division

Old Bag is My Purse, not My Person.

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

It’s always some super chic 20-something who says, “I love your bag,” or “That’s some fine looking leather,” or, “Where did you find your purse?”

“Thanks,” I always say with real gratitude. “I got it at the Pioneer Woman Mercantile in Pawhuska, Oklahoma.” I love the word Pawhuska, and say it right: Puh HUSS ka, and with a bit of a drawl. And so the conversation begins with a lovely young woman and I am reminded that it’s a lie that the youngsters don’t like the oldsters, that ageism should even be a word, much a less something I worry about.

Of course it exists, but life is soooo way too short to be taking note of those with so little wisdom that they don’t recognize mine. Of course those complimenary and pleasant young women may be the exception rather than the norm. But don’t I prefer an exception-al life to a norm-al (offended) life?

Absolutely! I am not getting, or losing, my joy because someone somewhere thinks I’m past it. That’s because even though my wrinkles say otherwise, I am so much younger than I was when I was 20-something (when I was always spouting off something I later regretted). On the outside I may look like my purse–in need of a little spit and polish. But inside I get younger every single day.

Why not join me?

Dastardly Division

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

Yesterday my daughter and I went to Wyoming where there are fewer mask-querades than in Colorado, and while there joined a coffee shop meeting of Wyoming conservatives. These were fine folks, but there was no mention of God. These were, I thought beforehand, good, salty, no-nonsense Wyoming git-er-done types. Christians.

But, in fact, they are like so many of us, handicapped. In the parking lot I saw anti-Colorado bumper stickers. “Colorado is Wyoming’s Mexico” and a few other uncomplimentary offerings prepared me for the remarks of the man next to me. In a nutshell, he said, “We hate Colorado.”

There was a question about Mark Gaetz’s motives in coming to Wyoming’s “Impeach Liz Cheney” rally, as in, “Why did we get an outsider?” I thought we were all Americans. More division. How does the great evil of socialism win over freedom? With division.

(Socialist “intellectual” Bhaskar Sunkara praises Bernie Sanders and Jeremy Corbyn for promoting “a renewal of class antagonism” which is essential for the thriving of evil in society.)

Back to the meeting in Wyoming: One of the attendees belittled another conservative in attendance (better than behind his back, maybe?) in front of everyone; later the speaker said about Cheyenne (where we were), “I hate this city.” Could it be that in judging the bringers of division and crassness, we become divisive and crass? More divided?

I’m asking these questions in prayer this morning, along with the question, “What is the new song You want us to sing, Father?” I was reading and re-reading Psalm 96: “Sing unto the Lord a new song.” Certainly that precludes the same old, same old, melodies of anger and defensiveness. Of division.

So, let’s think a bit about this. How far have we gotten with division? More to the point, how far have we gotten with disobedience to God? Perhaps we should begin our song with words straight from His Word. Just like David, let us sing Psalms.

Pondering and praying a bit more, I asked, “Do we stop going to fear-filled churches as a means ofprotecting ourselves from fear, even as we stop going to division-filled political gatherings to protect ourselves from division?” Or are these examples of the classic throwing-the-baby-out-with-the-bathwater mistake?

“Father, You promise us wisdom for the asking, and I’m asking for wisdom. Surely there is no other source.”

Some things are so obvious we look right over them. We go to the TV for answers, and politcal gatherings for good company, and when it comes right down to it, if we’re not keeping company with Jesus, if we’re not doing the “Seek ye first” thing, we’re without a hope.

“My hope is in You, Lord. Amen.”