I have zero opinion when it comes to gay marriage. Yes, you read that correctly. I do not care one way or the other. Go ahead and begin judging me. I don’t care. If people want to be gay or lesbian and be married, what business of it is mine? Why in the world would I speak out about it? Do people speak out about my marriage? No, probably not.
The issue is that I’m a Christian and everyone expects me to have an opinion. Oh, believe me, I have opinions coming out of my ears. Unfortunately, I do not have an opinion about gay marriage. You want to debate abortion, I’m your girl. I have a million opinions on the sanctity of life. But not gay marriage. It’s ok. Judge me.
The only I can say about the gay or lesbian lifestyles is that God is against it. He doesn’t condone it. He states marriage is with a man and a woman. If you choose to live differently than that, then that’s all on you. I certainly don’t love you any less. And the most important thing, God doesn’t either. God and I love you the same.
Now, if everyone would be so forgiving and tolerant with my sins. I have done some horrible things in my life. Things that would embarrass most of you, but that I have kept hidden and between me and God. Are my sins any better than someone being gay or lesbian? I would think not. Sin is sin, even if it’s legal. God died for my sins. My white lies, my deceit, my impure thoughts, etc. In the same way, God died for your sin. Yet even in the same way, God died for gays and lesbians. He died for those who murder, those who steal, those who gossip, anyone who sins, God died for them.
Whether your sin is legal, not legal or whether your sin is public or private – we are all sinners saved by grace and I love you the same!
My whole life I’ve been identified as Generation X. My generation is also known as the 13th Generation or Baby Busters as we are typically the children of the Baby Boomers. My parents were of the Silent Generation or also known as the Lucky Few. Most people who fought in the Vietnam or Korean War were from my parents generation. I am raising my son in Generation Z, also known as the Internet Generation or as I call it, Generation Idiot.
If you are familiar with Generation Idiot you know that this generation has no concept of time management, believe they should be recognized for simply participating instead of their achievements and have a false sense of entitlement. They seem to have the idea that they need to be entertained constantly. They can take school in a class room, online or at home. They spend more time on their phone than they do talking to someone face to face. Even their friends who are sitting right next to them!! As I have been trying to raise my son in this generation, I have been trying to instill in him the value of time, the value of keeping score and winning and losing correctly I am literally blown away by how frustrated I get with this general attitude of his generation. I want to strangle him and make him realize how lucky and blessed he is to have so many opportunities.
While I’m doing everything I can to, as Barney Fife would say, “nip it in the bud”, I can only do so much. Generation Idiot has no idea how to do math in their head, write a letter, address an envelope, or look at an atlas. Who needs to memorize where to drive when they can just pull up Google Maps every dang time on their phone? Who needs to learn how to tell time on a clock when they just need to unlock their phone? Who needs to learn how to calculate a tip in your head when there’s an app for that?
This weekend we spent a day at my friend Lynn’s pool. Lynn has a house on Keystone Lake and her view from her pool is pretty amazing. I didn’t even know what an infinity pool was until I swam in one at Lynn’s house. We made sure to invite the girlfriend to come along so the kiddo had someone his own age to talk too and hang out with. They swam and looked to be having a pretty good time. About an hour there, the kiddo decides to text me and say, ‘hey we are bored. what can we do?’ This, of course, appalls me. When I was 16…to be able to take Jason and go to a pool for the day was a GREAT day. I didn’t waste time being bored or wondering what else there was to do. We would have enjoyed ourselves. A little later I told him that he was at a house with a pool and that he and the girlfriend in no way were bored. In what world is spending time outside with a beautiful pool, a great view, free food and your girlfriend BORING?
God grant me the patience to raise this Generation Idiot child!
I learned a long time ago that no matter what kind of a parent I am, my son will always remember the part of me I don’t want him too. I’ve accepted the fact that every parent scars their child and most of us should have had counseling when we turned adults. I could be the perfect Christian mom and some how, some way my good intentions will end up out the window. These are things I’ve accepted. I deserve the Mother of the Year award – every year – with these types of recognition of my shortcomings. Yet this last week of my son’s sophomore year I realize just how much like me my son is and wish I had someone else to blame…
Now before I am judged and stoned, let me explain. I am not and never will be a morning person. This is a trait my Mama passed on to my son. I’m not going to draw you a family tree but suffice it to say my adopted son is JUST like me through traits that were passed down through the family line. Weird things, like having to have your hands clean at all times or needing the last word of an argument, but I digress. My son has inherited this trait as well. He is not a morning person. Oh he’s learned to get up on time and function like a normal person (we live with the world’s biggest morning person so we have had to adapt) but neither of us are chatty, lovey dovey or particularly pleasant in the morning. So when this particular incident happened, it both scared me and made me laugh all at the same time!
He was, as is the normal now, critiquing my driving skills and made a goof ball joke that cracked me up. He was also eating a muffin as we were on our way to school. I reached up to pat his shoulder because it really was a funny joke (don’t tell him this, but he’s the funniest person I know) and you would have thought my hand was a hot branding iron. “Don’t touch me in the mornings!” he all but screamed. Luckily I was at a stop sign so I looked over at him…thinking what the heck just happened…I mean that’s how I feel before I am awake, but I’ve never said it quite like that before. He quickly backtracked because he knew he had been rude. “I’m sorry can you please not touch me when I’m eating?” I quickly said, “no problemo kiddo” and he turned the whole thing into yet another joke by saying, “I’m like a dog, don’t mess with me when I’m eating” to which I laughed at but deep down I was freaking out because I know he’s more like me than he will ever want to admit.
Unless I seek you out (and it has to be a good 10:30-11 before my brain is fully functional), don’t be touching me! Under any circumstances. I don’t want to cuddle. I don’t want a hug. I don’t want to hold your hand. I am angry that my sleep has been interrupted. I’m not mad at you, but at the world. My poor hubby…he’s learned over the years and now if he has to wake me up does so by touching my leg through the covers because I’ve been so grumpy to him about it. When I have to go wake the son up, I try and do the same thing…leg, through the covers, and it tends to be better than trying to touch his shoulder. I don’t know why we are like this…we just are…and I would love to ask my Mama, God rest her soul, if she was the same way.
What a legacy I get to leave my soon to be junior…Just. Don’t. Freaking. Touch. Me. In. The. Mornings!
Yep, sign me up for Mother of the Year!