Conflict Management

Conflict swirls everywhere around me.

The Iran Arms Deal.

The Confederate Flag.

Marines gunned down.

Donald Trump v.John McCain.

Monday - Friday there's conflict at work and boys battling to sit in the front seat of the van on the way to camp.

Student v. Instructor

Federal Regulations v. Local Needs

Nights and weekends I live with conflict at Job #2 over tip allocations and who will put away glassware and clean the bathrooms.

Family conflict between siblings. Conflict between divorced spouses over telephone calls.

Confict in my own brain over modernization and the preservation of memories.

It seems, lately, that there's no RECESS from the hard work of moving forward.

I could really use a pause button.


Psalm 143
A psalm of David.

1 Lord, hear my prayer,
listen to my cry for mercy;
in your faithfulness and righteousness
come to my relief.
2 Do not bring your servant into judgment,
for no one living is righteous before you.
3 The enemy pursues me,
he crushes me to the ground;
he makes me dwell in the darkness
like those long dead.
4 So my spirit grows faint within me;
my heart within me is dismayed.
5 I remember the days of long ago;
I meditate on all your works
and consider what your hands have done.
6 I spread out my hands to you;
I thirst for you like a parched land.[a]
7 Answer me quickly, Lord;
my spirit fails.
Do not hide your face from me
or I will be like those who go down to the pit.
8 Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I entrust my life.
9 Rescue me from my enemies, Lord,
for I hide myself in you.
10 Teach me to do your will,
for you are my God;
may your good Spirit
lead me on level ground.

Lord Have Mercy On Those Black Socks

Black socks, they never get dirty,
The longer you wear them the stronger they get.
Sometimes I think I should wash them,
But something inside me says No, no, not yet.
Not yet, not yet, not yet...

There sits a pair of black socks in the cup holder of my mommy van. A young man must have borrowed my vehicle and marked his trail.

I found some black socks in the garden, a few on the back porch, and I ALWAYS find several in the couch and among the couch pillows.

I was amused, this weekend, when I took a tour of my son's camp residence, an "apartment" located above the camp store. As a staff member he shares the space with two adult leaders and one other young staff member.

Underneath the stairs leading up to the loft, among the mud and blades of grass, I spied several "lost" black socks.

Black Pants, White Powder

Boys. They can overlook a coffee table full of dirty dishes in a TV room littered with candy wrappers and dirty socks.

They don't seem to "see" dirty dishes, a floor that needs sweeping, or a light left on in an empty room.

But for some strange reason, they all notice white powder on my black pants.

It struck me this morning when one of the teenagers ran after me yelling, "Mom! Mom!"

"You have...powder on your pants. "

I thank him but think, "so what?!"

Men are from Mars.

Women are from "If-my-slip - or - a -tag-shows -it's no big deal but-could-you-please-notice-that the garbage-needs to be-taken out-planet of - Venus."