There Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch!

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I don’t usually write about controversial things. I like my blogs to be pleasant and funny and inspirational. However, there are times that I wonder and I puzzle and I freak out about things that irritate me. We all have those little things that irritate us and we keep silent because we don’t want to offend anyone. We don’t want to make our friends mad. We tell ourselves it doesn’t matter and it is just us. We are the only ones bothered by some things, small things that are happening.

In the past years I have observed the “something” that irritates me many times. I have expressed my opinion openly at organizations and functions that I have attended and groups that I have volunteered at, many times to be scoffed at and told I am being ridiculous, overly sensitive. Perhaps I am and perhaps I need to let what is irritating me go on into the abyss. I appear to be one of the few that has a problem with donation baskets sitting at a place before the plates, before someone can pick up their meal, at functions that are publicized as free, so that those that do not have the means to pay for a meal can be fed.

This mornings devotion that I read by Max Lucado put into words what I have been feeling for a long time. This is this mornings devotion. I will post the mp3 link at the end of this blog. Here is what he said:

When people are refused access to Christ by those closest to him, the result is empty, hollow religion.  Ugly religion.

Hard to believe?  Yet it happens—even in the church. It happens when a church spends more time discussing the style of its sanctuary than it does the needs of the hungry. It happens when a church is known more for its stance on an issue than its reliance upon God. It happens when we think Jesus has more important things to do than to be bothered by such insignificant people.

Christ thought otherwise. Jesus felt sorry for the blind men and touched their eyes, and at once they could see.  In that moment, of all the people, it was the blind who really saw Jesus.

From And The Angels Were Silent

This devotion hit a nerve inside of me that has been nudging me for a long time. We, in our churches and communities advertise things for free and we say we don’t expect people to pay, but do we? Maybe the devotion was a nudge to write this blog about something that has bothered me for a long time. Why do we have such a hard time giving something away to those who need it? We say we don’t but the suggestion is front and center that nothing is free.

Perhaps we don’t really believe that there are those that can’t pay. Perhaps we don’t really believe that those in need live among us in our communities and our churches because they dress well, are clean, and appear to not have any problems. Can’t we always tell those in need by the way they dress? Do we look at them as the people from “there” and not those “who belong depending on how they dress?” Is there a distinction if you put everyone in a room sharing a free meal?

It’s not always easy attending what is supposed to be a free meal and watching those ahead of you in line dropping in a $10 or $20 bill. If you have pride, you want to avoid that feeling that maybe once, you could do that but at this point, you may need that free meal and it is hard to swallow that pride and walk past that basket.

If I put myself in that person’s shoes and maybe I am too sensitive, but few would know that at times money for food has been scarce in my life and I have looked at that basket and felt bad because I could not contribute. Instead of enjoying the meal I felt ashamed that I was at a point in my life that I have never been at before and I could not afford the $10.00 or the $20.00 to drop in that basket.

I live in a rural area where people have pride and are used to taking care of themselves. We have good, caring people in our communities that want to help. There are times perhaps the only way we can help is to put ourselves in each others shoes. We need look beyond the clothing, what we have always known to be true and get past our ideas that perhaps what we are doing is always the right way.

I have never been homeless. We, for the most part have always been able to pay our bills. I do not know what it is like to walk in those shoes. I have not been hungry, just grocery challenged at times when a free meal was welcomed. Those that read this might not believe that I am telling the truth about being financially challenged at times in our life. We have businesses, we are educated, we live in a nice house, we pay our bills and we might look to the world like we always have it together or maybe we just think we look that way. But we have had those times when our situation was iffy.  That is why I say that we need to look beyond that donation basket at the beginning of a line of people that appear that they can afford to drop in some money.

Rural communities are a wonderful place to live. They take care of each other. People in rural communities have pride and they have always paid their way. We don’t see the homeless on the streets. We don’t have people begging on the streets for money for food. But they are there. Our food shelves are busy. We take a few hours out of our week to pack lunches for the school children. We take a few hours out of our week to open our food shelves and provide meals. We take great pride in the fact that we house food shelves and put on free meals so others can eat. We do that but we don’t really take the time to try and put ourselves in their place and understand what a collection basket possibly conveys to those attending the meal or even having coffee. It is free but it conveys the idea that you should pay.

I am not saying we don’t need donations to fund coffee hour, or the free community meals. We do. There has to be a better way to ask for donations such as a sign that says “If you want to make a donation to this meal, please leave your money  at the basket by the door on the way out. It is less intrusive and more private. No one sees who gives and no one is made to feel inadequate. Just an idea.

How does Max Lucado’s devotion tie into this. This devotion gave me pause in wondering what is important in my life. Do I discuss the sanctuary more than the needs of the hungry? Do I rely on God for help in this area? And do I go along with the thinking that Jesus is more important than being bothered by such insignificant people? And if I do, what can I do to change that?

Writing this blog post is a start.

What can you do?

There is a saying and it is this; “There but for the grace of God, go I”.

Where will you find the donation basket the next time you attend a “free meal”?

http://www.maxlucado.com/media/2014/02.05.14.mp3

Revive The Greeting Card!

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Column: Something About Nothing, by Julie Seedorf printed in the Albert Lea Tribune February 3.

The United States Postal Service is raising its rates. It is partly my fault. The reason I partially blame myself is that I am memory-challenged when remembering to send people cards for birthdays, Christmases, baby births and times of illness, sympathy and friendship.

I like to get the cards. I keep the people in my prayers and always have good intentions but never seem to get it done.

This is not something new that has developed since I have become an adult. When I was in grade school and high school, I would write letters to my aunts and uncles and cousin but they would never get mailed. When they came to visit and occasionally their visits were yearly, I would hand deliver the letters to them.

This is my greeting card showing greeting cards.
This is my greeting card showing greeting cards.

There is one problem, and that is the fact that I love to buy greeting cards, and I love to make greeting cards. I must have a problem with that in many areas of my life since I love cookbooks and recipes but don’t like to cook. Maybe it is the author in me that likes to see things in print.

Since I am changing careers I need to readjust and change out my office so I can work more efficiently with my new writing career. It is amazing the joy it creates when you find an object that you have been looking for. In the midst of the mess I found so many greeting cards. As I looked and sorted the beautiful cards in to categories I wondered how in the world I ever accumulated so many cards. Then I felt a little sad that I never sent the cards to the people they were meant for.

Some of the cards that I found were perfect for someone in their young adult years, but the person that I had in mind when I bought the card is no longer a young adult, in fact they might be called a senior citizen now.

In my meandering of thoughts it crossed my mind that greeting cards are probably obsolete too or they will be soon. I hope not. History is represented in greeting cards. I have the Valentine cards that my mom got when she was young. I have the Valentines that my parents gave me when I was young, and when I read them it brings tears and good memories to my heart.

I am de-cluttering, but there are some things that are keepers in my heart, and those are the Valentines of my youth. The birthday cards from certain people from my youth that I still have. It is the Christmas cards, not all but some, that I have kept over the years from people that I miss because they are living with God now. Those cards give me comfort, make me smile, occasionally make me cry and bring back memories.

My mother never threw anything out, and I was very vocal in letting my opinion be known. There are items that did not need to be kept, and I would still be vocal about them if she were here. She was a child of the Great Depression, and that made her at times hoard things.

When it was time for me to go through her things I found the treasure of her youth. I found a scrapbook she had made of old Valentines. I found cards and letters of sympathy from my dad’s funeral. I hadn’t paid much attention then to all the cards and letters of caring he received when he was sick and when he died. Reading them twenty years later as an adult made me appreciate the impact he had on people’s lives. I would have never had known that.

As I look at the cards, the many, many cards, I have in my stash to send to people I made a decision. This year I will try over the year to mail every single card that I have to someone. As crazy as it may seem, I might send a Christmas card in July. I am not going to pay attention to season but I will pay attention to the get-well and sympathy cards and make sure they go to the right place at the right time. Sending a sympathy card could get a little tricky if the person were still alive, though many years ago when my uncle’s favorite team, the Los Angeles Dodgers, lost the World Series, I felt it did warrant a sympathy card. I was sure my uncle mourned for the next year about that.

Will I live up to my new resolution? It’s not a New Year’s one. Join me in sending cards to friends, family and strangers this year. It may change their day, it may make them smile and … it might keep the Postal Service in business. Challenge your friends. Let’s start a card revolution in 2014.

I have started a page on Facebook called “Revive the Greeting Card.” Hopefully it will help me in my resolve to send out greeting cards. Hopefully the members of the group will keep me on task.

If you are a Facebook person look for the page “Revive the Greeting Card “and join us. Take the time this year to send some greetings to someone, it may change their day.

Granny: My Kids Have Turned Into My Parent?

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http://inspiration photo: MOTHERS_LOVE.jpg

I finished the next book in my Fuchsia, Minnesota series this week and popped it off to Cozy Cat Press. In my new book, that hopefully will be titled Granny Skewers A Scoundrel, I spent some time thinking about the relationship of parents as they get into their sixties and beyond and their adult children.

Granny’s adult children, Thor, Starshine  and Penelope play a larger part in this book as do Franklin’s children. In Granny Hooks A Crook, Book one of he Fuchsia, Minnesota Series, Granny is forever in danger of her children sending her to an assisted living or the wrinkle farm, a nursing home. Granny’s age is never mentioned on purpose. Is she in her 60’s, 70’s or 80’s? It is anyone’s guess, as the series continues it will be understood. The reason Granny’s age is up in the air is because of the stereotype we put on older people.

Granny does some unbelievable stuff. Elderly people aren’t supposed to act that way. Would we think differently if the character was in their 20’s or 30’s? We would probably put their strange behavior down to a night of drinking or other weird drugs or their youth.

As I was writing I was thinking about my relationship with my adult children. When my children were young, and still today, I worried about them. They are now in their 30’s and 40’s and I still worry about them but I am not used to them worrying about me. The tide has turned. They have become me. I tried to help my mother when I thought she was at the age she needed help, probably earlier than she did. Now it is our turn for our kids occasionally to try and parent us.

On a recent Minnesota Blizzard night, us old people decided to journey out with the blizzard roaring to spend time with friends. Our children when informed of this journey but at first didn’t believe we were going out and then made sure they heard from us to make sure we got there. How many times have they gave me a hard time when they were younger about calling? It felt kind of daring at our age to do something that we would have done in our youth. It was nothing in those days to bundle up, get in the vehicle, brave the blizzard and spend some time with friends while the blizzard roared outside the window? I have to admit it was exhilarating. I wondered why we didn’t do it more often but then I remembered, we are old, and it isn’t something that we normally do because we might get hurt.

Granny’s kids have a concern that she is going to fall in her flip flops, get lost with her car and is not eating right. My kids, now that they are adults bring food to make sure we are eating right, especially when we are sick. When our finances have been low they have offered money although we didn’t take it. When we balked at going to the doctor they came and took us even though we might protest going to the doctor. They have become us.

Granny does many things to outsmart her kids which doesn’t help her cause any. She likes her independence. My mother was independent and I didn’t understand it and perhaps that is why I make Granny the way she is in my book. It is a way, if my mother up above is watching, for her to know that I am sorry I didn’t understand her independence. I had bought into the stereotype that older people must act a certain way and my mom didn’t fit in. to those guidelines.

I do have to say that I think I learned that stereotype from my Grandmothers and the fact my parents took care of their parents. It was what you did in the 50’s and 60’s. Older people were not as tuned in to health and exercise as they are today. I didn’t know anyone like Granny until I my mother who broke my ideas of what old is. And then, I didn’t appreciate it because I didn’t know how to cope with it.

I expect more and more, my children will want to help me out of love and I will let them. Granny loves Thor, Starshine and Penelope and she would not do anything to hurt them. They would not do anything to hurt her and in the coming books of the series Granny’s children will have a new idea of what aging is. Granny’s children will continue their journey with Granny and learn many things about what it is to age, from the fact, older people can fall in love, dance, and even crawl on their garage roof if they are in good condition. The stubbornness keeps them going and keeps them living, loving and laughing.

My kids want to take care of me. We have switched roles but they also have become my friend. I know in the future I can depend on them if I do need help. Someday our roles might be reversed. God gives us each other to love, to learn and help each other  through the seasons of our lives.

I leave you with a Grannyism, she has instructed her children that if she ever tells them this, they should believe her; “It’s my life, but I forgot where I put it. Help me out and I won’t pout. Don’t remember where it’s gone. Is it on Mavis front lawn?”