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Some of my stories are published in:
A Cup of Comfort Devotional for Mothers and Daughters (Adams Media, 2009)
Chicken Soup: What I Learned from the Dog (2009)
Love is a Flame (Bethany House, 2010)
Extraordinary answers to Prayer (Guideposts, 2010)
Love is a Verb (Bethany House, 2011)
Big Dreams from Small Spaces (Group Publishing, 2012)

Thursday, April 29, 2010

We lived on Long Island for about five years. That's when the kids were little.
The schools were always on an austerity budget.
We had one lone policeman patrolling mucho square miles.
They used to turn off our street lights to save money.
At the time (and this was 20 years ago) we were paying about six thousand dollars a year for property taxes. I don't know why. We sure weren't seeing the benefit.
But someone was enjoying our six thousand dollars.

I saw a little example of this kind of robbery and waste just last week when I was flying to and from San Diego.
It was bad enough when they started charging fifteen dollars per bag. Now it's twenty-five dollars.
I don't know why.
I gotta print my own ticket. And if I don't do it close to the twenty-four hours prior-to-departure time, they stick me with a number four.
That means I have to wait until all the overhead bins are taken by overstuffed carry-ons 'cause nobody else wanted to pay the twenty-five dollars per bag to check their luggage.
I go up to the do-it-yourself check-in kiosk. (they used to have someone there to answer your questions) and tried to scan my e-ticket.
Didn't work. (No one's there to help, remember?)
So I type in my confirmation number instead.
A guy steps forward behind the kiosk and instructs me to lift my bag onto the scale.
He's about a foot taller and looks like a line-backer, but I've got to do the lifting.
For my twenty-five dollars, the man puts a sticky tag on my bag and checks to make sure I'm who I say I am.
I'm the last person to board 'cause I got stuck with a number four on my boarding pass.
I click my lap belt, take out my four dollar, one ounce bag of airport chocolate covered almonds (remember, they don't even give you free pretzels anymore) and my book.
I plug in my courtesy headset and listen to - no, I can't listen 'cause the headset doesn't work.

I don't mind spending the money to travel, but I'd sure like to get the same amount of service I used to for the same amount of money.
Why is life like that?
Why does everything decompose: society, governments, services, courtesy, price of gas, price of education, price of everything?

God doesn't break down. He never grows grumpier, or greedier, or chincy-er.
He's always the same, you can always count on Him, He never gives you second best, He's the best and He offers the best.
Why can't the world be like God?
"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights who does not change like shifting shadows." (James 1:17)

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