Blog – Page 7 – Jennifer Grashel

Gratitude and Laughter

Psst!

Hey, I figured out how to attract a bazillion spam comments.

Wanna know my secret?

Write a post with the word “election” in the title.

Bahaha.

The Russians are coming! The Russians are coming!

‘Tis the month for election fraud. (Wait, did I say that out loud?) I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.

‘Tis also the month for daily thankfulness posts. Kudos to those who can keep up with them (or close enough). I am grateful for some of the funnier and informative ones I’ve seen.

On the thankfulness theme … Nationwide Children’s Hospital has provided some cool resources for talking about gratitude with kids. The gratitude guide and worksheets are part of their “On Our Sleeves” campaign to address children’s mental health. According to their page “Research shows that people who practice gratitude – who think about the good things in their life – are healthier and happier!” So maybe even grownups without kids should take a look.

On the mental health theme, I recently finished the audiobook version of The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk:. It is a sixteen hour tome – not for the faint of heart. But if you struggle with the effects of trauma or encounter those who do in your profession (education, law enforcement, ministry, healthcare etc.), it’s very insightful and worth the time.

In a more theological lane for addressing what’s wrong with society, I’m about halfway through John Mark Comer’s God Has a Name. A much quicker read/listen. He’s already quoted Keyser Söze (“the greatest trick the devil ever pulled is convincing the world he doesn’t exist”) … and addressed penal substitutionary atonement theory. Lately I’ve seen a few folks shrieking about PSAT (interesting acronym), implying it isn’t true and is some conspiracy or at least gross misinterpretation by the modern western evangelical church. I’ve been scratching my head over those allegations thinking, “But it is true according to scripture. It’s just not the whole story.” I feel vindicated by JMC who states, “It is true, and I believe it.” He goes on to state PSAT is one of several metaphors the New Testament uses to describe what Jesus did on the cross. And, indeed, for about a millennium and half it was not the dominant metaphor emphasized by the church.

It’s both and! And it’s all good news.

I’m grateful for good news. I’m grateful for good books. I’m grateful for laughter.

Case in point, I’m not sure if Spiderman was raptured or what, but I saw this on yesterday’s walk.

And this arrived in the mail, addressed to me. Seriously? Really? I am not that old. I laughed as I tossed it in with the recycling.

I’m grateful for friends who laugh with me over this story with highly important information you need to know about moose and then counter with this fact-checked true story about one of the creatures dangling fifty feet in the air.

For now, I’m gonna go keep my mind on things above, as Colossians 3 says. I wonder if this counts.

Things that happen when you overexpose the shot.

Why do we measure and take photos of it?

So we know where to put grab bars once the wall is buttoned up and tiled.

It’s 2020. Who Cares Anymore?

“I need a Hallmark Christmas movie on. My failure is too loud in this room.”

We were trying to be proactive and get the Christmas tree up early. And hopefully go through a couple boxes that hadn’t seen the light of day in at least several Christmases.

“Did you see lights anywhere? I think I might have thrown out the old non-working ones after last year but didn’t buy any new yet.”

Lights were nowhere to be found.

Do you ever feel like someone is staring at you in judgment? K, just checking.

Everyone knows the lights have to go on the tree first. Before any garland. Before any ornaments. Before any star, angel, or whatever topper you like. Before tinsel if you’re into tinsel.

“Sooooo … wanna go to Walmart then?”

I’ve been avoiding Walmart during the pandemic. The number of non-mask-wearing, non-social-distancing individuals seems especially high there. Plus seriously, no one wants to go to Walmart on a weekend. It gets way too peopley on the weekend, pandemic or no pandemic.

Off to Walmart we went.

We used our advanced mathematical, electrical, and mechanical knowledge to string an appropriate number of spiffy new LED light strands on the tree, all in one circuit.

And then.

The first strand … the one at the top of the tree … wouldn’t light up.

We had plugged it into the wall by itself and it worked fine.

After some troubleshooting we determined there must be something faulty in the connector to the next strand.

Two trips to Walmart on a Saturday? No. Just no.

Instead, we switched houses and strung up some outdoor lights while the weather was nice and warm. Then settled in to watch an Ohio State victory over Rutgers. Sadly there will be no Ohio State victory this coming weekend, as too many Maryland players tested COVID-positive and the game has been cancelled.

We have not been turning the outdoor lights on yet, but honestly it’s 2020 … who cares anymore. Put Christmas decorations up as early as you like.

A couple days ago I sent this text … “FYI I’m going for a walk in a couple minutes. May or may not shower prior to shopping depending on your timing. Smelling = ensuring social distancing + who cares anymore.”

Going for a walk usually means three miles at a fairly brisk pace in my world. In highly attractive workout gear. (Highly attractive in the eye of the beholder, I suppose.)

I really didn’t pay attention to whether anyone was looking at me funny in Hobby Lobby.

It’s 2020. Who cares anymore.

I’ve been spending less time on social media, although the last couple days I’ve been able to look at more than just my notifications. I said in a text recently, “There are too many sanctimonious a**holes in my feed.” I think someday I’ll name a band Sanctimonious A**holes. We’ll play #punkrawk music, of course.

I’m spending time decorating for Christmas and avoiding the news. Well except for, you know, “the good news”.

Hallmark Christmas movies continue to be in heavy rotation at my house.

I was listening to Christmas music in August.

For those keeping track, this year’s Feliz Navidad versus Christmas Shoes count stands at 6-0.

Christmas makes everything better. (Except “the shoes”.) Light up the lights. Have some hot cocoa. Listen to Christmas music if you like.

It’s 2020. Who cares anymore.

Have Your Election Cake and Eat It Too

“Do you want to see who can fling the eyeball the farthest?”

“Oh I definitely want to see who can fling the eyeball the farthest.”

When a six-year-old asks if you want to fling an eyeball, you fling an eyeball. It’s what you do.

And maybe snap a quick photo because how hilarious is it that I’m flinging an eyeball!?!?!

Of all the things I thought I’d never be doing in my life …

Also apparently I have eyeball flinging skills. Who knew.

Since last we spoke – just in the past week alone – we’ve experienced …

… the remnants of a hurricane blowing through, which occurred on …

… Beggar’s Night aka Trick-or-Treat …

… a Buckeye victory over Penn State on actual Halloween with a full moon while eating Chick-fil-A …

… a presidential election that pretty much defies description and whose results we’ll know … I have no idea when.

There were memes about “emotional support Canadians” the day after election day. “If you do not have an emotional support Canadian, one will be assigned to you shortly.”

Bring on the maple syrup, eh?

We kept Hallmark Christmas movies on all day election day, in case anyone was wondering. It’s so satisfying to check off the “I Watched” box in the app. If only real life involved living happily ever after while finding love while throwing an event together in six days and baking cookies and drinking hot cocoa. Sigh.

Recently a pastor acquaintance posted a super negative, super judgmental story on social media. It wasn’t his first. I’m sure it won’t be his last. As with so many social media posts in the current climate, I scrolled on while praying.

All I could think was, “I pray you find grace for those you hate.”

A couple days ago while texting with a friend, autocorrect tried to change my attempt at the word “bitterness” to “butterflies”.

Hmmm.

While highly amused and admitting it sounds like trite Christianese, I said I’d cross-stitch “turn your bitterness to butterflies” on a pillow someday.

In breaking election news I missed prior to Tuesday … apparently election cakes are a thing. I haven’t researched the best recipe, but here you go. The article mentions raisins. I just say no to raisins. There have to be better options out there.

Do you remember in Romans 14 where it says don’t judge other believers for what they do or do not eat? (Like raisins, I suppose.) Right before that, though, the chapter starts with a more general statement:

Accept other believers who are weak in faith, and don’t argue with them about what they think is right or wrong. ~Romans 14:1

We get distracted by all the verses about food choices, but I’m pretty sure the point was don’t argue about stuff that really doesn’t matter. Perhaps a more relevant modern-day example might be … don’t argue about politics and religion on social media. Or bait others into arguments about politics and religion on social media.

So let’s stop condemning each other. Decide instead to live in such a way that you will not cause another believer to stumble and fall. ~Romans 14:13

But but but … such and such is indisputable!

Are you sure? People will find a way. Maybe take a breath first.

I pray you all find grace for those you hate. I pray you turn your bitterness into butterflies.

Et laissez nous manger le gâteau electoral.

Or laissez nous manger le soup du jour. Butternut. So good.

It looks like it’s smiling at me. Maybe I should add an eyeball.

A Schluter?

“We’re gettin’ a Schluter.”

“What on earth is a Schluter?”

Per the Google, where the top question is conveniently, “What is a Schluter?” …

“Schluter®-RONDEC is a finishing and edge protection profile for the outside corners of tiled surfaces. It features a trapezoid-perforated anchoring leg that is secured in the mortar bond coat beneath the tile and a reveal that forms a symmetrically rounded outer corner with 1/4″ (6 mm) radius along the surface edge.”

You had me at trapezoid.

In terms we all can understand, Schluter is a company that makes shower waterproofing systems and related products.

Okay, sounds great. Waterproofing is good.

I’ve said the word “Schluter” so many times in the last week, I think I’ve mastered it.

Sluter?

No, Schluter.

Shooter?

Huh? Who’s getting shot? Ohhh, Schluter.

Suitor?

That’s a whole other discussion. No, Schluter.

Schluter. Schluter. Schluter. Schluter. Schluter.

My apologies to anyone actually named Schluter. I’m assuming no one has ever given their child Schluter as a first name, but then never assume. Also we don’t live in Sweden.

John Jacob Jingleheimer Schluter

His name is my name too

Whenever we go out

The people always shout

Hey John Jacob Jingleheimer Schluter

Schluter Schluter Schluter

Oh wait, that’s not how the song goes? Here, watch the most disturbing version of it I could find and check my lyrics.

Okay, so we’re gettin’ a Schluter. The realization that this meant the previously planned prefabbed base with built-in bench was not a thing … and our trusty contractors were building the bench, etc. … and therefore we would be tiling the whole shebang and needed to select a shower floor tile … took a little time to become clear.

Oooooohhhhh.

Countless internet searches and several field trips to Lowe’s, Home Depot, and Floor & Décor later … we have shower floor tile. By the way, everyone wants to sell you marble and natural stone – which look fantastic, and there are many affordable options – but those materials can’t handle harsh cleaners and need to be resealed regularly.

1. Dude! It’s a shower floor! In a bathroom! We sanitize!

2. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

If you’re the kind of person who doesn’t mind the regular maintenance … or is willing to accept potential deterioration by using harsh cleaners anyway … or has time to chase down whether a less harsh but still effective solution exists … great. That does not describe anyone in this household at this moment.

We tried to have design decisions made prior to the entire bathroom being gutted last week. But challenges always come up. Case in point, the discovery that in-stock vanity tops would not meet our requirements. Eh, hard stop. Not buying it today. Cue twenty-four hour redesign process involving creation of Plan B that resulted in having to compromise only on lead time.

So if I’m slow to respond to your texts … or you see me on Zoom or in Home Depot without my hair done … walk on. I can’t even keep up with the Hallmark Channel’s Countdown to Christmas.

One thing I do hope to catch is the Dove Awards show(s) this week. Preshow with some of the awards Thursday night streaming on fb live, and main show Friday night on TBN. I’m unclear on whether Friday is streaming on the friendbook as well, so just check out the page here.

In a rare quiet moment I did read this beautifully written piece on one woman’s experience with racism. I sometimes forget how much attitudes can vary with geography in the US.

And with that, I have only one word for you.

I think you know what it is.

Schluter.

It’s like blue tape for walls, but it’s for hardwood floors. Less of a tripping hazard than dropcloths.

The leaves are 99.99% gone. And now I’m cold. Sigh.

A fully stocked tp aisle is a thing of beauty in 2020.

An option to consider as you head to the polls.

Selfie Skills

Welcome to an accurate depiction of my brain today.

When last we spoke, people were arguing on the internet and I was cooking things with squash.

Not much has changed.

I’ve been eating butternut squash crème brulee for days.

I was so excited a couple weeks ago to find my ramekins, as most of my kitchen gear is in storage. While rummaging through my storage unit (I was dropping off a couple things), I noticed a box marked, “12,000 crème brulee cups”. The number is only a slight exaggeration. My original inspiration for learning to make crème brulee and acquiring said ramekins was this scene.

While the butternut version is delightful and tastes like a light, creamy, fluffy pumpkin pie – it tastes like fall – the perfect crème brulee is, in fact, dark chocolate. For a buckeye flair, sprinkle peanut butter chips on top.

Speaking of Buckeyes … Big Ten football kicks off pandemically late this coming Saturday, October 24. (Ohio State hosts Nebraska at noon on Fox.) Spectators are not allowed, but for anyone who wants to “be in the stadium”, you can upload a selfie and order your fan cutout here.

Because I was in the right place on the interwebs at the right time and was one of the first to share a link about the cutouts on social media … I won a free one! I. Am. A. Winner! I will be in the stadium this weekend! And yes, I paid extra to have a copy shipped to me.

I needed to beat the noon Monday deadline in order to make it to the home opener, so I was in the front yard Sunday taking selfies. Which is a funny story, because I really, really, really didn’t feel like taking selfies anyone would see.

Backing up to Saturday, that pesky tendonitis I’ve been fighting was better enough that I went for a three-mile walk, my first such exercise in two weeks. I figured it was wise to ice that hip afterward, so I did just that on and off all evening.

Eventually it was approaching 1am, so I thought I really, really, really should get off the couch and head for bed. I stood up – successfully … you know, like a winner. When I turned and tried to walk, the big toe of one foot got tangled up with the opposite leg of my pajama pants … and … wheeeeee! Kersplat. Let’s just say I tried to break the armrest of the couch with my face.

After locating everything I dropped and the glasses that flew off my face – and assessing that an emergency room visit was not required – I headed straight for bed with the ice pack I originally intended to put back in the freezer. Shockingly, I did not wake up with a black eye, but I do have a colorful bruise on my cheek. And I’m a little more swollen than usual. And then there’s pain. It’s improving, but it hurts to smile. And, of course, smiling’s my favorite!

So Sunday … putting on makeup and trying to take a selfie that didn’t make me look like the elephant man wasn’t something I was excited to do, but I did it anyway. Guess how many selfies I took before settling on one. Go ahead, guess. Seriously, whoever comes closest wins my undying admiration and maybe I’ll send you something cool in the snail mail. Comment on this post on my website with your guess, or if you’re one of the cool kids who subscribed to get updates via email, just reply to this email.

Until next time … more squash awaits me …

The recipe said to cut the acorn squash “on the equator”. They’re like cute little flowers.

Blackberry coffee cake. Dangerously good.

RIP 1980s wallpaper. It’s somewhere in the dumpster.

I looked up at this glitter water lantern on the table, and all I could think of was “snowman butt”. You’re welcome.

Do you think they preach prosperity gospel there?

The Season of Squash and Opinions

“Do you see that yellow tree sticking up behind the other ones? I wonder why it’s so different from the rest?”

We all grow and mature and ripen at different speeds. We just do.

Diversity of opinion makes the world go ‘round. Although the social media wars would lead you to believe otherwise.

See my social media for commentary on this deer.

Sunday’s sermon on Romans 14 was timely. I recommend reading the entire chapter, but verse 13 is kind of the point:

Therefore let us not judge one another anymore, but rather determine this—not to put an obstacle or a stumbling block in a brother’s way. ~Romans 14:13

If it’s a matter of opinion, let there be different opinions.

What if you’re not as good at “research” as you think?

What if your BS detector, I mean discernment isn’t as finely tuned as you think?

Psst! Hey. I think your fly may be unzipped. Oh wait, I mean your pride and condescension are showing.

So anyway.

Note the different rates of ripening in the hundred acre woods. Don’t be yelling at the yet-to-turn leaves that they’re wrong.

I’ve been spending less time monitoring social media and more time continuing to enjoy the fall foliage and to cook more squash.

Seriously, I feel like the Bubba Gump of squash these days.

There’s spaghetti squash.

And spaghetti squash cheesy bread.

There’s butternut squash puree.

And butternut squash crème brulee.

Don’t forget the pumpkin spice frozen custard. Per the ingredient list there is actual pumpkin in it.

Whittie of the month. Pumpkin spice frozen custard between two sugar cookies. Run to your nearest Whit’s and see if they have these. So good so good so good.

There are umpteen more squash of various varieties on the counter. I foresee squash pudding, squash casserole, squash soup, roasted squash, maybe squash pie … someone posted a recipe for pumpkin dump cake, I bet we could sub another kind of squash … squash cookies and/or muffins maybe …

Hey speaking of pumpkins. Here’s a cool stencil you can use for pumpkin carving. Sound up when you play the video.

Along those same lines, these masks are fun. For anyone gift shopping for me, I like the script Ohio one best.

Until next time, you’ll find me either in the kitchen or somewhere staring at a tree.

Don’t forget to look down sometimes, too.

The Seasons They Are A-Changin’

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven …” ~Ecclesiastes 3:1

When I took this shot, I didn’t realize how much reflection there was in the window. I was mesmerized by the blue sky and changing leaves across the street.

I love fall. The milder temperatures, the brilliant colors, the plummeting pollen levels.

This year I find myself keenly aware of the changing seasons and passage of time. I was looking out the window the other day, noticing a strong autumn wind blowing through the grass. It’s the time of year when some of the blades are getting long enough the lawn probably ought to be mowed, but then some look like they’re ready to go night-night for the winter. So do you bother?

The birds that were so numerous around the feeder through the spring and summer are mostly gone, likely migrating somewhere warmer.

The state of the wooly worms is predicting a harsh winter.

Part of me wants to crawl under the covers and have someone wake me up when it’s time to get vaccinated. That feeling may be influenced by the toasty warm heating pad keeping my hip tendonitis at bay enough for me to hobble around the house as needed. Just barely. Silly me, I didn’t realize a three mile brisk walk a few times a week – something firmly in my wheelhouse for a long time – was a phenomenon that had left the building.

P.S. I recommend buying stock in whoever makes Target-brand Aleve.

Time marches on. People need things. There’s food in the house that will rot if I don’t cook it or prep it for the freezer.

A visual representation of how my hip feels on the inside.

And still I find myself getting sleepy … very sleepy …

Hypnotized yet?

By the way, did you know caffeine is anti-inflammatory? I should probably drink more coffee.

Thoughts and prayers for the stomach I’m apparently trying to rot out as well as my tendons.

I did finish a couple audiobooks in the last week. You know, while walking when I still was able, while driving around trying to find the right kind of hand soap in stock, or while sitting around with ice or a heating pad.

The Normal Christian Life by Watchman Nee is based on a series of talks the Chinese evangelist gave on the book of Romans. Good stuff.

The very recently published Blackout: How Black America Can Make Its Second Escape from the Democrat Plantation by Candace Owens. Definitely worth a read whether you lean left or right politically.

Until next time, friends. I need to go cook a squash or something.

I came, I saw, I conquered the spaghetti squash.

Hurrying to finish a walk before the sky fell probably didn’t help my situation.

So I’ve Got That Going For Me

Let’s be honest. 2020 continues to be a dumpster fire in many ways.

Being a fan of gratitude and silver linings, however, there’s a phrase making its way into my daily vernacular …

So I’ve got that going for me.

The conversation last weekend went something like this … embellished with artistic license and an aging memory …

“Hey, I’ve got you on speaker because I’m just now getting around to cooking dinner.

I was streaming Hallmark movies earlier, but then our internet was limping so I went for a walk. I was debating since it was going to be a rest day, but then no internet plus I felt like my blood pressure could really use a walk.”

“So you’ve got that going for you.”

I thought the one cloud looked like a cross.

“I did cross Winter in Vail off my list before the wifi went kaput, though. Have you seen that one? Vail was a tiny town with lots of German heritage and they throw together Strudelfest in like six days. I haven’t been, but I doubt it’s like that in real life.”

“Yes! Mmmmm. Strudel.”

“I didn’t make strudel, but I did make a blueberry coffee cake that was amazing.

So I’ve got that going for me.

I also made meatloaf.”

Insert laughter. My inner circle knows I don’t eat boeuf. I have been known to cook it for others on request.

The recipe calls for sprinkling turbinado sugar on top, but nobody actually has that in their kitchen, so white granulated will do just fine.

“You went muffled there for a minute.”

“Oh, sorry, I was taking a pic of garlic and probably had my finger over the mic. I’m putting insane amounts of garlic in my veggie saute.”

“So you’ve got that going for you.”

“Oh! You know that dark sweater with the hood you got me a couple Christmases ago? I’ve been using it as a robe. For those times when a thick fuzzy robe is too hot but you need something. It’s becoming a regular part of my quarantine wardrobe.

So I’ve got that going for me.”

I then relayed the Reader’s Digest version of a recent conversation that in one word shed some holy light on a situation.

“I mean, I’ve never done ______, but I do have the spiritual gift of vicious rhetoric.”

“That you do. So you’ve got that going for you.”

P.S. My use of the phrase “vicious rhetoric” originates with this movie clip. From the same film, here’s another favorite I occasionally quote to teeeeens. You’re welcome.

I went on to mention Machiavelli.

“You sounded really smart when you said that.”

“Oh thanks.

So I’ve got that going for me.

I’ll have to work in a Dante’s Inferno reference as well.

Oh hey, I thought the sermon this morning (message starts at ~26:00) was really good. I watched The Social Dilemma on Netflix afterward. I’m pretty sure Jordan had seen it because he quoted a line from it.”

If you or your loved ones are on social media (including YouTube) or even use internet search engines, I recommend The Social Dilemma. It’s a docudrama – part interviews with tech industry experts, part fictional story woven in. The drama factor is a bit over the top, but the subject matter is important and valuable information.

In a pandemic election year when everything is running off the rails … consider this advice. Stop getting into petty social media arguments. Even if you think they’re bigger than petty. Do not engage. Fight the real enemy.

Peace and love, friends.

Speaking of peace, here are a couple musical versions. Not like a Broadway musical. Just musical. Lower case m.

Friends of mine did a Facebook live concert from a local historic theater the other day. The Gaga cover at a little past the 32 minute mark is still running through my head.

I’ve mentioned his latest album before, but Andrew Greer is the gift that keeps on giving. Tune My Heart is on repeat in my ears as I write and is now Dove-nominated.

Sadly this spatula did not survive the dishwasher.

I was just going to go for a walk and not stop to take pics, but then God said, “Oh really?”

Autumn has arrived at the prairie restoration project.

Cancel Culture

You’re familiar with the term “cancel culture”, right?

Offend someone, which really you can do these days just by breathing, and you’ll be canceled.

You might be kicked out of a social circle.

You might be kicked out of an organization you work for or volunteer with.

You might be kicked out of a church.

You might be sued.

You might be forced to close a business you created.

The current mob rule climate seeks to cancel and discredit anyone who dares to disagree with the (usually, but not always, liberal) party line.

We can’t just punish someone we think did wrong. We can’t just fire someone or ask for their resignation, we have to make them suffer. We have to make sure they face financial ruin and have all possible sources of income removed from the realm of possibility.

And they might not have done anything wrong.

Except express a difference of opinion.

We can’t have a discussion.

We can’t seek first to understand.

We can’t agree to disagree and go have a beverage together.

We have to cancel them and pretend they never existed.

The self-appointed Holy Roman Emperors of our day are on one heck of a rampage. Roman Emperors might be more historically accurate, although everyone seems to think their own cause is holy.

A lack of diversity in thought, though, can be dangerous. A leader who can’t be questioned? That’s how dictators and despots and genocides happen.

In case you’re wondering, I Googled “who was the most brutal roman emperor”. Caligula seems to be the consensus of the SEO gods, although his cruelty most assuredly was spurred by actual insanity. Nero knew what he was doing. So we’ll go with Nero.

There are interesting theories that “666” in the book of Revelation is a thinly veiled numerology reference spelling out N-E-R-O. So it may be Nero’s number, not Satan’s number, but as I understand the history there wasn’t a whole lot of difference.

In yet another side note rabbit trail … I was informed recently there is an Emperors of Rome podcast in existence. I probably need to start binging it soon.

So while Rome burns I think I’ll go for a walk. And get my hair done. And, I don’t know, do you think I should take up the violin?

Peace and love, my people.

I’ve been eating squash pudding for days.

Caesar is Lord. Ha! Not!

When last we spoke, the internet and landline had gone kaput. It went kaput for four days.

I felt like I was channeling my inner Laura Ingalls Wilder there for a bit.

Described in the brief news article as “a major outage”, to my knowledge no one has announced publicly what the root cause was. Hmmm. I wonder if there is finger pointing going on behind the scenes. I mean, it is 2020 and cancel culture is alive and well.

What to do when trying not to burn through all the data? Put together a 1000 piece puzzle.

Believing that honey is a more successful strategy than vinegar, my inquiry to our internet provider was rewarded with credit for a week’s worth of service.

In other news …

For as much as I bother to read lengthy Facebook rants, I’ve been seeing a trend that concerns me.

Supposedly.

Ahem.

Supposedly … if I refuse to repeat the words [insert trendy extremist slogan of the moment here] … then I’m a [insert horrible label here].

I have written about this false accusation before, but I’m seeing so much doubling down on the premise.

So much that all I can think about is I’m pretty sure they’re insisting I say, “Caesar is Lord.”

Christian friends are insisting I say, “Caesar is Lord.”

I call bulls**t.

Throughout scripture, of course, you’ll find the word Lord used in reference to Jesus.

“If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” ~Romans 10:9

“Jesus is Lord” was such a radical phrase at the time of the early church because the implication was “Caesar is not.”

God bless America that you can say, “_____ is not my president,” without fear of arrest, death, or heck, even being cancelled. Early Christians in the Roman empire were not so fortunate. Caesar was to be regarded as lord, king, emperor, supreme head honcho and depending on which reign we’re talking about, God or a god.

Soooo … if I refuse to repeat your buzzwords but instead prefer, when asked directly, to take a couple sentences to explain my more nuanced view … then I’m … a racist, misogynist, homophobe, elitist, uncaring, not a Christian, mentally handicapped, nazi, fascist, white supremacist, KKK-sympathizer, idiot.

Did I leave anything out?

Did I hear you right? I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right.

The vitriol is crushing my soul.

My heart is hurting over the meanness of Christian friends.

I actually used the phrase “my heart is hurting” earlier this week.

The funny thing is spiritual bullies don’t think they’re bullies.

All hail the righteous cause.

A friend shared this Babylon Bee satire piece that is so on point, you all should read it. Remember, it’s satire.

Woke white people are drowning out the voices of those with relevant firsthand experiences.

Sigh.

P.S. In slightly related news … tools that are saving my sanity on the friendbook. I’ve used the F.B. Purity extension for Chrome for some time. It allows you to curate your newsfeed and other features in order to see what you want, in the order you want. With the hugely popular new Facebook layout (please read that with a large dose of sarcasm), the F.B. Purity developer has released the RevertSite extension to allow you to switch back to the classic design. The extensions work with several other browsers as well, but unfortunately not the Facebook smartphone app. If you’re viewing Facebook on a laptop or desktop, do yourself a favor and try these free extensions. I receive no compensation for recommending them. I just love them that much.