Uncommon

I work in retail, at a home improvement store.  This time of year, actually starting in March and going through the end of July, it’s very hectic.  Everyone comes in for their flowers, new grills, outdoor projects, painting projects, and remodeling projects.  They also come in to return dead flowers, grills that didn’t fit their space, leftover items from outdoor and remodeling projects… it gets crazy.

What is also crazy, and very taxing on the employees of the store, is the way many of the customers treat those who work there.  It is very commonplace for a customer to be rude, disrespectful and downright nasty.  When a store gets busy it can take time to get help, or get through the checkout line.  It may take time for an employee to get a vanity down from a top shelf because you need a forklift for that and you have to block off the aisle for the safety of customers and employees and you need a spotter so there is someone else you need to find and you may have to wait for them to get done with a customer… it can be very involved.  Tempers flare, mouths open and rudeness spills out.

What is also common is hot, tired, and stressed employees who are doing their best to work through situations like the one described above.  Unfortunately that means that sometimes they aren’t as polite as maybe they should be, to customers or each other.

The knee-jerk reaction in situations under which we have little or no control tends toward the negative.  Frustration, irritation, impatience, anger, sarcasm and rudeness.  It happens to all of us, customers and employees alike.  When it happens we lash out at the person in closest proximity to us, regardless of whether they had anything to do with the situation at hand or not.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could embrace the uncommon?  

The word “uncommon”, as defined by Merriam-Webster is: 1) not ordinarily encountered; unusual.  2) remarkable, exceptional

Let us be uncommonly respectful – and realize we are all on this planet together.  Just because someone isn’t moving as fast as we would like it doesn’t give us the right to be rude.

Let us be uncommonly kind – and go outside the box to help someone, go the extra step even if it may put us a few minutes behind our carefully planned out schedule for the day.

Let us be uncommonly understanding – of situations we find ourselves in and put ourselves in the other person’s shoes.  Maybe they’ve been working for eight hours already that day and haven’t had a break or eaten anything since before they came in.

Let us be uncommonly forgiving – when we have to wait longer than anticipated, or when something is wrong on our order.  Everyone makes mistakes.

Let us be uncommonly generous – in showing grace to others who have made those mistakes.  You will inevitably find yourself on the other side of that coin and wish for the same grace to be shown to you.

And finally, let us show uncommon love.  Love others for who they are; flawed human beings, because we ALL fit that description.  Not one of us is above anyone else, not one of us is without blemish, not one of us is perfect.

Regardless of where you work, where you live, who you are –

Be UNCOMMON

 

This post was inspired by the book Uncommon: Living a Life of Purpose and Pursuit by Carey Scott. You can learn more about the book and order at http://careyscott.org/uncommon/.

 

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So much to do, so little time

We’re at just under three weeks and my Samantha will be in boot camp.

She did more work in her room last night; found more trash, more things to give away.  She filled her saddle bag and black duffel with who knows what and asked me to do some laundry for her.  I haven’t seen her room look this clean in ages!  I’m glad she took my advice to get it cleared up now instead of later.

The night before last she was hungry but didn’t want to have to actually cook anything for herself so I made her a PBJ sandwich.  We sat up talking until 10:30pm, well, talking and laughing and a little crying.  I haven’t seen much of her lately so I am treasuring every moment.

I didn’t hear her leave for school this morning. I ALWAYS hear her leave so I must have been really tired, or that one beer really knocked me out!  I will have to get used to that, (no, not one beer knocking me out) not hearing her leave for school or come home from a night out with friends.  That will be so strange.

There is a gathering tonight for recruit parents.  I’ll be meeting the parents of the girl Sam is buddying up with for boot camp.  That will be nice.  We’ll all be able to keep in touch and help support each other over the summer.  I get teary-eyed just thinking about all of it.

Sam promised to finish my paintings as a Mother’s Day gift for me.  I want to see them hanging above my couch in the living room before she leaves.  I really hope she gets them done and I’m trying not to push too much but if she doesn’t do them now it won’t get done at all.  She won’t want to spend her leave painting and I wouldn’t want her to.

So many little things as time ticks away, important things, final things….

More tears…

30 Days and Counting

I know I’ve posted about this a couple of times but the day is actually almost here!!  The BIG day!  Actually, two big days – high school graduation and the start of boot camp.

The first day of senior year for my last kiddo seems so far away, and yet like it was yesterday.  I didn’t even know about her desire to join the military back then and now, here we are, just thirty days away from both of our lives moving to that next level, that new adventure, changing forever.

Each week crosses off another item on the to-do lists:

  • She has gone through her room and now has a pile of stuff to give away, clothes and other things she has collected over the years.
  • She has attended her last prom.
  • She only has eleven days of school to go.
  • She graduates from high school in three weeks .
  • She leaves for boot camp in four weeks and two days.

What was years, then months, is now just weeks!  Before we know it there will be only days left.  Between now and the end of May we have a couple of meetings at the recruiting office, a big party celebrating her graduation and pending future endeavor and, hopefully, just some time to relax with each other.  Okay, who am I kidding, that isn’t likely to happen.  She isn’t through with her job for over a week yet, will have friends to go hang out with, siblings to laugh with and then she’ll be gone.

All of this occupies my mind on a daily basis and I find myself tearing up regularly, can’t even blame it on menopause.  Thirteen years and seven months of being a single parent, and it’s over in thirty days.

Wow

 

Texas, Overdrafts and Silver Linings

Last year for Mother’s Day my church gave me a wonderful gift of a two day trip to Dallas.  It included air fare, two nights at a four star hotel and a $120 gift card to use at the hotel for incidentals, great right?!  I was finally able to use that gift this past week.  Yes, it took awhile but it was so nice and relaxing, except for one little glitch…

I had flown into Dallas Tuesday evening, met up with friends and had a great dinner, then finally checked into the hotel after 10:00pm.  The next morning (after 10am when I finally woke up) I ordered room service and hunkered down in the bed to watch a couple of movies.  After my intentional period of laziness I went out for a walk around the downtown area.  The sky was overcast so it wasn’t too hot, the humidity was tolerable and the parks and trees beautiful and green.  After about an hour of wandering around I went back to the hotel and decided to have dinner in one of the restaurants there.  The food was delicious, my server – T.Payne, who said she was called that because she was a pain in the butt – was delightful and the Craft Manhattan I ordered from the bar was very relaxing!  (Good thing I had come from a higher altitude or I would have been more than relaxed #lightweight).  I went back to my room, watched another movie and finally went to sleep around midnight after drinking my glass of wine I’d ordered from room service. (Side note: room service charged a $3 delivery fee with every order, like they were coming from across town or something, so weird)

Thursday morning I was awake a bit earlier, 9:00am, and made myself a cup of coffee while calling my bank’s automated system just to check my balance.  I knew I was going to go past the amount of the gift card for incidentals and wanted to know exactly how much money I had available.

To my surprise, my account was overdrawn by more than $800.00.  I quickly went to the bank website and discovered that the hotel had charged the room and tax to my card instead of the one my pastor had given at the time he made the reservation.  I immediately called the front desk to inform them of the error so they could correct it.  It was not, however, something they said they could correct.  I was told that the hotel had not received the authorization form to actually charge the card that was used to hold the room reservation so policy states they charge the one that is given at the time of check-in.  I made a call to my pastor, who stated he had never received such a form.  Well, this was going to be interesting.

At 10:30am I was down at the front desk to talk to someone in person regarding the mess.  When I told the woman at the desk that I was going to call my pastor so he could give his card over the phone she stated they did not take credit card numbers over the phone.  When I asked if he could authorize the use of the card he had already given she said they did not accept same day authorizations.  I asked her if an email would have gone out telling my pastor to go to the online form and she said no but it was on the website.  I told her he had made the reservation over the phone, and not through the website, so obviously the person with whom he made the reservation had not told him about the form.  That being the case, how would he have known he had to submit said form and could they not make an exception based on that information.  She said no.

I was on the phone with my pastor faster than you could spit and handed my phone over to the desk clerk once I had explained the situation to him.  Now, I could not hear what my pastor was saying, but I could tell by the clerk’s face that he was being very, well, blunt about what was going on.  She asked me if she could take my phone in the back to talk with the manager and I agreed.  After about five minutes or so she came back and said they were going to have my pastor resubmit his card and try running it for us and then she went to the back again.

I waited, patiently.

She came back out and said the card did not go through because it was the same day, blah blah blah.  I told her that putting those charges on my card had overdrawn my account and that the charge would probably be rejected by my bank.  She said “We’ve already put the charges through and it looks like it will be fine.”  Well, NO, it WON’T be fine because my account is overdrawn and I’m wracking up overdraft fees to the tune of $36 each.  She stated there was nothing more she could do.

Fine, wonderful.  I called my pastor again.  He said I should call my bank and dispute the charges.  I needed to get out of the hotel for awhile.  My flight didn’t leave until 6:30pm so I had quite a bit of time to spare.  I checked my bag and headed out, stopping at a nearby McDonalds for breakfast (using what cash I had) because I hadn’t eaten yet.  Since the hotel charges were still in pending status I technically had some money to use, which was a good thing because I needed money to pay the Lyft driver I’d scheduled to take me to the airport and enough to get a little something to eat later.  I called my bank after eating breakfast and spoke to a very sympathetic agent who stated she would be happy to put in a dispute for the charges and guaranteed me that any overdraft fees related to those charges would be reimbursed.  I told her ALL of the overdraft fees would be because of those charges and she reassured me it would be taken care of hopefully within a few days.

After about an hour of strolling through Dallas I went back to the hotel, the humidity starting to take a toll on my breathing as I’m used to much thinner air.  I sat at a table near an outlet so I could charge my phone and just read a book for awhile.  My driver came, we made it safely to the airport, I bought a burrito for an early dinner, caught my flight back to Denver and met my daughter at the airport for the ride home.  All I could do now was wait to see how long it would take for the hotel issue to be resolved.

When I had been speaking with my pastor earlier that day he had asked, room charge issue aside, if I had enjoyed my trip.  I could honestly say yes.  In the midst of all of that mess I decided I was not going to let that one negative thing effect the way I viewed the whole two days.

I think we all have a tendency to do that every once in awhile; look at one negative thing that has happened and allow it to color the entire experience.  We have to make a deliberate choice not to dwell on what we don’t like but instead on what we do like.  Find the silver lining, if you will.  Sometimes it takes effort but if you make it a daily/weekly practice you will find it becomes easier and easier to do until you don’t even have to think about it, your mind just automatically sees the bright side of situations.

I’m happy to report that my bank did indeed reverse the hotel charges and reimburse all $108.00 of overdraft fees.  It didn’t take as long as expected either, which is also nice.

See, silver lining

Blast From The Past

The weirdest thing happened the other day; I ran into my old college boyfriend at work.  It was one of those slightly awkward moments, you know?  I knew who he was and I almost didn’t say anything but as he was checking out I just couldn’t resist.

“Is your name Shane, by chance?” I asked.

“Yes…?” he said, a bit confused.

“Shane (last name withheld to protect the innocent, lol)?”

“Yes, and you are…”, he glanced down at my name tag, “Melanie!”

I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t recognize me.  I have a different hair color (I was still blonde when we dated) and a bit more weight than when we last saw each other 30 years ago.  He, on the other hand, aside from some grey hair and glasses, looked the same. (Maybe shorter than I remember…)

We chatted briefly, he asked how I was doing, I asked if he was still playing his music.  Then we both said “It was nice to see you” and that was it.  I walked away and he left the store.

I have often wondered, through the years, how he was doing, if life had treated him well.  Ours was a short but intense relationship which had effected me deeply.  You see, he was my first boyfriend – I hadn’t dated in high school – and my first love.  When we broke up after four months I was devastated.

I thought I’d be nervous if I ever saw him again.  He was a pretty straight-laced Christian at the time and I sort of led him down the path of, well, being a bit less straight-laced shall we say.  As it turned out, I wasn’t nervous at all.  It was just a quick, friendly meeting.

When I think about it, I realize I didn’t have another boyfriend after him until I met the man who was to be my husband.  I dated, but never had a serious relationship with anyone else.  It’s interesting that I never put that together before now.  I’ve not had once since my divorce either, nor have I dated.

Is God trying to tell me something, is there something I’m supposed to get out of this encounter from my past, or is it just long overdue closure?  I never felt like I needed more closure, but it was nice to say “Hi” one more time.  I don’t know, maybe it was just one of those chance encounters.  Maybe it was to make me realize I’m really happy where I am in life right now, no significant other is necessary.  Who knows (well yes, I know who knows, it’s just an expression).

And I really AM happy!  I’m doing more writing, hanging out with friends, talking to people daily at work, getting out of the house instead of being a hermit. I have two months left with my youngest daughter and then I’ll be an empty nester.  When I think about signing up on a dating site again, or having a boyfriend, I realize I don’t really want one right now.  I like being able to go where I want, when I want, do what I want at any time of day, eat whatever I want and not have to ask anyone if there are other plans that might interfere.  You may think it’s selfish but I prefer to see it as liberation!

Now, none of this means I won’t miss my daughter – I missed my other two children when they left, and yes it will be an adjustment.  However,  this is a transition I’ve been working toward for almost twenty four years, over thirteen of those as a single parent.

So, while it was nice to see my old flame, I also realize how far I’ve come since my college days and how much I’m going to enjoy this next phase of my life!

Anyway, that’s all… time to go do, oh I don’t know… ANYTHING I WANT!!

Grandpa

I smelled my grandfather yesterday.  Not just once but twice.  It was… unexpected.

I don’t think about him that often, it’s been almost thirty years since he died.  When I go home I see pictures of him at my mother’s apartment, sitting with my grandmother, their children standing behind them, but he doesn’t come to mind regularly.

The first time I smelled him was at work.  An older gentleman walked up to the return counter and I was hit by the aroma of my grandfather’s pipe tobacco.  That’s how I remember him, sitting in his chair in the corner of the living room by the “davenport”, which is what they called the sofa, with his ashtray on its stand right next to the chair.  I smiled at the memory, helped the gentleman with his return, and went on with my day.

The second time was at a gas station.  I was getting back into my car after filling it up and there was that smell again.  I looked around and, other than a pickup truck that was pulling away, I didn’t see where the aroma could have come from.

It was that second time that really hit me.  After all these years I actually teared up on the drive home thinking about him.  I loved my grandpa, even though we never really talked much.  He wasn’t a very demonstrative kind of man, wasn’t big on the whole hugging, lovey kind of stuff, but I always loved how he smelled.  That is until he started smoking cigars.  I much preferred the pipe.

I would have liked to have known him better but he passed away when I was in my early twenties and I’d already moved out to Colorado.  I didn’t get home much back then, but I was able to get back to see him just before he died.  He was lying in a hospital bed and we all knew he wasn’t going to be with us much longer.  I remember bending down to give him a kiss on the cheek and him saying that he loved me.

I much prefer thinking about him in his big chair in the living room, not dying in a hospital bed.

Why I was reminded of him now I don’t know, but I’m almost tempted to go find that pipe tobacco just so I can smell it.  A memory long since buried brought to life again with such a simple thing.  Funny how that works.

 

Perspective on Frosting

My family has a traditional dessert which we serve at pretty much all our kid’s birthdays.  It’s called crazy cake.  It’s moist, it’s chocolatey, it’s delicious.

We make it from scratch, the frosting too.  Now, while I consider myself a good cook and baker, for some reason I can’t get the hang of the frosting.  You have to cook it to soft ball stage, then once you take it off the heat beat it until it’s the right consistency.  I never seem to be able to get it right.  I either don’t cook it long enough, or I cook it too long, or I beat it too long, or not long enough… I just can’t figure it out.

Any time I make this cake/frosting combo I find myself apologizing for the frosting that, to me, is sub-standard.  I mean, it tastes good, but if it’s not smooth and creamy like frosting should be I get irritated with myself.  I put myself down because, after all these years of making this dessert, I feel like I fail when it comes to the frosting.

No one ever says to me “That frosting is horrible!”.  I never find plates with the cake eaten and the frosting abandoned, no one ever asks me NOT to make the frosting.  This is all just me, isn’t that silly?

I made the recipe a few days ago, making cupcakes instead of cake, and of course the frosting wasn’t right.  It was more like fudge, which is how it turns out more often than not.  I took a few to a friend for his birthday and he loved them, didn’t say a thing about the hard frosting.  Last night my youngest daughter saw the cupcakes, the frosting that had started to harden before I got it spread just kind of plopped on top, and once again I started complaining about the fact that I am not a frosting wizard.

You know what she said?

“I love it this way, it’s like getting two treats in one!”

That, to me, was the best compliment I could have received about that darn frosting.  What a wonderful way to look at it!  It’s not a failure, it’s even better because it’s cake AND fudge!  Gosh, I love her.

So I sit here tonight, looking at the cupcake I’m about to eat, and I no longer see a great cake with so-so frosting but a fantastic combination of sweet tastes and textures.

Sometimes, it’s just a matter of changing your perspective…

 

 

Arrows

It hit me tonight, (as I was talking to my 17yr old at 10:45pm about the 10:00pm curfew we’d agreed upon for school nights) that by the time said 17yr old child graduates from high school in May of 2017, I’ll have been a single parent for thirteen years and seven months.

Over 13 years – that just boggles my mind – and in nine months it will all be over, give or take…

Now, as any parent knows, you don’t STOP being a parent just because your kids grow up. The relationship just moves to a different level.  I already have two children who are out on their own, one of them is married.  My last is hoping to be in the military in a year.  All children eventually walk their own path.  I’m reminded of a poem by Kahlil Gibran that I read for an acting workshop I attended while my kids were still young.

On Children

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you.
And though they are with you, they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
Which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite.
And He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hands be for happiness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
So He loves the bow that is stable.

I remember barely being able to get through the reading I was so choked up.  “You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth”  So very poignant, and heart wrenching, and inspiring.  I pray I’ve been a stable bow, that I’ve done the best I could do.  There’s much I regret not being able to do for them, but the one thing I always tried to do was show them plenty of love and support for where they saw their lives heading.

I have not been a “perfect” parent, not sure there is such a thing.  There were plenty of times when I lost my temper, especially at the beginning of my single parent journey.   There were also plenty of times when I asked for forgiveness and gave it, asked for a hug and got it.  Forts were made in the living room, chocolate cake was eaten for birthday breakfasts.  Kids did their chores (or not…), we watched movies, went out to eat when the budget allowed and did our best to live together in happiness.  Discipline was meted out when necessary, from spankings to groundings to sitting in the middle of the living room with knees touching saying nice things about the other sibling (the last one seemed the most painful for them).

Did my children learn anything from me?  I would hope they learned that none of us is perfect but with compassion and love, happiness can exist wherever you are, whatever you’re doing.

In the end, after all is said and done, we turn the last page of our children’s books and watch with expectation at where God leads them.  We keep praying for them, we may even hear from them every once in awhile.  We have done our part.

“And though they are with you, they belong not to you”

This was not the post I was expecting to write tonight, but it’s what came out.  Some other time I’ll write more about the single parent thing.  For now, though, I’ll sit with the realization that a very big chapter in my life is nearing its end, and while I watch with hope as my youngest prepares to start her journey into a new life, I also look with anticipation at my OWN life, and the new possibilities God has in store for me as well.

And life goes on…

You Matter

I’m trying one of those dating websites… again

Having tried this before, most recently last year, I realize that it seems silly to do it yet again.  What’s the definition of insanity “doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result”.  Well, I’m not doing the same thing this time, not really. I mean, yes, I signed up on the site but this time I’m not going to delete my profile the minute one man shows he’s a jerk, or another only wants a booty call.  Plus my mother said I should try again, lol.

I’m also in a different frame of mind now.  I am not doing it because I feel a I need a man to be whole, to feel wanted or loved.  I’m doing it because I’d really like to have a man in my life, I’d like to be married again, but not in the sense of, in the words of Jerry McGuire “You complete me”.  I’m already complete, I’d just like some icing for my cake.

I’ve already met with one man.  He was very nice, we had a good chat and some wine but that was all, no connection, and that’s perfectly fine.  Just the fact that he showed up was a step above the last guy I’d spoken with from a dating site.

I’m chatting to a couple other gentlemen right now, through the site only, and it’s just nice.  I’ve also turned down a few men, politely telling them that I didn’t feel we’d make a match but good luck to them, that sort of thing, as one man did with me as well.  It’s the polite thing to do, wouldn’t you say?  One man didn’t agree…

On my profile I’d stated that I’d like to be married.  It’s a question everyone has to answer and you can say you just want friendship, just dating, long-term etc.  I opened the app last night and a man had sent me a message.  All he said was “I’d marry you”.  Yes, a bit corny since all he knew about me was what was on my profile.  I went to his profile, read through things, looked at his pictures (no, that’s not shallow, there has to be a physical attraction) and decided I’d tell him I was not interested.

His reply was “I guess I’ll have to spend my millions on someone else.  You think you’re that much of a catch?? YAWN!”

You know, the first thing that popped into my head (after “what an ass”) was that I didn’t reply to him thinking I was a catch….

Wait, WHAT??

The HELL I’m not!

I AM a great catch, thank you very much!  I’m intelligent, I treat people with respect, I have a good sense of humor, a strong faith, am loving and loyal to my family and friends.  I have a lot to offer and expect the same.  So, I wrote him back…

“I am a great catch for the right man, just like you will be a catch for the right woman.  I thought I would at least respond to your message but maybe I should have ignored you completely.  Have a nice life.”

Yes, there is a bit of snark there but hey, he had no right to judge me just by one picture and a short paragraph in my profile. Justifiable snark, in my book.

How often do we do that though, judge someone superficially.  I’ll bet we do it more than we’d like to admit, I’m sure I do even though I try not to be a judgmental person.  Words can be so hurtful, if we let them. Especially if we are not rooted in the belief that God put us here for a reason.  WE matter to HIM or we wouldn’t be here, and that’s what really counts.

So, I’ll stay on the site, meet up with a few more gentlemen for coffee or drinks.  Maybe I’ll meet that special someone and fall in love, maybe I won’t.  All I know for sure is I DO MATTER, to the One who matters most.  HE knows I’m a catch, and so are you.

Infinite Life

About a month ago I jumped onto the Candy Crush bandwagon…

Some of you may be thinking “What took you so long”, others are possibly thinking “I would NEVER play that game just because so many people do, I don’t want to be a joiner”.  Well, I used to think the later but then decided to see what all the fuss was about.  I totally believe all the hype now, it is definitely addictive!

This past Saturday I was sitting on my couch playing a few levels.  If you are not familiar with the game, you have a limited number of lives with which to match up similar candies so they “crush” each other and you can even create other candies depending on how many of them you match up.  Some of the levels have you clearing “jelly” which appears as a clear bubble around the candies, others have you collecting fruit, etc.   As you progress in the game you get to levels where you can collect special wrapped candies.  Once you’ve collected enough of them you win prizes, one of which is “Infinite Life”.

Now, this infinite life isn’t actually infinite, you only get it for a few hours.  I found myself at such a point on Saturday and I took full advantage, playing each level over and over again until I was successful at whatever task was required and then moved to the next one, you get the picture.  I finally got to the end of the levels in that particular set and was informed I’d have to wait 72hrs before moving to the next group.  I could move up faster if I paid a fee but I was not going to do that, I’d just be patient and wait.

When I glanced up at the clock I realized I’d been playing for two and a half hours.  2 1/2 hours!!  As I came out of my sugar crush stupor, the day started to come back into focus.  I heard children laughing outside, dogs barking in the dog run as they played with their owners, a slight breeze coming in my open balcony door.  I also felt the soreness of my backside from sitting so long in one position and my fingers were a bit stiff from holding my phone.

I was missing a beautiful day for a chance to have infinite life … in a game.

I couldn’t help but compare the eternal life we get through Jesus Christ with this episode of abandon.  How different it is!  The game, and this applies to any number of video games, can captivate us in the worst way – stealing time if we let it.  We miss out on life, the joys around us.

As for infinite life, in the game it’s a sham but the enemy can use that desire in us to “move up” or “win” and we become enthralled.  With eternal life through Christ, we don’t have to win anything or collect good deeds in order to have everlasting life through Christ, we just have to believe, have faith, and accept Him as our savior.  He already paid the price, and the life HE offers is NOT limited to just a few hours.  We won’t miss out on the beauty around us when we go home, we’ll be a part of it!

I’m not saying video games are an instrument of the devil, but just like anything else, he can use them and make us become obsessed by them.  I still enjoy Candy Crush, but I limit my playing time, I watch the clock and when my time is up I stop.  Don’t let the enemy use a fun distraction to rob you of more important things.  Keep to a time limit so you can enjoy all the other joys this life has for you.

Later today I think I’ll see if I can reach level 54…