Where in the course of a relationship, regardless of what type, do we transition from a valued partner to unappreciated and taken for granted. No, I'm not talking about a husband or boyfriend, but there is this guy. He's the head of another department in my company, and I have to work with him quite a bit these days.
He's got plenty of his own issues: insecure, moody, catty, but I've always liked working with him. I enjoy his energy and his ideas. When we first started working on a big project together at the beginning of the year (I'm the project manager, he's the sponsor), he was all thank yous and praise. Now, I've turned into his whipping horse when he's having a bad day. How quickly things change.
I've tried every which way I know to avoid pushing the button that causes him to become so defensive, but I don't even know what the button is to avoid it! He's so insecure that talking to him isn't really an option. Once he knows he's been an ass, his version of an apology for an unnecessary head biting is to avoid me for weeks on end (at the expense of the project) and act like we've just been so busy we didn't have time. His misbehavior never comes up. He just acts like it never happened. All is forgiven, right?
Working with this person is no longer fun. I feel like I'm walking in a mine field. It's sad really. I could have learned more from him -- and him from me though he'd never admit that, but he won't change, and I'm not taking his shit anymore. Game over.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Friday, August 17, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
A God I can relate to ...
I love the story below. I finally have a way to explain by discontent with religion in terms anyone can understand. Thank you, Susan, for passing it along. I really appreciate it! (And I'm not being a smartass when I say that.)
It's no secret that I am not a traditionally religious person. Lord knows how many arguments I've gotten into with my dad about church and God and Jesus. (I happily wear the heathen crown in the family.) I don't like church, or even organized religion for that matter, because most of my experiences have been with the people in the pews, not the old man. One of my favorite books of all time is the Book of Ruth, but not because I think it's history, but because it's a beautiful story of love and devotion that I can relate to and learn from and take hope that I will find that same love and devotion from someone. I've read the entire Bible (old and new testament and a few extra books in the Catholic canon) cover to cover -- twice.
My God may not be your God, but that doesn't matter to anyone but you. He is mine, and I have faith because I believe in him. I can't be wrong about that. I live in the world and love the world with all that's in nature as my congregation, and I spend time every day appreciating the miracle that it is, even in the face of pain and suffering and ugliness. God is an artist. I love his work, and I take time to understand and appreciate it. In the end, I think that is what will really matter to him, not how many Sundays I spent in church.
Enjoy the story.
His name is Bill. He has wild hair, wears a T-shirt with holes in it, jeans, and no shoes. This was literally his wardrobe for his entire four years of college.
He is brilliant. Kind of profound and very, very bright. He became a Christian while attending college.
Across the street from the campus is a well-dressed, very conservative church. They want to develop a ministry to the students but are not sure how to go about it.
One day Bill decides to go there. He walks in with no shoes, jeans, his T-shirt, and wild hair. The service has already started and so Bill starts down the aisle looking for a seat.
The church is completely packed and he can't find a seat. By now, people are really looking a bit uncomfortable, but no one says anything.
Bill gets closer and closer and closer to the pulpit, and when he realizes there are no seats, he just squats down right on the carpet.
By now the people are really uptight, and the tension in the air is thick.
About this time, the minister realizes that from way at the back of the church, a deacon is slowly making his way toward Bill.
Now, the deacon is in his eighties, has silver-gray hair, and a three-piece suit. A godly man, very elegant, very dignified, very courtly. He walks with a cane, and as he starts walking toward this boy, everyone is saying to themselves that you can't blame him for what he's going to do. How can you expect a man of his age and of his background to understand some college kid on the floor?
It takes a long time for the man to reach the boy.
The church is utterly silent except for the clicking of the man's cane. All eyes are focused on him. You can't even hear anyone breathing. The minister can't even preach the sermon until the deacon does what he has to do.
And now they see this elderly man drop his cane on the floor. With great difficulty, he lowers himself and sits down next to Bill and worships with him so he won't be alone.
Everyone chokes up with emotion. When the minister gains control, he says,"What I'm about to preach, you will never remember. What you have just seen, you will never forget."
"Be careful how you live. You may be the only Bible some people will ever read!"
I asked the Lord to bless you
As I prayed for you today.
To guide you and protect you
As you go along your way....
His love is always with you,
His promises are true,
And when we give Him all our cares,
You know He will see us through.
It's no secret that I am not a traditionally religious person. Lord knows how many arguments I've gotten into with my dad about church and God and Jesus. (I happily wear the heathen crown in the family.) I don't like church, or even organized religion for that matter, because most of my experiences have been with the people in the pews, not the old man. One of my favorite books of all time is the Book of Ruth, but not because I think it's history, but because it's a beautiful story of love and devotion that I can relate to and learn from and take hope that I will find that same love and devotion from someone. I've read the entire Bible (old and new testament and a few extra books in the Catholic canon) cover to cover -- twice.
My God may not be your God, but that doesn't matter to anyone but you. He is mine, and I have faith because I believe in him. I can't be wrong about that. I live in the world and love the world with all that's in nature as my congregation, and I spend time every day appreciating the miracle that it is, even in the face of pain and suffering and ugliness. God is an artist. I love his work, and I take time to understand and appreciate it. In the end, I think that is what will really matter to him, not how many Sundays I spent in church.
Enjoy the story.
His name is Bill. He has wild hair, wears a T-shirt with holes in it, jeans, and no shoes. This was literally his wardrobe for his entire four years of college.
He is brilliant. Kind of profound and very, very bright. He became a Christian while attending college.
Across the street from the campus is a well-dressed, very conservative church. They want to develop a ministry to the students but are not sure how to go about it.
One day Bill decides to go there. He walks in with no shoes, jeans, his T-shirt, and wild hair. The service has already started and so Bill starts down the aisle looking for a seat.
The church is completely packed and he can't find a seat. By now, people are really looking a bit uncomfortable, but no one says anything.
Bill gets closer and closer and closer to the pulpit, and when he realizes there are no seats, he just squats down right on the carpet.
By now the people are really uptight, and the tension in the air is thick.
About this time, the minister realizes that from way at the back of the church, a deacon is slowly making his way toward Bill.
Now, the deacon is in his eighties, has silver-gray hair, and a three-piece suit. A godly man, very elegant, very dignified, very courtly. He walks with a cane, and as he starts walking toward this boy, everyone is saying to themselves that you can't blame him for what he's going to do. How can you expect a man of his age and of his background to understand some college kid on the floor?
It takes a long time for the man to reach the boy.
The church is utterly silent except for the clicking of the man's cane. All eyes are focused on him. You can't even hear anyone breathing. The minister can't even preach the sermon until the deacon does what he has to do.
And now they see this elderly man drop his cane on the floor. With great difficulty, he lowers himself and sits down next to Bill and worships with him so he won't be alone.
Everyone chokes up with emotion. When the minister gains control, he says,"What I'm about to preach, you will never remember. What you have just seen, you will never forget."
"Be careful how you live. You may be the only Bible some people will ever read!"
I asked the Lord to bless you
As I prayed for you today.
To guide you and protect you
As you go along your way....
His love is always with you,
His promises are true,
And when we give Him all our cares,
You know He will see us through.
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