Have You Any Right to be Angry?

Jonah 4-4So, how about you?–Do you have any right to be angry? Let me explain a little further. Most everyone knows the story of Jonah and the whale. Jonah was called by God to go to Nineveh and Jonah was like “I don’t think sooo!” and he hops a boat to Tarshish. There is a giant storm that causes sheer panic to set in around the boat. Eventually the men on the boat figure out the storm is caused by Jonah’s disobedience to God, so first they try to row back to shore and drop Jonah off, but the storm gets worse and they are forced to throw him overboard. A big fish (whale) comes and swallows Jonah. Jonah prays in the belly of the whale and 3 days later God causes the fish to vomit him to dry land. THEN Jonah decides he should probably do what God called him to do.

I know I already talked about Gideon in another post, but isn’t it kind of funny that each person who is called in the bible has a different, yet similar reaction to being called. *-PANIC!-* Like Gideon didn’t even believe an angel coming to him, and required constant reassurance. Jonah just flat out took the flight option out of his panic. He was like “Catch ya later God!–I’m totally freaked.”


Guys. I totally thought the story stopped there. Somewhere in my childhood, somewhere perhaps between nursery class and junior church, chapter 4 was omitted. The chapter where Jonah is mad at God for saving the city of Nineveh. He is MAD that God sent him to the city of Nineveh to preach their doom and that when God saw the people turn from their wicked ways he decided to spare them. He was mad! Mad enough he wanted to die. (*cue the drama* Jonah is a tad dramatic boys and girls.)

I think this is an especially important point to be made. How many times have you been called by God to do something, minister to someone, do a specific job, then the outcome isn’t what you expected and then you’re kind of (or down right) MAD. We are called and whether we admit it or not, we kind of romanticize what the outcome will be.

Ok, Jesus I will totally go and tell all of these people about You and they will come to church and they will give their lives to you and they will bow down and proclaim you as King and then they will go and they will build a church somewhere and bring tons of other people to you and it’s going to be this big wonderful EXTRAVAGANT thing all because you called me to tell them about you.

Uh. Hold on just a second. Who gives us the authority to determine the outcome? And then do we have any right to be angry when the outcome isn’t what we expected it to be?

Here’s what happens with Jonah:

“O Lord, is this not what I said when I was still at home? That is why I was so quick to flee to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity. Now, O Lord, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live.” Jonah 4:1-4  (A little dramatic, don’t you think? Goodness Jonah, pull yourself together man!!)

And that’s when God says to him: “Have you any right to be angry?”

God uses another circumstance to teach Jonah a lesson. Jonah leaves the city and makes himself a shelter to wait and see what happens to the city. While he is there God makes a vine grow to provide some shade for Jonah and protect him from the heat. He is SERIOUSLY excited about it. Then, when morning comes, God makes a worm eat the vine and it kills it. Jonah is BEYOND upset. (You guys, he wants to die again. I mean, really.) God asked him again “Do you have a right to be angry about the vine?” Jonah 4:9

AND GET THIS (I mean, seriously Jonah…you’re a little dramatic brother.) He says, “I do. I am angry enough to die.” I just get this vision of a small child reasoning with a parent. I know this behavior may seem just as ridiculous to you, but how many of us…how many times have YOU or I acted this way with God? Like a whining child. As soon as something doesn’t happen precisely the way we intended, we are ready to “die” or to give up, or throw in the towel.

So God gives Jonah, and in the process ME, a little wake up call. He says this:

“You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and it died overnight. But Nineveh has more than 120,000 people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?” Jonah 4:10-11.

                                          –>Are we angry about something that we didn’t tend or make grow?
                                          –>Are we angry about the outcome of something God has called us to do?
                                          –>”Have you any right to be angry?”

I’ll leave you with this. A couple weeks ago Roman had an issue at work and I told him “You have every RIGHT to be angry.” His response to me was “No, I have every REASON to be angry, but I have no RIGHT.”

Take a few minutes today to consider the things that cause you anger. Then consider the thought

Have you any right to be angry?


Saving Lives in High Water Yoga Pants

This weekend we had a family yard sale. Big shindigs like these when done with family can get quite messy. The random bickering about where to place things, exactly what prices should go on what, discussions and/or insinuations that one person or another has done more work and then the fact that we ended up $20 short in the end, made this yard sale a success. It has also caused complete and utter exhaustion.

The event took place Friday and Saturday and we had to determine how to feed everyone as we took shifts manning the pre-owned junk that scattered the yard. On Friday we made our family-favorite cheeseburger soup and Saturday it was decided that one of us would run into Kroger to grab lunch meat, chips and other various snacks. That “one of us” ended up being me.

That morning I was startled awake by my mom pounding on my bedroom door; I had slept through my alarm and had 10 minutes to get dressed, pull my hair into the highest, messiest looking bun and run out the door. The outfit I chose was AWFUL because I was in a hurry and I figured I was only going to be sitting behind a card table all day so it didn’t matter. So, off I went to Kroger in my black spandex, high water yoga pants that gave me the biggest muffin top (what’s the pastry bigger than a muffin?…because THAT is the kind of blob that was hanging off the waist of these yoga pants) EVER, my navy blue flip flops, and my greasy messy bun.

As I walked through the produce section I could literally feel my pants smacking into my ankles with every gust of wind. I thought if I walked faster the trip would be over sooner and I wouldn’t have to suffer through shopping in this hideous get up as long; however, that plan was thwarted by the fact that the faster I walked, the more wind my pants caught and the harder those puppies flapped around my ankles. I just pictured the looks I was getting as people looked down and saw these pant legs flapping in the wind. Legitimately I think people took my pants as a warning of a second great flood. After they finished their grocery shopping, they went directly home to draft up plans to build an ark.

So I continued my journey, trying INCREDIBLY hard to keep my head down and my trip fast. BUT WOULDN’T YOU KNOW, the harder you try to do something like that, the more it just doesn’t work. I bumped into a little girl from preschool and her father…HOW EMBARRASSING. Then as I’m buying lunch meat, the lady standing next to me strikes up a conversation. 

Me (to the guy at the deli): Yes, I’d like one pound of turkey and half a pound of the bologna that’s on sale.
Random Lady: Have you ever tried the bologna that (insert random brand name here) makes?
Me: No, I haven’t. I assume it’s good?
RL: YES! My boss from Florifinos…he used to live in (insert the state here)…absolutely loves this bologna…comes highly recommended….grew up in a Jewish neighborhood…should realllllyyyy try it….Granville Market sometimes has it….a little pricey….worth every penny…I tried it at a party he had…wife is wonderful…bologna is better than….It is so incredible…

This is the point where I am staring into space inwardly cringing as I imagining all of the random customers who have now seen my ankles peeking out from under these HIDEOUS YOGA PANTS. I imagine they opened a box of plastic spoons from the aisle and proceeded to gouge their eyes out with them.

RL continues: What about Hebrew hotdogs?! They are kosher, I mean I’m not Jewish, but these hotdogs are SOOOO DELICIOUS! Sometimes they are on sale here 2 packs for $7…they weren’t always here….grocery stores don’t always keep them in stock…IGA…Dryden Road Grocery…

I am trying so hard not to look other shoppers in the eyes as I watch them rush to finished their shopping so they can go directly to Lowes to purchase the lumber for their arks…the pants are screaming DOOM.

I finally cut her off.

Me: They sound delicious, maybe sometime I’ll have to try them. Have a good day!

I walk away quickly, so quickly that I forgot the case of water and the pop and had to RETURN to Kroger to shop again wearing the same outfit. When that shopping trip was over, I went directly back to the yard sale, I took those pants off and I stuck a price tag on them. I want someone else to feel the same shame I did when I walked through those aisles.

Okay, not really. I went home and proceeded to wear those pants the rest of the day. I mean, I had to let all of the yard sale customers know to expect the flood!–I was a walking public service announcement.

Simply put, I was saving lives.

I Confess

Adventures in crazy. Legitimately I think at some point I’m going to have to realize that I am part of the problem. The Boss would be proud of me, I am about to confess some “unconfessed” (NOT A WORD) sin in my life.

I can take responsibility for my issues:

1. I don’t like to be told what to do, ESPECIALLY when I feel like, or have predetermined that the person telling me what to do is somehow less educated or less intelligent than I am. Perhaps this is a common thing among humans, or maybe I am a self righteous disgusting human being. I’m not sure, but what I do know is that this is a truth about me.

2. When things get stressful I am quick to freak out, cause myself way more anxiety than necessary and quit.

3. I let issues go unresolved, bottle several things up and then, generally it takes one thing (related or unrelated) to shove me over the edge.

I have a kind spirit, I am easily approachable and I am very quick to accept people for exactly how they are. I believe this makes me a target. I am taken advantage of, I am misinterpreted for being overly easy going. I really don’t know what to make of it, but what I do know is that today everything came to a head.

I received a text message from The Boss stating that she would be late. If you know me or have happened to read through the last several posts I’ve made, you’ll know this isn’t out of the ordinary. I responded to her message saying that I would be at the office when she got there. When I show up to work another co-worker informs me that she has a message from The Boss. She is going to be VERY late, and the materials that I need to complete my job aren’t in the office. She continues with, “So you have two choices: work with me on the floor, or leave and make up your hours another day.” My job isn’t in the store. I’ve never worked in the store. I didn’t take the job to work in the store. More to the point–IT SHOULDN’T HAVE TO HAPPEN BECAUSE MY BOSS SHOULD BE AT WORK. Period.


She had already messaged me. Why not tell me how late she was going to be? Either way…remember earlier when I mentioned I let things bottle up and then it takes a small issue to send me right over the deep end, well HERE IT IS. I told my coworker I would make up my hours. I drove to the temp agency (I should have mentioned before that this job was one that was provided through a temp agency because I only need  part time job through the summer until graduate school and full-time teaching happen) to get advice about my incompetent supervisor.  I was advised to talk to her personally to work out the matter.

I determined that I would go back to work and try to make it through. I pull into the store at noon and her vehicle still isn’t there. I wait a few minutes and then I call her directly. I let her know I’ve been waiting on her for over an hour, to which her response (I can NOT make this stuff up!) is “Well EXCUUUSEEE me!” I was literally shocked–for a few reasons–TO START, she is a GROWN WOMAN!! A GROWN ADULT WOMAN. I literally called to make peace and come to an understanding and was met with animosity, ignorance and unprofessionalism. (Which is her MO, so I don’t know why I’m so shocked.) I explained to her calmly that I wasn’t being rude, meanwhile she is yelling over top of me “THINGS COME UP!… YOU HAVE NO IDEA!… EXCUSE ME FOR BEING AN HOUR LATE!… YOU DON’T HAVE TO MAKE UP THOSE HOURS!…..” My response was as it was before, calm and collected. I tried to explain to her that, indeed, I did need to make up those hours. I tried to reason with her and ask about working a shift a different day, because of the time wasted (an hour and a half at this point) today. She was still yelling incoherently “I HAD TO WORK 18 HOURS ON SATURDAY (Hello! This is Monday!!) YOU JUST HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT.” I’m still calmly in the background saying “I’m confused why you are talking to me this way. I’m not being rude to you at all. I simply told you that I’ve been waiting for over an hour….” CLICK

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….Someone PLEASE explain to me what just happened.

The Over-zealous, scripture slinging, judgment passing, sin admonishing, don’t-want-to-lose-my-Christian-witness-so-I-better-walk-away, Boss HUNG UP ON ME.

Lemme just tell you…She done LOST her Christian witness today, buddy. DONE. LOST. IT. (She lost it a long time ago, but she’s just confused.) She’s also well on her way to losing her ever-loving mind, but hey, one issue at a time.

Either way, I go back to the temp agency (in tears) feeling ridiculous, to explain to the women the outcome of “talking to her calmly about the issues at hand”. I explain to them the issues I’ve had not just today, but all summer. This is where things get funny. The woman behind the desk literally removed sticky note from her desk drawer and picked up her pen as she said “I’m sorry, she said what?!”

I repeated my previous statement with the driest cynicism I could muster. “She told me that her business is failing because her workers have unconfessed  sin in their lives and that is why God isn’t blessing her business.” I followed up the sentence with an eye roll so dramatic that I caused an earth quake and a face I imagined looked something like this:


I wish you could have seen the look the lady’s face. Her exact words were “Oh my ‘Lantis” and she scribbled down what I had said. She kept saying “I am just blown away. I just don’t even have words. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

So, here I sit, jobless. Conflicted over being a quitter and literally feeling entirely justified.

All I know is this:

THE. WORST.JOB. EVER. ended today. And, In the words of The (ex) Boss—–AMEN.

Playing Catch Up

I’ve been meaning to sit down and write my thoughts and other various ridiculousness for a few days, but I’ve always had someone in my space. It’s not a bad thing by any means, I enjoy company–most of the time I crave companionship–but I find it’s a lot easier to be candid when I don’t have someone reading over my shoulder.

Last week The Boss had a conversation with me about admonishing another person’s sin and how it’s an act of love. I challenged her asking if it was really an act of love if we did it in such a way that was condemning, to which her response (in a mocking tone 2 octaves higher than her normal voice) was “people who say don’t judge me, only God can judge me… are really just people who are sinning and don’t want to be called out.” She proceeded to lecture me on the importance of judgment insisting that I realize that without properly judging others’ behavior we won’t know the difference between right and wrong. She is thoroughly exhausting. I spend most of the hours in her presence with my head down giving an occasional “Mmm, Yeah-Uh-huh, You don’t say, Wow” when she takes a breath between rants. I got lucky enough to only have one of these conversations last week, she was rather busy doing other things and I was incredibly thankful for my time alone with porcelain bears, vintage ice cream scoops and my contemporary Christian Pandora station. Can I get an AMEN?!

Also on Thursday(July 17th to be exact) I had the privilege of celebrating Roman’s 25th Birthday with him and his family. Lately I’ve been feeling particularly thankful for our relationship. A lot of things have happened in the short time that we’ve been together and we’ve grown as individuals and as a couple exponentially. He challenges my mind, he makes me laugh until I snort (EMBARASSING), he encourages my faith and he supports my endeavors. He is also that portal to “all things nerdy”, which has been an interesting journey. In honor of his 25th birthday and his love of nerdy things big and small, I threw him an intimate Lord of the Rings Party. I literally watched a lone, salty tear run down his cheek as he admired the décor. (Ok, this part is fictional, but in my mind I envisioned it happening just like that–one single tear, enough to show complete admiration and still keep his manhood.)

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Happy 25th Birthday, honey!!

Happy 25th Birthday, honey!!

Last week was also the annual Church of God Church Camp, aka Warsaw. I grew up there, I learned a lot there, I made lasting friendships there, and I’ve also avoided there like the black plague. This week did not let me down in the drama department: various gossip, affairs with pastor’s wives, and church politics that could make you vomit. However, in the 3 visits that I made, I heard 2 really great sermons, I visited with lifetime friends and I watched my baby sister be baptized. There really isn’t anything greater than my sisters and watching the youngest of us be baptized made me feel all sorts of wonderful things! 🙂

Those seem to be the highlights of last week, The Boss, Love’s Birthday and Church camp drama and excitement. Here’s hoping this week has just as many exciting adventures. 🙂


Satan’s Best Executed Plan

I’m convinced that periods are from Satan. I know that Eve is responsible for painful childbirth–thanks you inconsiderate hussy for not being able to avoid the serpent and his outlawed apple–but I am pretty certain that Satan was chilling on the front porch of his lair one particularly steamy evening, staring out at the burning lake of fire, smoke billowing angrily into the smoggy sky, just-a-chuckling to himself about the best plan he’s ever executed. Menstruation.

Welfare, Sin and “The Gays”…Oh my!

Yesterday was a down right bad day. I’d say my grumpy dial just got cranked all the way to 100 and I was like a speeding train of rage.

It took me awhile to process what EXACTLY about yesterday that upset me–The long drawn out conversation about how humas have perverted God’s law? Perhaps the conversation about Christians not attending church because they have “unconfessed” (which isn’t even a REAL WORD!) sin in their lives and they can’t bear to hear what God has to say to them through the sermon? Maybe it was the rant about “the Gays”? Or the rant about Welfare? Suppose it was the conversation about “It’s my duty as a sister in Christ to tell you when you’ve sinned and done wrong”?–any of the conversations that happened yesterday absolutely had the potential to shove me over the edge.

And of course, YOU can guess who the facilitator of these conversations was. That’s right, none other than the bible-toting, sin-slaying, high-horse-riding, ain’t-got-no-time-for-the-gays, welfare-is-of-the-devil-BOSS.

I will just walk you through the first 30 minutes of my day. The Boss comes in flustered as always, because her life is always so much worse than everyone else’s around her, gossiping about the other workers and how useless they are. “I mean Marti, what am I supposed to do?! I left them a list of things to complete, I come in today and the list is still sitting there and the back room is a mess.” At this particular point in the discussion I wanted to inform her that as a boss, perhaps showing up to work AN HOUR late isn’t the best example for her employees. This has happened to me on several occasions. I will be scheduled to work, I show up right on the dot, she’s always 10-15 minutes behind me. One particular day she was AN HOUR late. I legitimately sat and stared at the hoard surrounding me questioning my own sanity for ever accepting this job. Instead, I say nothing to her. It’s actually getting to the point now where I am having a difficult time keeping my facial expressions to myself. Facial expressions that BLATANTLY say “I legitimately think you are the most self-righteous, gossipy, backstabbing human on the planet”.

This isn’t a good thing. I better get these facial expressions under control before I literally kill her with my glares of disdain.

Anyway, this gossiping mess continued for about 15 minutes and then directly segued into her arthritis, her sleep apnea, her sugar issues, her aching head, her achiles heel, her bleeding ulcers, her inability to lift anything over 25lbs (but she does it anyway, because every worker she has is “lazy”), her weight gain, her exhaustion, this list continued with various back stories for the next 20 minutes.

THEN we went straight into the gays. I was selling items from an estate sale where a woman collected AIDS awareness memorabilia of one kind or another. There were several pins all adorned with various jewels, red leather with pretty felt edges, a red pen bought from Tiffany & Co., small sterling silver ribbons, a sterling silver band-aid with an adorable little heart…AND THEN (cue the ominous music) the Satan pin!! Boss lady immediately FLIPS and goes into a rant: “I REFUSE to sell something that represents the perversion of God’s promises. Humankind has literally taken God’s promises and PERVERTED them for our own sinful cravings.” As she’s speaking she is vigorously digging through a box for her evidence as if this is a court room and she has to present evidence to the jury. Ladies and gentleman of the jury, exhibit number one: THE GAY PIN.

She proceeds to explain to me that she does NOT support gay rights in anyway and us selling this pin would tarnish our name as a business. I didn’t tell her that what is really tarnishing her business is her inability to run her store with any sort of organizational stamina, or professional behavior.

As she continued to rant, I just looked down at the pile of all of the other junk laying on the desk. She continued to run at the mouth as she safely put the pin back into the box and left the building to run errands. I took this as a PERFECT opportunity to sneak over to the box with all of the other AIDS items and take a picture of the Gay Pin in all of it’s sinful glory. I felt like a double agent, slowly creeping out from behind my desk, tip-toeing over to the other side of the room to remove the box from where it sat gently placed out of sight. I lifted the lid on the cardboard box, I swiftly sifted through all of the pins in their plastic wrappers and finally, there, wedged between one bejeweled AIDS pin and the bottom of the box, was the Gay Pin in all of it’s sinful glory. My mission was complete. I quickly snapped a picture, so that I could accurately mock her later and after gently placing everything back in it’s place, returned to my chair.

For your entertainment, and mine as I reread these posts….Please enjoy “The Gay Pin”

Isn't this the most sinful thing you've ever seen?!

Isn’t this the most sinful thing you’ve ever seen?!



Wrestling With Compromise

Compromise is a tricky thing.

It’s seemingly something as simple as giving in half way, your significant other giving in half way and proceeding to meet dead center. However, when we are talking about compromise in regards to decorating a living space with WWE memorabilia, my compromise meter is down right busted.

Arguments commence and by the end of the discussion,  I may or may not have made a comment about being his mother. He may or may not have said that he doesn’t want to feel like he’s losing himself being in a relationship and feelings may or may not have been hurt. See, it’s about a lot more than a wrestling collection–various pictures of Stone Cold Steve Austin in all of his greasy, oily glory, The Shield looking equally has greasy but much more ominous because they dress in all black and there are three of them, WWE playing cards and action figures–it’s really about two people figuring out how to merge two lives. How to combine two separate sets interests, two minds, two bodies–into one single house.

The things that I find important, he may not. The things that he feels are important, may be perplexing to me. Life is an interesting game of give and take. Compromising and standing your ground. In this particular case is it worth it to me for my love to feel as if he is losing his identity because I am nervous about having a dinner party with the Undertaker as the kitchen table centerpiece?–No. I suppose it isn’t. However, don’t be surprised if I post pictures at a later date of a pink, purple and zebra printed living room. 😉


Delightfully Disjointed

Disjointed- 1. Having the joints or connections separated.
2. disconnected; incoherent

Disjointed probably describes my life as an overall generality; however, specifically my life has been rather disjointed the past few months. Take for example this week: On Saturday I woke up particularly distressed over my not-so-glamourous, part-time, minimum wage, jewelry selling job. After enduring over a month’s worth of criticism from a woman who is the size of a small Cessna plane, has the darkest tan you can manage with out ACTUALLY being black and wears so much gold jewelry you could melt her down at any time and get a gold bar–I decided that I had had enough.

Please realize, however, this not-so-glamourous glamour job is not the only part-time job I currently hold. (Excuse me. Held…since I quit that jewelry job and ran so hard I could have won a gold medal.) Oh no. I also spend approximately 18 hours a week in a room about the size of a cubical–with a geriatric chihuahua who happens to have male pattern baldness–surrounded by other people’s donated junk so that I can take pictures of it, measure it and pray that I get money from it on ebay. I’m sure you’re thinking, “This can’t be that horrible of a job…you make money to post things on the internet. You don’t have to deal with people, or nasty customers. You’re able to listen to your own music and sit down all day.”

Lemme jus stop you RIGHT there. I suppose I didn’t mention my overzealous, self-righteous, cross bearing, scripture quoting, bible toting, lemme hear an amen if there’s a christian in the house, boss, did I?

She is God’s gift to humanity as a whole and anything you can do, SHE can do better. Shoot, who is it that sings that song?–Don’t even worry about it, she can do it better.

I’d venture to say, my life is rather disjointed, but delightfully so.

So, there you have it. Delightfully Disjointed. I hope if you stumble on my little space in the internet, you find my stories insightful (or not, because some of them won’t be) and that you enjoy your stay while you’re here.