I realize it's taboo to admit I'm not currently involved in a local church, much less confess I love it. However, it's the truth. Here are some reasons why:
I really enjoy having a whole weekend with family and friends. It's taken awhile, but I now understand why so many busy people at churches I pastored were too tired to make it to the 50 million meetings and 10 billion things that were expected of them.
I've invested the whole of my adult life in the local church, and have felt for years that there must be a better way to love God and people.
The most prominent model of "church" has been an obstacle--a time, emotional and physical energy consuming obstacle--to focusing on the things that matter most in life.
I'm burnt out from my years in the local church. Utterly. Completely. Burnt out.
I could go on, though I'm not sure of the point. I love Jesus deeply. I love the big 'C' "Church"--God's people everywhere. I just don't want to spend time with the latter on Sunday morning unless it has more meaning for all involved than it has up to this stage.
I'll get to talking about a church I can love, but for now:
I shared recently about the downs and ups I've experienced over the last couple of years, including a divorce. It's still tough to even type that: divorce. If I didn't have the joy of being happily remarried, I probably wouldn't have the strength to talk about it openly. Thank God--literally--for fresh starts, forgiveness, and grace.
One of the things I mentioned in my previous post is this:
I lost a lot of friends. Just about all of them actually. People who I stayed up with long hours into the night talking about their problems; people who leaned heavily on me through their burdens; people who I thought were going to be part of my life for years to come--so many of them scattered into the wind with the loss of the church, and many more with the divorce.
Yet there was something I left out in regard to losing (which is another way to say "being abandoned by") so many old friends, and that is this: As some of those same people have heard that my life has turned around positively, they've got back in touch with me.
Just about everytime this happens, I have reactions like this:
It's interesting to hear from so and so, but where were they during the times I felt overwhelmed?
I'm glad to know such and such is doing well, but I've learned to live my life without them.
How convenient to get back in touch with me now after the storm, but I don't need fair-weather friends.
Who do you think you are? Your not my friend anymore.
As someone who has experienced so much grace, love, and forgiveness from God, I also think to myself: Who are you to receive God's forgiveness, but not give it to others. Yet at the same time, at the ripe age of 35, I already feel too old to play these kinds of games. I want relationships that are reciprocal; I want people that will receive my love and give theirs back; I want people who will be next to me on sunny days and stormy ones.
What do you think?
Am I being a whiny jerk?
Is my reaction understandable but wrong?
Am I being wise not to invest myself in fair-weather friends?
My wife got an email recently that was supposed to be from Wells Fargo bank, but it wasn't. It looked just like the Wells Fargo site, but Wells Fargo had nothing to do with it. It was a phishing email: a fraudulent email intended to trick individuals into giving sensitive information away. In this case, login and password information from Wells Fargo customers.
There were two main ways we could tell this was a phishing email:
First, banks don't send emails asking people for their username and password. They already have them.
Second, the link pointed to a domain name that wasn't Wells Fargo's--even though part of it was correct.
So we called the company where the website was hosted, but their recorded voice repeatedly told us their call volume was too high to take our call. We then forwarded the email to Wells Fargo's phishing department. A day later, and probably others letting Wells Fargo know about the email, and the website was down.
I get multiple emails like this per week, and I rarely do anything about most of them. Life is too busy, and its hard to think it makes much difference in the greater scheme of things--except when you see something done about it.
I'm sure you get these emails regularly too. Let me know:
How often do you get emails like this?
How can you tell what is a phishing email, and what is not?
I'm trying to figure out (again) what can be recycled and what can't. I think recycling is one of the easiest ways to care for the environment. However, I find it confusing to know what can be recycled and what can't. If my memory was better, maybe I would have it all worked out by now.
Today I spent a little bit more time trying to figure out what can go in our recycling and what needs to go in the trash. I still feel like I have a lot to learn. Part of the difficulty for me is that what can be recycled and what can't seem contrary to "commonsense".
Take empty aerosal cans. Who would think these could be recycled? Not me. Yet they're fine to be recycled. Or take plastic materials: Plastic bottles and jars can be recycled. But plastic grocery bags cannot.
My wife got an email recently that was supposed to be from Wells Fargo bank, but it wasn't. It looked just like the Wells Fargo site, but Wells Fargo had nothing to do with it. It was a phishing email: a fraudulent email intended to trick individuals into giving sensitive information away. In this case, login and password information from Wells Fargo customers.
