Category: God

*%?@#!* [Explicative / cussing / foul language / bad / harsh words]

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C’mon, you all know you’ve said them, thought them,
or at least listened to them.
When I was younger, I thought cussing was “cool”.
Once I incorporated a few choice words into my vocabulary,
I instantly felt “cooler”.
I was culturally relevant.
One day, during my 7th grade year, I was caught saying sh*t on the playground.
I was given the punishment of standing on the sidelines, while the rest of my classmates finished their recess break.
I was a little embarrassed, but really didn’t think it was a big deal that warranted such an unjust punishment.
I used bad words flippantly, off-handedly, carelessly. Cussing was a part of my every day vocab.
Soon after was a time in my life when I thought something called “Perfection” existed… And could be attained. By me.
Ha!
It was hard – every time I wanted to resist the urge to cuss when I was angry, upset or just feeling “cool”, I would slip up.
An explicative would come flying out of my mouth.
Sometimes loudly
Sometimes softly
Sometimes thru a clenched jaw and gritted teeth.
The words just hung there
In space
Floating in the air
Unable to be erased
But not unforgiveable
I believed a lie – if I followed Jesus, I would / could / should work toward perfection – which included no more cussing.
Then after becoming a mom, I discovered new reasons to cuss.  I stubbed my toe on a toy.
The kids are fighting.
I’m stressed out, I’m tired, I’m hungry.
We are running late…again.
Cussing became more complicated when my oldest daughter Soleil (then 2 years old) repeated the ‘F’ word after hearing me say it.
Every time I told her – “don’t say that word, mommy shouldn’t say it either”, she would repeat.
This went on for about 2 weeks, until I stopped bringing as much attention to it.  Thankfully, the ‘F’ word is not a part of her (now seven year old) vocabulary.
My life went on and I am older, wiser, still not perfect and I still cuss from time to time.
But I don’t just want to cuss for the hell of it.
I now have a new appreciation for foul language.
I use my harsh words in prayer, and wield them toward the devil.  There is nothing nice I can say about him.
There are things in this world that are unjust, inhumane, and evil – they need to be called out –
And cussed out.

Noted. By Les Babs

The Musical History of Oklahoma

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Last week, I was running on Oklahoma soil blacktop, and I was reminded of my glory days in High School.  No, not my glory days of running track or cross country, but of singing – in vocal music.  Those were the days… During our Thanksgiving visit with my family, I was able to have breakfast with three of my good friends from High School.  These girls were my vocal music cohorts. We spent a lot of time together in music, performing, competing and harmonizing.  Imagine “Glee”, but not really.  The best part about our reunion over coffee and Panera bagels was when we broke out into song with a four-part harmony.  Nope.  That didn’t really happen, although it could have… The best part was just being.  Being with old friends who knew me when and still know me now.  We don’t sing together anymore, and we don’t see each other very often, but time picks up where we left off.  I am thankful.
Side note for my musical cohorts: Ok, seriously this picture is way. too. old.  Girls, we need an updated photo pronto.  My next visit, a new picture should be first on our agenda… Now on with the story.
As the wind came sweeping down the plains during my run, I was also reminded of my vocal glory days in college.  I attended the University of Oklahoma and was in the musical “Oklahoma” – very appropriate. It was during the first week of this vocal music experience that I decided I hated performing. However, I had to fulfill my six week, 12 hour a day contract of stage building, set up, costume design and performing.  Six weeks later, it was over.  I was free.  I said good-bye to the set, the stage and those musical peeps, knowing I would probably never see them again.  I was thankful. Although we were working closely together for those six weeks, there was never depth to our musical friendship.  They did not know me.
There is something amazing about being with people who know you.  There is something about knowing what you are made to do in this life.  It is a gift.  I knew I was made for something more.  My musical gifts were just that – Gifts!  I knew I had to start giving back the gift I had been given; back to God who gave it to me.  So in those college glory days began my journey as a Worshipper.  A Worshipper who has a gift to lead others into God’s presence.  This is something I am known for now.  I am thankful.

Noted. By Les Babs

Brush

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Those who spend enough time with me find out the inevitable, I have a short fuse.  I get angry.  I get irritated about the simplest of things and often my way of “handling things” can get a little ugly.
I yell.  I cry.  I sometimes
 kick and hit inanimate objects. I (almost) look like my (almost) two year old.
Over the years, I’ve broken two or three hairbrushes in the midst of my outbursts.
But most recently, Soleil’s brush – the only one she will use (and we’ve tried out several) – was broken in half.
“I didn’t do it!”  I shouted with relief.
No, this time it was an innocent accident.
Selah grabbed it off of the counter, it fell down and broke into two pieces.
How can a brush break into two pieces, if not slammed against something?  …I wondered.
Well, I bought it at the dollar store… I should’ve known.
Soleil will not brush her hair now, so she goes to school looking slightly disheveled.
I tried coaxing her into using my brush…but to no avail.
She uses her fingers to comb thru her tangles, and that suffices – for now.
Brushes are expensive these days… so this time I tried out the Target dollar spot – and had high hopes of this brush lasting Soleil’s lifetime…
Alas, it did not – she gave it a whirl and half way thru her fine hair, she caved and rejected this brush.
So, I resorted to extraordinary measures.  I bought a baby brush – the ol’ standby.  And it works just fine for her fine locks.  I’m thankful that God knows every hair on her head (Matthew 10:30).  I’m certain that He desires to take good care of them, just like I do.
The baby brush cost $4. Anger can be costly too. Trust broken. Feelings hurt. Bitterness lingering. Souls wounded.
I’ve learned many a lesson from broken brushes. I need to spend my ‘angry time’ wisely. On things that I should be angry about – God, break our hearts for the things that make your heart break – not Brushes.

Noted. By Les Babs

I THINK I MIGHT HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY

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I think I might have something to say…..Ya,I know,  there are many, manyblogs out there that run the gamut of recipes to research and the last thing this world needs is one more voice. But, I think I have something to say. I didn’t always think I had something to say… I use to think that my voice, my thoughts, my random ideas on life were no big deal and no different from anyone else. I use to think that this world has become so over saturated with so much input that what could one more voice, one more person’s words really add to the already claustrophobic atmosphere of expression, the cacophony of the communicated word. But then, I had an epiphany…. maybe, just maybe someone out there might want to know what I have to say. Maybe they will be able to relate to a story, a perspective, an idea, and what I have to say might bring some life, some laughter, some sense of movement, or another step to urge them on their journey. So now you have it. I hope you enjoy the entries @ BE A DUDE and each shot of espresso for your soul.  Because we All have something to say, and we all have someone who wants to read about, listen to, and connect with us…. God ( He reads blogs too ya know : ) 

Noted. By Adam Babs