I've been married to my man for thirty-two years. I know him better than anyone, his habits, his likes and dislikes, his mannerisms, how he's going to react to things I say and do. And I love him more than anyone else could love him. Of course I don't actually tell him, but I sure wish he'd listen to my advice about how to handle problems at work. And finances. And chores around the house. And how to drive.
I've been raising kids for just about as long. I think I know my kids! Too bad they don't always listen to or respect my incredible insight about where they should live or what kind of job is best for them or where they should go to college. After all, I'm thirty or so years older than they are. Don't you think they'd realize that I've learned a thing or two more than they have in those thirty years? Of course I don't offer my advice. But it sure stings that they don't ask for it.
Oh, and when I'm sitting in the choir rows on stage, during rehearsal, can't those sopranos tell they're way under pitch? It's sooooo annoying. I sure wish the choir director would tell them. But I'm not going to say anything. It's not my place.
I'd sure like to help those basses get their rhythm straight, though. They've made the same darn-tootin mistake for the third time!
You wouldn't believe how inconsiderate some people can be at the grocery store. I'd never leave my shopping cart in the middle of the aisle like that. Hello! Do they think they're the only ones in the store?
I don't say anything as I try to finagle my cart around theirs. But I do sigh loudly and sometimes roll my eyes as I pass. Such inconsideration.
And driving up and down the canyon three or four times a week? Boy, I sure see a lot of inconsiderate behavior. Now wouldn't you think that all those speeders or under-the-speed-limit drivers would take a hint when they see my driving? I've often told my husband that they ought to invent a machine that you could install on the front of your car that would flash a menu of comments, instructing other drivers to "kindly move over," or to "please stop tail-gating me." Something like that.
I sometimes imagine how great it would be if I could stand at a lectern each week, like our pastor, and kindly advise all my listeners how to do things more efficiently, more considerately. I'd post all my wisdom in signs on the walls. I'd call them: "Dena's Rules."
I'm really the most qualified to do this. Because there are so few people left in this world who possess --as I do-- such exquisite sensitivity to others.
I just hate it when others try to give me advice, don't you? I've seen them do the very things they're advising me not to do. Hypocrites!
What do you think? Should I indeed pursue this idea about seeking a place to lecture each week?
If I hear from enough of you, I'll take it as affirmation that God has called me to this unique position.
I'll humbly accept your advice on this question.
Because that's what I am: humble.
I've been raising kids for just about as long. I think I know my kids! Too bad they don't always listen to or respect my incredible insight about where they should live or what kind of job is best for them or where they should go to college. After all, I'm thirty or so years older than they are. Don't you think they'd realize that I've learned a thing or two more than they have in those thirty years? Of course I don't offer my advice. But it sure stings that they don't ask for it.
Oh, and when I'm sitting in the choir rows on stage, during rehearsal, can't those sopranos tell they're way under pitch? It's sooooo annoying. I sure wish the choir director would tell them. But I'm not going to say anything. It's not my place.
I'd sure like to help those basses get their rhythm straight, though. They've made the same darn-tootin mistake for the third time!
You wouldn't believe how inconsiderate some people can be at the grocery store. I'd never leave my shopping cart in the middle of the aisle like that. Hello! Do they think they're the only ones in the store?
I don't say anything as I try to finagle my cart around theirs. But I do sigh loudly and sometimes roll my eyes as I pass. Such inconsideration.
And driving up and down the canyon three or four times a week? Boy, I sure see a lot of inconsiderate behavior. Now wouldn't you think that all those speeders or under-the-speed-limit drivers would take a hint when they see my driving? I've often told my husband that they ought to invent a machine that you could install on the front of your car that would flash a menu of comments, instructing other drivers to "kindly move over," or to "please stop tail-gating me." Something like that.
I sometimes imagine how great it would be if I could stand at a lectern each week, like our pastor, and kindly advise all my listeners how to do things more efficiently, more considerately. I'd post all my wisdom in signs on the walls. I'd call them: "Dena's Rules."
I'm really the most qualified to do this. Because there are so few people left in this world who possess --as I do-- such exquisite sensitivity to others.
I just hate it when others try to give me advice, don't you? I've seen them do the very things they're advising me not to do. Hypocrites!
What do you think? Should I indeed pursue this idea about seeking a place to lecture each week?
If I hear from enough of you, I'll take it as affirmation that God has called me to this unique position.
I'll humbly accept your advice on this question.
Because that's what I am: humble.
LOL.
ReplyDeleteI'm laughing because I have had those thoughts flit through my mind too.
Thanks Dena but I'll continue to allow the Holy Spirit to have that place in my life. However, for those who don't have anyone to guide them I nominate you.
Thanks, Diane, I'm ready and willing to offer my advice to anyone who'll listen!
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