Bored as a Gourd

I'm looking over a list of Arkansas events for this weekend, and here are some of my choices:

~Beginners Gourd Workshop

~Alice In Wonderland ballet

~Greek Food Festival

~Cruisin' in the Rock car show

~Loose Caboose Festival (what exactly do they mean by "loose caboose"?)

~Crawdad Days Music Festival

~Evening Kayak and Dinner Cruise

~The Impressionists and Their Influence Exhibit

~Kids Fishing Derby

~and the 20th Annual Atkins Picklefest

I want to go to the Picklefest! Sadly, it's at the bottom of the list. And I don't know where Atkins is.

Here's what I'm thinking as I look over this list: I could be miserable here. I could be bored and negative and lonely. (Well, scratch that. I'm surrounded by family members and old friends. I'd have to try really hard to be lonely. I might actually want to be lonely by October.) See, I can try to be miserable, or I can try to be happy. I have a choice. I always have a choice. Whatever my circumstance may be, I can choose to assign it whatever meaning I want.

Of course moving to Arkansas for eight months is not a true tragedy. (And a few Arkansans just got their feelings hurt because I likened the two.) But, enjoying and embracing Southern culture isn't quite the same as grieving the loss of a friend or a broken marriage. So, I guess my opinion is limited circumstantially. I'm not speaking to life-altering, heart-wrenching loss. I'm speaking to, Okay, This Is My Life, So What Am I Going To Do With It?

This is my life. And my life consists of so many people and events over which I have absolutely no control. But I have control of myself, my mind. I control myself. Nobody makes me feel or say or think or do anything. I can have a negative internal reaction, and still rein it in and make it captive to, in my case, the Love of Christ. I can say or do something selfish or hurtful, and still humble myself and apologize--like, for real apologize. What I'm realizing is that no person and no situation can make me do anything. I am free of that. And that freedom was at a Great Cost. I will not cheapen it.

So I choose to be happy. I choose to Love. Sometimes Love is hard and says, "No, not on my watch." Love also says, "Yes! Enjoy your childhood," or, "Enjoy the wife of your youth," or, "Pour your heart out. I will listen."

I am free to choose. In His Mercy, He forgives when I make the wrong choice...and still lets me choose.

So this weekend, we'll see the Impressionist and Their Influence in the world of art. We'll hopefully taste huge portions of Greek food and enjoy Greek dancing. Maybe we'll even get to climb a small mountain in west Little Rock and snag a Mommy-Daughter date to the ballet. Maybe, just maybe. But one thing is for sure: we are going to have a dang good time together as a family. Ain't nobody messin' with that! ;)

Silliness

This has been a long and busy month. My account of the busyness, though, would most assuredly be boring and mundane. Perhaps in a shining moment of recollection I will remember something both entertaining and enlightening. But it's not happening right now. So, I'm going to post this silly video of Li'l Bit. It is always interesting to open up the computer and see what she did for those quiet 2 hours during nap time.

The Thing About Boundaries

In a southern, Christian culture, there is much more division on the subject of drinking. Alcohol, that is. Politically it is much more frowned upon as there are "dry counties" all over the place--you can't even buy it. From a social perspective, I grew up thinking that if someone drank it meant they either weren't a Christian or had had a falling out with the Almighty. Of course, in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, they have no problem whatsoever with alcohol consumption, because the tax on it is so stinking high--and they're liberals and couldn't care less about your relationship with the Almighty. Socially and politically it is much more the norm, and hardly ever the faux pas. But here's the interesting thing: every single time I bought or ordered alcohol in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Vermont, Maryland, Maine I was carded. Every single time. Since I've been in Arkansas I've made plenty of trips to the liquor store and ordered a few glasses of wine at local restaurants. And do you know how many times I've been asked for I.D. here?

Once.

Once.

That instance was only because Walmart has a strict policy that minors cannot sell alcohol. So my adorable, pudgy cheeked cashier couldn't even touch the bottle. He had to call his manager over, and she, of course, asked for I.D. Because he was a minor, no doubt.

Here is the paradox: drinking is so faux pas, but in actuality, it might actually be far easier for minors to get it here.

~~~

This paradox has me thinking about something that I've been wondering about for a very long time. Boundaries. Yes, that blessed buzz word, that means who-knows-what to each individual who hears it. Let me take the liberty of attempting to lay down a general definition.

In my opinion "boundaries" is when you are able to decipher between what is your responsibility and what is not. A simple question I often ask myself is, "Is this my problem? Or is it theirs?"

Ah, now there's the problem.

Back to that paradoxical Christian culture...there's a common speed bump Christians* encounter when trying to lay down their own healthy boundaries. If boundaries are not selfish then they are lacking in forgiveness. There it is. To claim the freedom to say, "No, not in my life", one is either being selfish or has not forgiven an offender. I feel that boundaries are socially frowned upon, but there is so much more danger and bondage as a result. Everyone wants to do what they want to do, but nobody wants to say no. Enter in Manipulation and Anger. Bondage.

I've found that boundaries are one of two things: a frowned upon buzz word, powerless, tiresome; or, more commonly, a conversation killer. Try to talk about the true issues surrounding boundaries, and you'll get blank stares. That's the thing about boundaries. They are hard. Being able to live ones life honestly seeking, What is my responsibility and what is not, is really, really hard. So much honesty is required to actually get to that answer, that one has no excuse whatsoever to not follow through on what they've discovered is their responsibility. It's hard. Finding the truth and acting on that truth can seem insurmountable. But the truth shall set you free. Truly!

And saying no is hard. Nobody wants to be the bad guy. (Unless you're one of the few natural-born Devil's Advocates.) We all want to be accepted--even a Devil's Advocate. So, it actually challenges our selfish nature to point out something unacceptable and say, No, not on my watch! We Christians discourage boundaries and call them selfish, but they actually protect the ones who need protecting. Love is willing to be the bad guy.

*I know this isn't exclusive to Christianity. It just seems to be the most commonly played card within.