With the Republican National Convention underway, a quote from a famous Republican is apropos for Wednesday Words to Remember.
I wonder if Abraham Lincoln was speaking of the freedoms and privileges we enjoy in America that many in the world still do not.
Liberty to vote for our leaders. To transfer power without war. To worship as we choose. To bear arms. To own property, pursue education, and start businesses.
When Lincoln was alive, liberty had not been fully realized by all Americans. Was he thinking of the great trial of his presidency, the Civil War?
A battle is being waged in my home. It’s me against the stuff.
the garage (my colander is in there somewhere. no spaghetti tonight.)
If you’d told me four years ago I’d be happier in a 1,500 square foot house than in a 4,100 square foot house, I’d have said you were off your rocker.
Today I’d eat those words. Call me cozy, but a small house suits me. Now please take your rocker with you before I send it packing to Goodwill.
Ain’t nothing wrong with a big house—unless it’s THE big house. Then we’d have other issues to discuss. In the immortal words of Alan Jackson, it’s all right to be little bitty.
My husband is scared. He likes his stuff.
At the closing of the sale of our house last week, I told our real estate agent we’d have half as much to move when the lease ends on our current rental. My husband, bless his heart, said I was being mean. In front of my face. With me sitting right there across the closing table. A nervous laugh to cover his fear.
Maybe I am mean with clutter. Like a drill sargeant. The people and the dog come first, so the extra baggage has got to go. Whatever stays must be packed, labeled and stored appropriately. Ready to ship out at a moment’s notice.
This is combat, and I mean business. By the time I’m finished, we’ll be fit for a feature in Real Simple. Watch out, Martha Stewart. I’m coming for you next. I’ve tasted freedom, and it’s a good thing.
Freedom from debt. Freedom from cleaning a large house. Freedom from catering to the tastes of potential buyers. Now that I have it, I want more. More freedom to do what I love with the people I love.
Commandeering clutter is not something I love. It’s necessary, like laundry. We all have to do it. But let’s whip it into shape and minimize the upkeep, shall we? Let’s hang on to what counts.
Those things packed in boxes I literally haven’t seen in years? The most loved ones bring a rush when I unpack them. Reunited and it feels so good.
The others are asked to peaceably exit the premises. If they dawdle, they will be forcibly removed.
I need the space and the freedom. My time, my sanity, is no longer negotiable.
moth holes discovered when I unpacked my favorite shocking pink cardi. no!
Don’t hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or—worse!—stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasure in heaven, where it’s safe from moth and rust and burglars. It’s obvious, isn’t it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being. Matthew 6:10-21 The Message
Warning: This is a three-song post for a one-post week. Alan Jackson’s Little Bitty, Peaches & Herb’s Reunited, and brand new Dara Maclean’s Suitcases. You’re gonna love it.
“It’s hard living between airplanes,” said the stranger sitting next to me.
I had the window seat. He had the middle. No one had the end seat, but he didn’t move. He reached out with conversation.
“Do you live in Charlotte?” he said.
“No, I used to live in North Carolina. I’m just visiting this trip.”
“Do you know the university in North Carolina?” he said.
“UNC-Charlotte?” I said.
“I don’t know what it’s called,” he said. “I can go there for my graduate degree.”
“There are a lot of good schools in North Carolina,” I said. “What will you study?”
The stranger introduced himself. Said he was studying recreational therapy in Illinois. Hoped to do graduate work so he could train other therapists in Saudi Arabia. Recreational therapists are in demand there, even more so instructors to train them.
Before school, he’d organized conferences to educate Saudi companies about the internet. Showed me pictures of the events on his iPhone. Seemed impressed I have a blog. The flight attendant gave us dirty looks.
Showed me pictures of his two little boys and his beautiful wife. Said her name means scent of flowers.
He’d left them in Saudi Arabia to come to the United States to study. Left his former work to pursue American degrees that would give him job security as an instructor in his own country. He missed his family and would travel more than 20 hours on four flights to see them.
blind freedom
“Dubai is not just a city,” he said as we looked at his vacation pictures.
“Forgive me, but are those Christmas trees in the hotel lobby?” I said.
“Yes,” he said.
“Isn’t Dubai in a Muslim country?” I said. “They have Christmas trees?”
“You have your beliefs. We have ours. No reason to fight about them,” he said. “The vacationers come for Christmas holiday.”
My new friend may be Saudi, but that sure sounded American.
He showed me apps to get free phone calls, text messaging, and voice reminders. Then more free apps to book flights or turn my iPhone into a flashlight or a piano. The refreshment cart passed us by.
He’s learning English. The writing comes hard. His iPhone is full of SAT and GRE vocab apps. We played them with abandon. Well, I played.
“You are so fast at these word games!” he said.
“I’ve been learning English all my life,” I said. “You’ll get it.”
“You know Mubarak?” he said. “The guy in Egypt?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Obama’s advisors called Mubarak because he’s won so many ‘elections’ in Egypt. They wanted him to help with the next election here.”
“Okay,” I said now hooked.
“Mubarak agreed to let his advisors work on the election here,” he said. “After it was over, Obama called Mubarak and cursed him. Mubarak asked Obama what was wrong. Obama cursed him more. So Mubarak told Obama to put Mubarak’s advisors on the phone.”
“And?” I said.
“Mubarak’s advisors were so happy. They said to Mubarak, ‘We won! We won! Congratulations, Mr. President!'”
Cheers to my new friend, wherever you are.
For the Lord is high above the nations;
His glory is higher than the heavens. Psalm 113:4 NLT
Dear sweet 1984, we didn’t know the Cold War years were the good old days. Thanks for leaving us 99 Luftballoons by Nena.
Saudis in America
While writing this post I watched Saudis in America, a short documentary by Saudi filmmaker Fahmi F. Farahat (2007).
There are no easy answers. Although I disagreed with some opinions expressed in the film, it makes good food for thought. Catch the interview with Farahat on the extras.
