Begging Your Pardon

Daddy-o’s thought for the day for February 19th:

One who forgives an affront fosters friendship, but one who dwells on disputes will alienate a friend. Proverbs 17:9

From childhood I was taught to seek Jesus in everyone. The result is that I’m easy pickings for spare change requests. Earlier this week I was accosted at the grocery by a guy who wouldn’t shut it on his beg. This guy wouldn’t let up. He stood there blah blahing while I loaded the groceries from my cart to my car. I finally said, “That’s enough. I have $2 you are welcome to all of it.” I also gave him a banana. He walked off without even returning my cart as people usually do when I give them cash. That’s was definitely NOT Jesus nor even a friend.

Later I received a real-time communication that read, “Shouldn’t you be out raising chickens or saving the world or something?” I’m paraphrasing, but that’s the gist. The writer immediately slammed the virtual door upon making this quip, leaving me no chance to reply. Well, looky here. I haven’t blogged since Daisy died and it’s not because I’m in mourning (though that really SUCKED). I’ve been living my not so fabulous life.

The past week, this life has required two souls to execute it and so the Hubster has helped as my right handed man – Mr. Right in all the right ways. Today as I was buried under Girl Scout cookie boxes, the Hubster attended church services for me. He summarized the sermon for me in part:

[The sermonizer] preached about “sodomy” as “inhospitality” in sacred ancient texts, not ass sex. Jesus didn’t talk about sex, he talked about the poor and the sick.

Other than this being HI-larious, as are most things the Hubster says, I am reminded of the myriad ways I’ve been inhospitable this past week. On the other hand, a friend delivered the most thoughtful apology this weekend. An apology shouldn’t have been required had I been more heartfully hospitable. More indication that my friends are way more awesomer than I – except for Wampus. He’s a snark and I can’t wait for the chance to slam the virtual door after I cut him to the quick with my quick wit. If only I had one.

4 thoughts on “Begging Your Pardon

  1. Anonymous says:

    I am mailing you a care package, and I even included a pet rock for Jesse. I mailed him off on the orphan train that is USPS without a name, so let me know what his name is. Poor widdle rock.

    Thank you for blogging again. It is so much more fun to cyberstalk you when there are new posts, although it is totally unnecessary. I’d stalk you anyway. I always stalk the ones with Hawt friends.


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