Declaration of Independence & Obamacare

So much for the peace and quiet of a fall Saturday morning. Well, it's still quiet, but the peace has been altered by our dear President and his "if you like your policy, you can keep your policy" and it will "cut the cost of a typical family's premium by up to $2,500 a year" lies. Our policy has been cancelled and will not renew at the end of this year. Today is the first day I can go see what is available (btw, thanks for a letter in Aug that makes me wait & wonder until Nov 15th to see how our budget is going to be effected!)

Apparently, we are not a typical family, which comes as a shock to no one! We, of the 2 income working, double wide living, sharing a vehicle, saving for a yearly vacation, proudly trying to stand on our own 2 (er, 4) feet variety, are going to pay for the savings of 1-2 other families. First glance of the new options shows that at best our insurance will go up $2400/year. That’s a lot more than we save for that 1 vacation a year. That’s a lot more than my much appreciated raise last year, too.

 Now, we could go check out the savings that’s offered over on the Affordable Care Act web-site. We could. Here’s the deal. I am an American.  As an American, by the grace of God and the sacrifice of our military, I have been given certain rights. Rights that I do not and will not take for granted: the right to be free from a tyrannical government, the right to make my own way in this world, the right to succeed without help from the government.

Maybe it’s stubbornness and pride that causes me to be this way. Some think being stubborn and proud is a bad thing. Then again, maybe it was stubbornness and pride that helped Thomas Jefferson pen the Declaration of Independence, or the Wright Brothers invent flight, or Rosa Parks keep her seat.

I guess, at this time, our decision is that we will pay the extra money. Not because we want to – that’s for sure. No, we will pay it because we can. We will have to make adjustments, tighten the belt as they say. Things sure won’t be easier around here. This is basically my personal declaration of independence. Thankfully, and again, by the grace of God, I do not need the government’s help. And, by my momma's good raising, I am wise enough not to follow the crowd (if everyone jumped off the bridge, etc.). Am I stubborn, prideful, or a patriot? Maybe, just maybe, I am all of the above.

What have you done for me lately?

Yesterday, our pastor and family were on vacation and so we had a "prayer & share" type service. I am usually asked to organize the group and sometimes I even try to tie it all together for a bible lesson. This week's Bible readings were: Exodus 32:1-14, Psalm 106, Philippians 4:1-9. I admit I struggled with a way tie the story of the golden calf in Exodus and Paul's closing letter to the Philippians. Prayed a little and this poem came to be:

What Have You Done for Me Lately?

Moses went up on the mountain
To have a little talk with the Lord
The people started to get antsy,
They were grouchy, impatient and bored
Now it was just a while back they'd fled Egypt
Watched Pharoh defeated quite greatly
But there at the base of the mountain,
They asked "What have You done for me lately?"

Then one day when they were hungry
Afraid that they surely would die,
They cried out to God, He sent Manna
Do you suppose they were hoping for pie?
'Cause soon enough they were unhappy,
Their whining angered the good Lord greatly
With mouthfuls of the food of the angels,
They asked, "What have You done for me lately?"

Paul wrote a letter to the Phillipians,
To acknowledge their hard work and love.
Ministering, teaching, and praising.
Sharing the Good News from above.
The group had once worked together,
But there was one thing that troubled Paul greatly,
Two angry women who couldn't let it go
Asking, "What have You done for me lately?"

You know there are times in our own lives
When things just aren't going our way.
We start with the best of intentions
But our world is just gloomy and gray.
It's in those moments we should remember,
How the Lord has blessed us so greatly.
Think on what's good and just praise him
Not ask, "What have you done for me lately?"

Carrie Oehler
10/5/14

Female Soldiers in the "War on Women"

This should gain me a lot of followers. [sarcastic snort!]

I have come to the opinion that the largest enemy in this so-called war on women is other women. We have created a War on Women within ourselves. Think about it. We have 2-3 generations of young women who somehow believe that being an airhead makes them more attractive. They have been taught that a low cut blouse and a cute little confused laugh will open doors. At the same time, we have determined that any woman who is not brilliant in her field is bringing us down. A woman who is"just" a secretary, or "just" a stay-at-home mom is somehow less than a woman who has taken on "the man". We have placed such unreasonable expectations on ourselves.  We want brilliant children, a successful career, perfectly clean and decorated homes, to be president of every volunteer organization and to run a marathon every year. Even men are shaking their heads in disbelief.

Because we believe that we are equal to men we have forgotten how to be ladies. We allow filth and garbage into our minds and spew it out as if it were not the least bit detrimental. We have allowed immodest clothing to become the status quo. Then we seem surprised that men leer or when we aren't taken seriously. We look the other way when too much skin is shown and not because of embarrassment, but because of political correctness. On one hand we have embraced a culture that says, "don't judge. Let me do my own thing. Let me express myself." While at the exact same time we can be absolutely cruel with our back-stabbing criticism of any woman who  dares not to conform to the currently accepted fashion uniform. We tear each other down like vultures. This tearing down damages a woman's confidence and sense of self-worth which perpetuates the acceptance of abuse or unfairness.

We have emasculated men using every means possible: television, commercials, litigation, playing relationship games, etc. Now we wonder where all the "real" men have gone. We have assumed roles in marriage that we were never designed to hold. Then we are angry when men don't do their part. We accept the commonality of cohabitation instead of demanding that men respect us enough to make a  covenant before God or at the very least a legal commitment.

We encouraged women to fight for the right to selfishly end a healthy pregnancy and have given little regard to the physical, mental, or emotional damage such an act can cause.  We believe that no one should tell us what to do, but we don't think for ourselves or stay informed of current issues. We end up following the herd like sheep and then when we arrive at the edge of the cliff we look for someone else to blame.

I didn't really think it was true, but there is a raging war on women.  Unfortunately, the charge is being led by women.

My Granny

My Granny has a servant’s heart

It’s the legacy she’ll leave

Many stars adorn her crown

On that you can believe.

 

Her life of serving started,

When she was still quiet young

Her mom was sick and in the bed

Leaving chores and little ones.

 

So my Granny had to grow up fast

Be strong and take the lead

Of ironing, washing, cooking

For the family she must feed

 

Then there came September

Of Nineteen Forty-One

When she said “I do”, she knew

Exactly what she’d done.

 

JW joined the Army

As the men did in that day

When he left to serve they knew

A child was on the way.

 

Next they moved to Dallas

To partake of city life

President of P.T.A.

Good mother, loving wife.

 

Life was kind of hectic

She was almost forty-one

And that is when she found out

God’s blessings were not done.

 

I guess things are different now

From how they were back then

But if family needed help,

Sometimes they just moved in.

And if they couldn’t come to her

Then she would go and stay,

Take care of them ‘til they were strong

And then be on her way.

After sixty years of marriage

Bad health put him to bed

My Granny held on dearly

To the vows she once had said.

 

So when he needed constant care

My Granny went along

The thought of living someplace else

To her, it just seemed wrong.

 

I know it seems that work, work, work

Was all she had to do,

But my Granny knew a secret

That I will share with you.

 

It’s really very simple,

You don’t have to be too smart

The secret to a happy life

Is to be a child at heart

 

So she’d play with you for hours

Cross-legged on the floor

Pretty dolls and plastic men

Great fun you can be sure

 

That’s why the kids a walking

In the from-school-to-home parade

Would often stop and have a snack

Or glass of lemonade

 

I know I won’t inherit

Fancy cars or diamond rings

But I have come to see

The best things in life aren’t things

 

Of all the gifts she gave to us

The best we could receive

Is a servant’s heart like Granny’s

That’s the legacy she’ll leave.

 

 

Carrie Oehler

2006

Organized vs. Chaos

This morning I wanted (wanted is not really the right word...) to look at the options for health insurance, since our sweet little policy did not survive the Affordable (HA!) Care Act. For the last year, we have been able to keep our old policy (at an increased rate, of course!!), but will soon have to switch over to an approved plan.

{FLASHBACK: “If you already have health insurance, the only thing that will change for you under this plan is the amount of money you will spend on premiums. That will be less.” ~ Pres. Obama} Lying, unpatriotic, immoral, self-centered jack-...but I digress.

Back to the point of this post, which is my organized chaos life, I get to the insurance website and they force me to log in. I try every combination of member ID and password I can imagine. Nope. Not. Try Again. DANG! I hate to click "forgot password". They always ask a bunch of questions I have even less of a chance of remembering than the actual password. Ugh! I finally give in. Click and wince.  I am stumped on the very first question: Member number. Now I have to go find my card, which requires digging in my purse to find my wallet, then sorting through a jillion member cards, discount offers, expired coupons, and receipts. I found it! And there, written ever so neatly on a sticky note on the back of the card, is my user name and password.

Ya know? That was a pretty good idea. Apparently, I have been down this seek and find road before. I tried to plan for the next time and be organized, but in the chaos I had forgotten. I have read books, joined on-line groups, and observed organized friends. I grasp the concept of planning and organization. I struggle with the implementation. Most of the time I don’t care (which could be part of the problem) I just accept the chaos and move on to the next fire that will need stomping. Then there are times it really makes me crazy. Those are the scary times. The times when closets get cleaned out. The times when I dig out the old label maker. The times when stores like the Container Store, Walmart, & Office Max get a little richer.

I'm not there yet, but I feel it coming. I guess I need to remember:

 

Keather & Henda

Last night, I was asked that if I ever blogged about my two best friends that I would change the names to protect the innocent. Ha! That’s a laugh! Innocent? If they were innocent, we probably wouldn’t be best friends!

Anywho, that request inspired me to write a little about my friends: Keather & Henda.  We have been friends since the beginning of the earth. No, seriously. We graduated together in 1990, so you could truthfully say that we have been friends since The Big Bangs! (geez, I crack me up!)

Keather has been married to her high-school sweetheart for forever. She is a serious mama bear and not just for her own kids - although as Mr. T would say, “I pity the fool” – but for every kid. She has more integrity than I do. There is right and wrong and to her, really life would be easier if you just chose the right. Otherwise she will call you on it and not mince words. I respect that. I also know that she puts on a tough front, but is pretty much a big ol’ softy. I relate to that. She is very artistic. She has an eye for detail and the things she creates are beautiful.

Henda never takes herself too seriously. I love this because it is something I struggle with. She has a positive outlook on life and because of that, broken people and weirdos (inside joke) are drawn to her. She is kind and she always gives people the benefit of the doubt. Don’t be fooled, she is no push-over! As a single mom, I have never once heard her complain about the hardships. For the longest time, she worked two jobs and I would bet her kids have never wanted for anything. She is so laid back and yet when I compare myself to her, I feel lazy.  She also has a knack for remembering dates and people and she will drive across the whole country to visit with an old friend.

When the three of us get together, no topic is off-limits. Nothing is too nosy. Or disgusting. We have talked about every taboo thing from bank balances to which liquor makes you poop. I know their hopes, their dreams, their fears, their faith and their scars. And they know mine. We have held each other up during some of life's really big girl problems and called each other out on other minor whiny things. I am so thankful and blessed to have them in my life.



Love y'all mucho!!

Chicks Dig ...

Chicks dig scars? Nah. One scroll through Facebook early on a weekend morning (before the chicks are awake and deleting emotional, angry, sometimes drunken posts) and you will notice very quickly that chicks dig losers. It's pretty obvious and it's really sad. I think a lot of the time the tenderness that is female clouds our judgment. We see this troubled guy, misunderstood really, and we think we can help him. We, with our charm and pure hearts, can save him. When I was a teen (a long, long time ago in a land far, far away) I heard Dawson McAllister speak at a youth rally. He warned against what he called "Missionary Dating". Missionary dating is dating someone who is not a Christian and justifying it by thinking the relationship will bring that person to Christ. It never seems to work that way. In fact, it usually works the other way, even dating a genuinely good lost person; the "missionary" will be led astray. I've done it and I've watched friends do it, too.

[NOTE: there is a HUGE difference in being kind to someone and extending Christian love & acceptance which we are called to do and dating them. You know it. I know it. Don't go all peace and love and whatever feels right on me.]

I love that quote. It has been attributed to both Maya Angelou and Max Lucado. I really wish that was reality, but I feel that many girls of dating age lack the spiritual maturity for that sentiment. In other words, that seems like a pretty lame plan to a boy-crazy, hormone-driven chick. I totally get it. I mean it wasn't THAT "long, long" ago! So, I have come up with some ways for chicks to recognize the losers. Warning signs to make you stop in the name of love and just think it through!

1. Stop in the name of love if he ever, ever asks you to lie. A person who has nothing to hide will not need to lie and a guy with good intentions will not need for you to lie either.

2. Stop in the name of love if he spends more time inside on the computer or playing video games than outside doing something active. It speaks to his work ethic.

3. Speaking of work ethic, stop in the name of love if he should have a job and doesn't. If he tells you he is looking for a job, but isn't concerned about it or hasn't left his couch in two days he is not serious. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT give this guy any money!

4. Stop in the name of love if he is EVER, EVER, EVER abusive. EVER. He may be truly sorry and he may have a hundred reasons how he just lost control, or how you drove him crazy, or how it will never happen again. It does not matter. Get out, get away and never look back. Pray for him. Maybe one day he will change, let him prove that to the next girl.

5. Stop in the name of love if he is a teenaged father or if he is an adult who pays (or should pay!) child support to more than one woman. I am not judging. Things happen and some choices can't be un-made. I am saying there is a whole lot of drama with the mother, father, child relationship and you really, really need to count the cost.

6. Stop in the name of love if he has tattoos or body piercings that make him un-hirable for a real job (a job that does not need to be supplemented to pay for living expenses). I am all for self-expression, but I am also all for being self-reliant and able to provide for your family.

7. Stop in the name of love if he has bad table manners or is unable to dress for a certain occasion (funeral, wedding, interview) and doesn't seem to care. He may just be rough around the edges, but he also may lack the social skills a person needs to get through life. Think it through.

8. Finally, stop in the name of love if you notice that every fun activity needs to start with or include drinking. I am not a T-totaler by a long shot, but I have noticed that people who don't know how to have fun unless they are drinking are sometimes actually not very fun people.

A New Mattress and More Bras

This past week we were on vacation. Every year we try to get down to the coast. It is our happy place. We love the sounds, the sights, the smell and even the sand. Most people might not enjoy the way we do the beach, but we have a system in place that works for us.

Last year, we did not get the healing we were searching. While we were gone, my husband’s mother had to be moved to an assisted living facility, we were short-handed at work, short on funds, and in general plain old short tempered. I guess, deep down we knew that we were not coming home to good things although I don’t think we could have guessed how the next year would test us. Still, when we left the beach it was like an emotional and physical loss.

Fourteen days after we got back from vacation my mother-in-law passed away. If that weren't enough, there was major drama involving our careers that left us feeling very insecure and my husband broke a tooth that required minor dental surgery. We spent the next weeks facing tough challenges: realizing that selling my husband’s childhood home was our only option, clearing out his mother’s things, working extra to prove our loyalty to our employer, having an estate sale…The estate sale was excruciating. It was emotionally taxing and labor intensive and when it was over, four completely drained adults sat in the floor of an empty house and wept like children. Two days later, we got the call that my husband’s grandmother (the one who helped raise him) had passed away. Another funeral, more sorrow, and more things to treasure all the while painfully aware that the person would be preferred over the things. The process of selling the house and the year of firsts without these beautiful, wonderful women took up the rest of the year. Just when things would start to almost feel normal again, a new thing to face would come along. The same week the sale of the house was final, a sweet cousin passed away and her memorial service was held on the one year anniversary of my mother-in-law’s death.

As vacation time drew nearer I was cautious. We needed rest, renewal and revival, and that’s a lot of pressure to put on a vacation.

We had certainly put in the sweat and tears and now it was time for the sea.

One thing I love about going to the coast is that even though I am there with the man of my dreams, I get a lot of alone time to think and read and write. We nerds really dig that!

Lakota waiting for Mark to get up and play.

On the first morning we were there, I wrote some poetry, which I like, but don’t love. Then, as a life-long list maker finding her center, I also started a list. A list of things I want. At first, the list was very short: a new mattress and more bras. I was struck by how pitiful my desires and limited my dreams had become. See, after a year like we had, you get "gun shy" about hope. This awareness made me a sad, so I pondered and prayed and after a while, I started adding to the list. Now, I am excited about making things happen, exploring new goals, learning, traveling, etc.

So, back to the original two items on my list, (I bet you thought I’d NEVER get this wagon circled back around!) a new mattress and more bras. I really do need those things. I will start saving as mattresses are expensive and I will probably make a trip to the store very soon for the latter. I guess I just find it ironic or humorous or interesting that a year later here I am, still needing comfort and support. (Get it?!?) I am so thankful for each person who has walked with us, prayed for us, cried with us, listened, and loved on us this last year. We can never express what it meant. Lycra and Memory Foam ain’t got nothing on y’all!

And yes, we did enjoy our time by the sea!!!

It was 6:17 AM...

Let me start this story by saying I'm a big chicken. At 6:17AM my bladder overruled the "But it's Saturday" argument. As I was coming back to bed I noticed that the light from outside was strange. The color wasn't right and neither was the time of day for it to be the sun. Half asleep. Oh, well. Climb back into bed, fluff the pillow, hear a THUMP in the kitchen. Back up. Go investigate. Now, that "strange" light shining in the kitchen windows looks like headlights. Groan. "Who is here at this time of morning?!" I get to the back door and realize that the dog pen flood lights are on. Dang goat!...well, most likely, but ...the light switch is outside and I am barefoot so that's gonna have to stay on (good of an excuse as any!) I turn around with my flashlight and find the kitchen trash is knocked over and the cat is rummaging through, explaining the thump sound I heard earlier...or does it?...I have seen enough horror movies to know that there is a pretty good chance it ain't the cat. Heck, I've even yelled it out to the main character, "IT AIN'T THE CAT YOU BIG DUMMY!" to no avail as the people in movies never listen. However, I am sleepy, the dog seems satisfied with the cat/goat theory, and I don't hear creepy music in the background so I head back to bed. I get all covered up and snuggled back down and start to drift back to sleep. Suddenly, there is a CLICK and the whole room is washed in a bright blue light. I throw back the covers, possibly use profanity, and find that the blasted TV has turned itself on again. Even the dog has a "Holy Crap!" look on her face. I scramble to find the remote and click it off...and so THAT'S how I came to be sitting up in bed holding a firearm before daylight this morning...

For those wondering about where my husband was when the boogy man was lurking, let me tell you about how the chores are divided on the Rancho de Oehler. Mark-o rides night guard - responsible for varmits, storm watching, stampedes, and Indian raids. I ride the last guard and jingle up the cats, heat the iron and stoke the cook fire - or as I like to call it, the microwave...

Happy Saturday, to all!