this piece of ornery equipment, with all its corrupted software to the experts in Oklahoma.  (And some techs in cyberland)  And whether or not I get to continue writing will be left entirely in the palms of God's hands.  Another irony.  Right above the sticker that says "the world at your fingertips", is another homemade phrase I printed out a long time ago to remind me what to do when life presented me with problems I had no idea how to handle.  It reads: "LET GO AND LET GOD."

Today I guess that's all I need to do as I begin new construction in cyberblogetics. (I made up that word.)

Bear with me my friends, as I hammer out the technical difficulties, twist the screws a bit tighter and loosen a few nuts and bolts.  Maybe, just maybe the New Year will prove to be better than the last few years I've endured.  I've signed up for this blog and it is costing me cashola.  If this one proves to be no better than the free ones and I have further complications, I will know before January 27th--the day my free trial runs out.  And then I guess my fingertips will no longer reach the world.  One must know their limitations, ya know!