Hit On or Get Hit

Guys, there are very few right ways to hit on women, but the list of wrong ways is never-ending. One very wrong way is to flirt with a woman who is a captive audience. That means anyone in any service industry–waitresses (of course), cashiers, hair stylists–anyone who is getting paid to be polite. Yet because we’re being paid to be polite, you assume that the method works and you continue. It is not only sleazy but also potentially hazardous. If a woman does finally snap from having borne too many unwanted advances with a smile in her face, it’s liable to be in a way that no male, no matter how masochistic, would enjoy.

Hitting on your cashier is bad enough. Hitting on your cashier whose wedding ring you’ve been ignoring for the last two years is worse. But it is an epic fail to hit on that same cashier whose wedding ring you’ve overlooked when she is six months pregnant. Not only because, despite the fact that most of the time she feels amazing for growing a new life, she feels like a legless cow, but also because those hormones we laugh at in sitcoms are real.

Things that never bothered her before a human started growing in her uterus are now triggers for homicidal rages. Perfectly mundane comments (heck, even compliments) can trigger an uncontrollable flood of tears. And to be hit on my some smarmy ne-er-do-well when I’m so bloated and hormonal I’m constantly see-sawing between whether or not I even want my husband to flirt with me makes me really wonder how valuable I am to my company and how much of my mind they would excuse me for expressing, both with words and thrown objects.

This public service announcement is brought to you by my morning cup of java. Have a nice day.

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Enforced Idleness vs. Laziness

I have a confession to make: I am an incredibly lazy person. If I don’t wake up and immediately get going on something, I probably won’t do anything productive all day. It’s something I’m working on, but progress goes slowly, if  at all.

Yesterday, like all Mondays, was my day off. I did some packing, some laundry, some freelancing, and a few other things. A little after noon, I had to stop. Now, by that time, I’d accomplished about all I’d normally accomplish on a day off. But yesterday, I had to stop because my back was hurting too badly to do anything else.

Rather than relishing the excuse to sit on the couch, nap, read, and crochet, I found myself incredibly annoyed. It makes no sense. I’d probably have stopped around then anyway, yet for some reason I get aggravated when I’m being lazy because I’m forced into it rather than because I chose it. Does that make sense?

Good. Explain it to me. Because I have about another 15 weeks of pregnancy that will only make me more of an invalid, and then a good few weeks of recovering once Baby Carden is here.

The Adjustment Bureau

Ever since I’ve seen the first previews for The Adjustment Bureau, I thought it looked like my kind of movie–like some awesome hodgepodge of Dark City meets Inception meets The Bourne Identity. I expected nothing to be as it seemed with thrilling confusion, intricate plot twists, and a cataclysmic ending.

What I got was something that reminded me much more of The Golden Compass. Don’t get me wrong–The Adjustment Bureau at least had a good story. But the primary vehicle of the story was a not-so-thinly veiled (ok, an utterly blatant) attack against God and the exaltation of people overcoming God’s manipulations.

In short, I was very disappointed.

The Wonder Drug

Listening to the radio this morning, I again heard someone make the analogy of Christ to something like a cure for cancer that we would want to share with everyone. But the comparison of Christ to the cure for what ails you is more obvious and less accurate than everyone seems to think.

As an expecting mother, I read lots of baby books, baby magazines, baby forums, baby websites… you get it. And there are a lot of debates about things that seem like obvious care to me, like vaccinations. There are a surprising amount of people against vaccinating their babies. That seems foolhardy to me. Sure, vaccinations may possibly have some side effects that we don’t know about. Do you know what has fatal side effects we do know about? Measles, mumps, rubella, diphtheria, hepatitis… You know, the things the vaccinations protect against.

Fast forward into the future, when Baby becomes a free-thinking adult like, say, my brother, who got Type 1 diabetes when he was in his 20s. Thanks to modern medicine, we know he needs insulin. But he tried for a long time to control it mostly with homeopathic remedies. No amount of logic or persuasion would work; he had to come to the point where he himself realized that he was not in control no matter how much muscle mass he tried to build, no matter how strictly he held to his vegetarian diet, no matter how much brewer’s yeast he ate. Those things were stopgap measures at best. But forcing him to rely solely in the insulin wouldn’t work–he had to realize it and willingly embrace it before the treatment would be effective.

Christ is the cure for what ails you. However, there are a lot of other things out there that look like cures, too. Cures that leave more in your control, cures that come in better packages, cures that are more “in” at the moment.

But it’s not as obvious as some people make it seem. Anyone who pretends it’s easy to put your faith in an invisible, infinite, omniscient, omnipotent God who understands us even though we can’t understand Him and is three Persons yet also somehow only one… anyone who thinks that’s easy and obvious clearly doesn’t remember his own transition from the cures he thought would save him before. Be patient, not superior. Offer the cure, but don’t pretend people’s questions are stupid or insignificant. Let them–and the Spirit working in them–come to the place where they embrace it.