The trouble with lazy people is that they rarely have to good sense to be unambitious.

And the trouble with strength and solidity is that it renders you invisible. No one notices concrete posts or brick walls, except until they crack and crumble to pieces, bringing everything down with them..

Wait until they decide to spraypaint their names on you.

This is not what my resignation letter will say. But I'll be thinking it.

am tired again.

I am tired of working with people whose only view of kingdom has to do with protecting their petty little fiefdoms, no matter what, at whatever cost, and to hell with everyone who gets in their way.

I am tired of working with people whose only view of eternity is the installments on their home loan.

I am tired of working with people whose idea of what is right has to do with whoever's voice is arguing the loudest, especially because often, it is merely the sound of their own, ringing in their heads.

I am tired of working with people whose concept of excellence is based on what other people think, founded on the approval of men, and aligned only with the ideals of whoever signs the checks.

I am tired of working for people for whom spirit is something that comes in a bottle, and must be sold to the masses, despite the fact that they cannot afford it.

I am tired of working with people for whom reality is a matter of consensus, and must be voted on by a majority.

I am tired of working with people whose idea of truth is based on what people want to hear.

I am tired of working with people for whom character is a mere concept, based only on talk, not deeds; and for whom ethics is something only imposed by the advertising board list of guidelines.

I am tired of working with people whose idea of trust is keeping you where they can see you and vice versa, and for whom integrity is a matter of how well the firewalls work.

I am tired of working with people who think nothing of sacrificing the health of a sick child, to finish a commercial.

I am tired of working with people who find nothing wrong with selling cigarettes one day, and an anti-smoking campaign the next.

I am tired of working with people for whom pride is a matter of how many other people they have humiliated.

I am tired of working with people for whom friendship and team oneness is based on a united attack on whoever is weak and powerless at the moment.

I am tired of working with people whose idea of strength and leadership is based on force, and for whom discipline is something only found in a memo.

I am tired of working with people for whom gentleness is a sign of weakness, and whose idea of keeping the peace involves the elimination of those who disagree with their point of view.

I am tired of working with people who would hold on with both hands to an unsavory and unprofitable account, but who would drop a teammate at the first sign of weakness.

I am tired of working with people whose idea of promotion is the demotion of others, who judge performance based on time sheets, bundy clocks and agreeable smiles, rather than talent, effort and results.

And most of all, I am tired of working with people whose ambitions far exceed their ability, intelligence or even willingness to work.

This is what happens when you spend 15 years working in an industry founded on misrepresentation.

I am tired.

Again.

Life's Not Fair.

But God is just.

And merciful, and loving, and kind, and patient, and did I say loving?

Go read your Bible.

The Memory of Truth

People believe what they want to believe. There is nothing you can do about it, nothing you can say to change their mind, no evidence that will convince them to the contrary, especially if said evidence will show them to be much smaller people than they think they are.

It does not make them bad people: It only makes them oblivious. And we all know obliviousness and ignorance is not necessarily equivalent to evil. Until, of course, such someone loses an eye, or his freedom, or desire to live.

But still, people will believe what they want to believe. It is somehow connected to the persistence, or lack thereof, of memory: It is a hazy shade of comfort that people will seek refuge under when truth blazes too hot and too bright, like the noonday sun. So people remember what they wish, what absolves them of guilt, what reassigns blame, what validates what it is they have or have not done.

Memory, after all, is not necessarily the truth, and the connection between belief and honesty is a tenuous thing at best. Honesty has nothing to do with facts, the same way that it has nothing whatsoever to do with reality. What it is has to do with guilt, and absolution and validation and one's perception of one's self.

A person may be absolutely honest, and still be nowhere near recounting the facts as they are in its entirety: not if it would mean the sacrifice of self. It is a rare person who would sacrifice one's innocence, or the perception of the most important being in the universe of him, for the truth: I can only think of one person in the entire history of the world who has so done.

And He got crucified.

Every Four Year Old Can Draw

I am beginning to suspect that most people's internal critics were birthed by an external one.

No one ever thinks, "Oh, I can't do that". Not from the start. Not until someone else tell you that you can't.

The self-editing, the self-criticism, the self-doubt is not a talent you were born with. It is something you are taught.

My advice? Fire your internal critic.

And choose a better teacher.

The Good Sons

I'm the eldest child, and my daddy's favorite. In fact, everyone says I look exactly like my dad: I've got his eyes, his bad skin, his color, his hair, even his walk. The only thing he didn't give me was his speedy metabolism. Darn.

Anyway.

Like most good, obedient eldest children, I always had a problem with some parts of the Bible. If you're the eldest child, I bet you know what I'm talking about.

I mean, come on. Why did God say "Jacob I have loved, but Esau I have hated." Say what? I thought God loved everybody. Why did he hate Esau? Esau was a good boy, did what his mommy and daddy wanted. They told him to hunt, he hunted. Daddy told him to get stuff for stew, he did. And Jacob, sneaky younger brother that he was, cheated him out of his inheritance. It was just a blessing, but it meant Esau would always be second fiddle to sneaky ol' Jacob till the end of time. But God loved him and hated Esau. What's up with that? I'm not even going to go into how annoying Jacob's son Joseph probably was, saying he had dreams where his brothers and parents would bow down to him, showing off the coat daddy gave; to the point that his brothers decided to throw him down a pit, and then sell him to the slave traders. God knows how often I wanted to sell my sisters off by the pound. But I digress.

Then there's poor Cain. Why, in heaven's name, did He reject Cain's nice clean fruits and veggies, and preferred Abel's stinky sheep? I mean, I can just imagine why that pissed off Cain so much he resorted to murder. Bet he was thinking, "My, that Abel's just the biggest suck-up-- and those sheep, he didn't even MAKE those sheep! That's so annoying. I think I'll kill him. " God knows, I was close to murdering my second sister when I was a kid. She got away with things that got me spankings. Then again, she's also considered the "black sheep" of the family. Which brings me to another story I had a huge -- the biggest, actually -- problem with.

The Prodigal Son. Now that guy was a jerk. Took his inheritance in advance and just blew it on wine, women and karaoke. Or whatever else they had in those days. So he runs out of money, ends up hungry in a pig sty, and decides to come running back to daddy. And what does daddy do? Does he kick him out? Nah. Does he even say "I told you so?" Nah. Takes the huge ring off his finger (probly the one with the family crest, I bet) puts it on the prodigal, takes the cloak off his back, puts it on the stinky pigsty dude too, and tells his good elder son to roast the fattest calf they have and throw a party for the homecoming. No wonder elder brother grumbled while roasting the fatted calf.

Ever since I was a kid, that was my problem. It really annoyed the heck out of me. I mean, that wasn't fair. Esau and the rest, they were good kids. Like me. Worked hard. Like me. Did everything their daddies said. Like me. Took care of the family and the family business. Like me. So what was wrong with them?

What was wrong with them was that they didn't think there was anything wrong with them. Like me.

The first order of business in getting right and close and personal with God is repentance. You can't do that if you think you're good, and you can't be sorry if you think you haven't done anything wrong.

You can't humble yourself if you think you're perfect. It's called pride, and it's a terrible sin, because the more you have it, the less you think you need God. The less you think you need God, the less chance there is you're going to come humbly running to Him, begging for His mercy. Like me, those sons thought they deserved special treatment. (Again, like me.) Cain was proud of his produce, thinking it was all his brilliant farming that yielded those cool veggies and stuff. He wanted to be praised, not to praise the Lord. Abel, on the other hand, knew he was only taking care of the sheep that God made, and gave back the sheep, and the glory. Esau was most likely proud too, he-man, cool hunter, daddy's little man. "Hey, dad, guess who brought home the bacon today! " Oh wait, make that mutton, bacon was a no-no for those guys. But. Anyway.

It's pride, plain and simple. So you work and work and work, grumbling because you think you're doing everything, but not getting blessed, and wondering why, when you're not doing the one and only thing He really wants you to do: repent, and tell Him you need Him.

And there you are, grumble-thinking "I'm the good one, dammit, why are you giving them everything?!!! It isn't fair!"

Then God says, like the daddy in the story, " Oh? Haven't I? Weren't you always here and with me? Wasn't all I have yours for the asking?" But you never asked. It was all just a chore to you. At least that's what I think the daddy said.

And one last thing. The biggest mistake we can ever make, like me, is to think we're nothing at all like the prodigal son. In the eyes of God, ever since Adam, we all are the same as the pigsty guy. Stinky, smelly, far away from Him and His love, protection and provision, until we decide to repent and ask to be under Him again.

And yes, it isn't fair. That's a blessing. Because if we're going by what's fair, by God's own rules, man, we'd be dead now.

I'm not the good child, none of us are. There was only One good and perfect Son, and He had to die on the cross for us pigsty people. And because He did, we all can come home, and enjoy the party daddy's holding for us, in honor of our return.