Saturday, December 11, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
A "Popular" Misconception
Everyone wants to be popular, right? I always thought that when I was younger. But what does "popular" mean? Is it really for everyone?
Watch pretty much any movie or television program that depicts "happy" people, and you'll notice one thing: people who have a lot of friends are happier than people who don't.
Think about the connotation of the word "popular." When have you ever heard the word used to paint someone in an unflattering light...unless it was by someone who wasn't popular? Popularity is something people dream about achieving and pine over losing.
What do we call someone who doesn't have many friends? "Loner" comes to mind. Ever hear anyone say, "He's a great guy. A real loner!"? I didn't think so. That's unfortunate.
When I was a kid, I thought having tons of friends was important. I watched other girls who moved in huge circles of friends and always thought there must be something wrong with me. Oh, sure. I had friends. I usually had one "best friend" and lots of casual acquaintances, but the other girls seemed to be genuinely close to a lot of people. That just wasn't me.
That still isn't me. In fact, I have realized that friendship is not a one-size-fits-all proposition. Sure. Some of us are meant to be social butterflies and have too many friends to count. That's find for you flit about types. As for me, having one or two super close friends has always been a nice fit.
My husband is my "bestest" friend. I really would rather spend time with him than anyone else. He lets me be my authentic self, the me that would shock your socks off. To John, I'm ZuZu. Apparently, I'm hilarious. I'm also selfish. And melodramatic. And paranoid. John knows all of this and still wants to hang out with me as much as his schedule allows. I think that's pretty cool.
Before you decide it isn't healthy to only be friends with one's spouse, you should know that I have a best girlfriend, too. Kathy has been there for me for the past 12 1/2 years. We've shared the toughest times of our lives, and we've cheered each other on to our greatest triumphs. Although we live on opposite coasts now, we still pass our joy and pain over the phone line and through cyberspace. We have so much in common, from our willful daughters to our douchey ex-husbands to the princes we now share our lives with, that the miles between us feel like inches.
Naturally, I know a lot of people. I even see a few socially sometimes, but here's the thing: I don't generally seek people out. I've even been known to make excuses to avoid going out with people.
I'm going to let you in on something. This is a sort of secret of mine, so you can't go spreading it around. Here's how you know if I really like you enough to want to hang out with you. Do I seek you out? Have I ever stopped by your house just to see you? Do I walk over to you at church to chat? Do I comment you on Facebook? Have you been to my house more than once? If you can answer "yes" to any of these questions, chances are good that I genuinely like you and am not just being polite.
Does any of this mean that I'm not a "loner"? No. It does not. I am most definitely a loner. But that doesn't make me Ted Kaczynski.
Now, where did I put that fuse?
Watch pretty much any movie or television program that depicts "happy" people, and you'll notice one thing: people who have a lot of friends are happier than people who don't.
Think about the connotation of the word "popular." When have you ever heard the word used to paint someone in an unflattering light...unless it was by someone who wasn't popular? Popularity is something people dream about achieving and pine over losing.
What do we call someone who doesn't have many friends? "Loner" comes to mind. Ever hear anyone say, "He's a great guy. A real loner!"? I didn't think so. That's unfortunate.
When I was a kid, I thought having tons of friends was important. I watched other girls who moved in huge circles of friends and always thought there must be something wrong with me. Oh, sure. I had friends. I usually had one "best friend" and lots of casual acquaintances, but the other girls seemed to be genuinely close to a lot of people. That just wasn't me.
That still isn't me. In fact, I have realized that friendship is not a one-size-fits-all proposition. Sure. Some of us are meant to be social butterflies and have too many friends to count. That's find for you flit about types. As for me, having one or two super close friends has always been a nice fit.
My husband is my "bestest" friend. I really would rather spend time with him than anyone else. He lets me be my authentic self, the me that would shock your socks off. To John, I'm ZuZu. Apparently, I'm hilarious. I'm also selfish. And melodramatic. And paranoid. John knows all of this and still wants to hang out with me as much as his schedule allows. I think that's pretty cool.
Before you decide it isn't healthy to only be friends with one's spouse, you should know that I have a best girlfriend, too. Kathy has been there for me for the past 12 1/2 years. We've shared the toughest times of our lives, and we've cheered each other on to our greatest triumphs. Although we live on opposite coasts now, we still pass our joy and pain over the phone line and through cyberspace. We have so much in common, from our willful daughters to our douchey ex-husbands to the princes we now share our lives with, that the miles between us feel like inches.
Naturally, I know a lot of people. I even see a few socially sometimes, but here's the thing: I don't generally seek people out. I've even been known to make excuses to avoid going out with people.
I'm going to let you in on something. This is a sort of secret of mine, so you can't go spreading it around. Here's how you know if I really like you enough to want to hang out with you. Do I seek you out? Have I ever stopped by your house just to see you? Do I walk over to you at church to chat? Do I comment you on Facebook? Have you been to my house more than once? If you can answer "yes" to any of these questions, chances are good that I genuinely like you and am not just being polite.
Does any of this mean that I'm not a "loner"? No. It does not. I am most definitely a loner. But that doesn't make me Ted Kaczynski.
Now, where did I put that fuse?
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
The Lost Key
Since everyone (except me) had the day off on Monday, we went to the Wild Animal Park. For some reason, John decided to break with the norm and put his truck key (his one and only ignition key) on a separate ring. He did that so that he could leave all of the other keys he carries in the glove box. When he announced his plan, I was a little puzzled. We have a key that only opens the doors. We keep it in the glove box and use it when we go to amusement parks, the beach, etc. Not wanting to be "that wife," I didn't ask questions.
We went to the park and a couple of grocery stores. He never lost the key. That part is clear since we made it all the way home. When we parked in the driveway, I got his other keys out of the glove box and unlocked the house. He got some grocery bags from his side and followed me in.
Tuesday morning when he got ready to leave for work, I could tell he was missing something. When he told me it was the truck key, I got up and started helping him look. It soon became pretty obvious that he didn't just misplace it. It was actually gone. We tore the house apart looking for it. We did that thing that everyone does when something is missing: we looked in the most ridiculous places. Could it be in the produce drawer in the fridge? Maybe. Let's look. Nope. Maybe it's in the silverware drawer. You get my meaning.
The worst part about the whole thing is that his truck was blocking my SUV in. We had moved it out of the way when we were putting up the sailboat mast over the weekend. That meant that he couldn't get to work. Thankfully, he has the kind of job where he can occasionally work from home.
We looked for the key throughout the morning. I think he went through the trash twice. We both crawled through the grass searching like Velma after she dropped her glasses. It was such a pain!
Between conference calls, John called the local Ford dealership and found out that we would have to have the truck towed there to get new keys made. The cost for two keys: $150!
Not wanting to shell out that kind of cash for no reason, we continued to look. We had grilled both of the kids about the key. Molly loves little trinkets. We thought she might have picked it up for the silver surfboard keychain. Maya just has issues. We thought she might have taken it to get back at us. We really wanted to wait until they got home from school to see if anyone came clean. The only other idea we had as to what might have happened was that John dropped the key getting out of the truck. Maybe someone saw it and picked it up.
While we were waiting, I decided to check whether a mobile locksmith could help us. I found out that it was possible, but how much would it cost? We have roadside assistance with our car insurance, so John called them. They would cover the first $100. The balance would be on us. They were even nice enough to call and get quotes before selecting a locksmith. Since we had decided by this time that the key gone for good, we were thrilled to have someone come out and help. As it turned out, the cost to us was the same as it would have been if we'd had it towed to the dealer. Of course, it didn't cost as much in time or inconvenience. Score another one for Sahlin teamwork!
And if you're wondering whether someone has the key and could steal the truck, I wish them lots of luck. The locksmith reset the ignition code to match the new keys!
The ironic thing about all of this is that John had said on Monday that we really needed to bite the bullet and get a second key made. ;-)
We went to the park and a couple of grocery stores. He never lost the key. That part is clear since we made it all the way home. When we parked in the driveway, I got his other keys out of the glove box and unlocked the house. He got some grocery bags from his side and followed me in.
Tuesday morning when he got ready to leave for work, I could tell he was missing something. When he told me it was the truck key, I got up and started helping him look. It soon became pretty obvious that he didn't just misplace it. It was actually gone. We tore the house apart looking for it. We did that thing that everyone does when something is missing: we looked in the most ridiculous places. Could it be in the produce drawer in the fridge? Maybe. Let's look. Nope. Maybe it's in the silverware drawer. You get my meaning.
The worst part about the whole thing is that his truck was blocking my SUV in. We had moved it out of the way when we were putting up the sailboat mast over the weekend. That meant that he couldn't get to work. Thankfully, he has the kind of job where he can occasionally work from home.
We looked for the key throughout the morning. I think he went through the trash twice. We both crawled through the grass searching like Velma after she dropped her glasses. It was such a pain!
Between conference calls, John called the local Ford dealership and found out that we would have to have the truck towed there to get new keys made. The cost for two keys: $150!
Not wanting to shell out that kind of cash for no reason, we continued to look. We had grilled both of the kids about the key. Molly loves little trinkets. We thought she might have picked it up for the silver surfboard keychain. Maya just has issues. We thought she might have taken it to get back at us. We really wanted to wait until they got home from school to see if anyone came clean. The only other idea we had as to what might have happened was that John dropped the key getting out of the truck. Maybe someone saw it and picked it up.
While we were waiting, I decided to check whether a mobile locksmith could help us. I found out that it was possible, but how much would it cost? We have roadside assistance with our car insurance, so John called them. They would cover the first $100. The balance would be on us. They were even nice enough to call and get quotes before selecting a locksmith. Since we had decided by this time that the key gone for good, we were thrilled to have someone come out and help. As it turned out, the cost to us was the same as it would have been if we'd had it towed to the dealer. Of course, it didn't cost as much in time or inconvenience. Score another one for Sahlin teamwork!
And if you're wondering whether someone has the key and could steal the truck, I wish them lots of luck. The locksmith reset the ignition code to match the new keys!
The ironic thing about all of this is that John had said on Monday that we really needed to bite the bullet and get a second key made. ;-)
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
I am not a sentimental girl. In fact, I am probably the opposite of sentimental, whatever that is. (I'll go with "pragmatic" over "dispassionate.") In light of that, no one is more surprised than I that I have so many cherished items from high school in my scrapbook.
When I was in high school, I worked at The Nut Hut. Before you get carried away, that is not code for the State Home for the Criminally Insane or even a gay bar. It was an overpriced mall shop that sold nuts and candy by the pound. The shop took up a busy corner and was really just a wrap around candy counter. This made it a fun place to work since the people watching opportunities were endless.
Apparently, the people watching worked both ways. John says that the first time he ever saw me was from the jewelry store across the mall. He watched me for a long time, trying to decide how to approach me, what to say. It finally occurred to him: "Just go buy something, you idiot!" And I remember well when he finally did. He sampled and bought and sampled and bought. I thought he must be older and have a pretty good job to be able to afford the high priced goodies. No one ever bought entire pounds of anything, much less white chocolate with almonds AND Jelly Belly jelly beans!
On subsequent visits, he talked to me a lot. I found out that we were the same age. We joked that we had become "good friends." Still, I was surprised when I arrived for work one day and found a note he had left with one of my coworkers. Here's the text of that note:
"I was just thinking, since we're such 'good friends,' maybe we should get to know each other better -- maybe go to a movie or something. Do me a favor and give me a call, will ya?"
It was signed "John (the guy from White Hall that likes white chocolate and jelly beans)." Naturally, I called him. We started chatting on the phone as often as our school and work schedules would allow. (All of this was in very early 1988. You all remember the 80's. We actually talked on phones instead of typing on them.)
Even with all of the talking we had done, I was surprised when he sent me a card for Valentine's Day. On the cover was a picture of a barefoot couple on a swing watching the sunset. The caption read, "I want a meaningful relationship." The inside text: "But I'll settle for meaningless sex!" He had inserted a booklet of "love coupons." (I guess someone was shopping at Spencer's. ;-)
Thankfully, John was wise enough to write a note rather than leaving it all to the genius greeting card writers. Here is what he wrote:
"Ha ha! Just a small joke. Look, maybe our parents and friends (at least mine) are right. Maybe we should go out, what say? I mean, if your mother and brother keep pestering you and my friends keep pestering me much longer, I'm sure we'll both go crazy. So here I go with a proper proposal (please remember that I'm not very good at this). Would you like to go out with me Friday night (If you have to work, we can catch the late movie at the mall)?
I'm not an animal that wants to ravish you at first chance, I just want to have a nice date with you. After that -- who knows?
P.S. The coupons are good any time with no expiration date."
Naturally, I went out with him. That first date was February 19, 1988. If you're straining to do the math, that was 22 years ago this Friday. So, yes, I kept that card. I kept the note. I kept the card that came with the flowers he sent me at school the day of our first date. In fact, I kept lots of cards from lots of flowers he sent while we were together in high school. I have kept all of these things and more because the time we spent together was the best time of my life...until almost two years ago when we found each other again. It is no surprise that that time is the one about which pragmatic me is the most sentimental.
If I had only kept those darn love coupons...
When I was in high school, I worked at The Nut Hut. Before you get carried away, that is not code for the State Home for the Criminally Insane or even a gay bar. It was an overpriced mall shop that sold nuts and candy by the pound. The shop took up a busy corner and was really just a wrap around candy counter. This made it a fun place to work since the people watching opportunities were endless.
Apparently, the people watching worked both ways. John says that the first time he ever saw me was from the jewelry store across the mall. He watched me for a long time, trying to decide how to approach me, what to say. It finally occurred to him: "Just go buy something, you idiot!" And I remember well when he finally did. He sampled and bought and sampled and bought. I thought he must be older and have a pretty good job to be able to afford the high priced goodies. No one ever bought entire pounds of anything, much less white chocolate with almonds AND Jelly Belly jelly beans!
On subsequent visits, he talked to me a lot. I found out that we were the same age. We joked that we had become "good friends." Still, I was surprised when I arrived for work one day and found a note he had left with one of my coworkers. Here's the text of that note:
"I was just thinking, since we're such 'good friends,' maybe we should get to know each other better -- maybe go to a movie or something. Do me a favor and give me a call, will ya?"
It was signed "John (the guy from White Hall that likes white chocolate and jelly beans)." Naturally, I called him. We started chatting on the phone as often as our school and work schedules would allow. (All of this was in very early 1988. You all remember the 80's. We actually talked on phones instead of typing on them.)
Even with all of the talking we had done, I was surprised when he sent me a card for Valentine's Day. On the cover was a picture of a barefoot couple on a swing watching the sunset. The caption read, "I want a meaningful relationship." The inside text: "But I'll settle for meaningless sex!" He had inserted a booklet of "love coupons." (I guess someone was shopping at Spencer's. ;-)
Thankfully, John was wise enough to write a note rather than leaving it all to the genius greeting card writers. Here is what he wrote:
"Ha ha! Just a small joke. Look, maybe our parents and friends (at least mine) are right. Maybe we should go out, what say? I mean, if your mother and brother keep pestering you and my friends keep pestering me much longer, I'm sure we'll both go crazy. So here I go with a proper proposal (please remember that I'm not very good at this). Would you like to go out with me Friday night (If you have to work, we can catch the late movie at the mall)?
I'm not an animal that wants to ravish you at first chance, I just want to have a nice date with you. After that -- who knows?
P.S. The coupons are good any time with no expiration date."
Naturally, I went out with him. That first date was February 19, 1988. If you're straining to do the math, that was 22 years ago this Friday. So, yes, I kept that card. I kept the note. I kept the card that came with the flowers he sent me at school the day of our first date. In fact, I kept lots of cards from lots of flowers he sent while we were together in high school. I have kept all of these things and more because the time we spent together was the best time of my life...until almost two years ago when we found each other again. It is no surprise that that time is the one about which pragmatic me is the most sentimental.
If I had only kept those darn love coupons...
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
This is terrible. I can't imagine how the athletes and the family of this young man are feeling tonight. http://ping.fm/wtQK3
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
A Fable
Mrs. Mouse was very excited when Mr. Mouse announced that the family would be moving to a village. She always enjoyed new places and couldn't wait to start making new friends. Before the family moved, Mrs. Mouse went to see Spider. Spider was very well-connected. Through his web, one that might be called "world wide," Spider was able to help Mrs. Mouse learn all about the new village. Before she even moved, Mrs. Mouse had written to some folks in the new village, the Foxes, and was excited to meet them.
When the Mouse family got to the new village, they were greeted by the Rats. The Rats seemed like a nice family. They were young, friendly, welcoming, and were friends of the Foxes. The Rats invited the Mouses to a meeting that the Foxes were hosting the next day. Of course, Mrs. Mouse was pleased that she was already making friends. Naturally, the Mouses would attend.
As it turned out, the Foxes hosted weekly meetings for their friends. Mr. Rabbit would lead everyone in singing songs. Mr. Fox would speak about issues he thought were important. Afterward, everyone would spend time together laughing, talking, and eating. To Mrs. Mouse, it seemed like a perfect group. She even started helping Mr. Rabbit with the music when he heard that she was a musician.
The Mouses became very close to the Rats, the Foxes, the Rabbits, and many others within the group. They spent time together outside of the weekly meetings and grew comfortable with each other, so comfortable that Mrs. Mouse was not surprised when Mrs. Goose approached her in the village square and began discussing her concerns with how the meetings were being run. As it turned out, Mrs. Goose did not like the way that Mr. Fox was running the meetings. She said she thought he did not really care about the others and was more interested in what his friends could give him than what he could do for them. In short, Mrs. Goose felt Mr. Fox was greedy and was telling anyone who would listen that he should not be leading the meetings.
Mrs. Mouse was stunned. She really liked Mr. Fox. During the days after her talk with Mrs. Goose, Mrs. Mouse searched her heart for what to do. Should she warn Mr. Fox that someone was slandering him, or should she say nothing?
When the day for the next meeting came and Mrs. Mouse saw Mr. Fox, she knew she had to speak up. She went to him and told him all that Mrs. Goose had said in the hope that the knowledge would allow him to protect himself. To Mrs. Mouse's surprise, Mr. Fox shared what he had been told with the entire group, Mrs. Goose included, omitting only the source of the information. Mrs. Mouse was further surprised to hear that many felt as Mrs. Goose did. People who had been friends began shouting at one another. It was a horrible scene. When it ended, half of the group had left and vowed never to return. Mr. Fox remained with the other half, as did Mrs. Mouse.
At first, those who stayed thought they would be better off without the ones who spoke out against their leader. They grew closer to one another and worked twice as hard to get new people to join the group and to raise enough money to meet the financial obligations of the group. Sadly, their efforts were not enough. It was no time at all before Mr. Fox, the same Mr. Fox over whom the original group had split, announced that he could not lead such a small, struggling group. There was a group in another village that he would be leading, a larger, more stable group. Everyone was shocked, but no one lost hope.
Mrs. Mouse, Mr. Rabbit, and the others continued to work hard to get new people to join and to raise money while also trying to find a new leader. Unfortunately, the group was just too small to make any of this happen. Little by little, hope died. Along with their hope, the group died. Mrs. Mouse and the others watched as everything fell apart. They were devastated, especially Mrs. Mouse. She knew in her heart that she started it all. Oh, she didn't mean to. She didn't want to start trouble. All she did was tell the truth. Sometimes the truth doesn't set us free.
Mrs. Mouse spent many years unable to forgive herself for what she had done. It had never crossed her mind that telling the truth and wanting only good could end so horribly. After the group disbanded, Mrs. Mouse could not bring herself to join another for a very long time. When she finally did, she applied what she had learned. She watched, listened, pondered. What she rarely did was speak up, for she knew that even the truth could do harm. Instead, she gave much thought to her words, knowing that the exact words that can help one can hurt another.
Who is this Mouse? Why, I am, of course. The "group" was the last church I belonged to before UCCLM, a church that had existed for nearly forty years before I found it. Thankfully, I learned that speaking up is not always the best thing to do, even when we feel like what we have to say should be heard. Sometimes, we need to listen. Afterall, we do have two ears and only one mouth. I'm sure that's for a very good reason.
When the Mouse family got to the new village, they were greeted by the Rats. The Rats seemed like a nice family. They were young, friendly, welcoming, and were friends of the Foxes. The Rats invited the Mouses to a meeting that the Foxes were hosting the next day. Of course, Mrs. Mouse was pleased that she was already making friends. Naturally, the Mouses would attend.
As it turned out, the Foxes hosted weekly meetings for their friends. Mr. Rabbit would lead everyone in singing songs. Mr. Fox would speak about issues he thought were important. Afterward, everyone would spend time together laughing, talking, and eating. To Mrs. Mouse, it seemed like a perfect group. She even started helping Mr. Rabbit with the music when he heard that she was a musician.
The Mouses became very close to the Rats, the Foxes, the Rabbits, and many others within the group. They spent time together outside of the weekly meetings and grew comfortable with each other, so comfortable that Mrs. Mouse was not surprised when Mrs. Goose approached her in the village square and began discussing her concerns with how the meetings were being run. As it turned out, Mrs. Goose did not like the way that Mr. Fox was running the meetings. She said she thought he did not really care about the others and was more interested in what his friends could give him than what he could do for them. In short, Mrs. Goose felt Mr. Fox was greedy and was telling anyone who would listen that he should not be leading the meetings.
Mrs. Mouse was stunned. She really liked Mr. Fox. During the days after her talk with Mrs. Goose, Mrs. Mouse searched her heart for what to do. Should she warn Mr. Fox that someone was slandering him, or should she say nothing?
When the day for the next meeting came and Mrs. Mouse saw Mr. Fox, she knew she had to speak up. She went to him and told him all that Mrs. Goose had said in the hope that the knowledge would allow him to protect himself. To Mrs. Mouse's surprise, Mr. Fox shared what he had been told with the entire group, Mrs. Goose included, omitting only the source of the information. Mrs. Mouse was further surprised to hear that many felt as Mrs. Goose did. People who had been friends began shouting at one another. It was a horrible scene. When it ended, half of the group had left and vowed never to return. Mr. Fox remained with the other half, as did Mrs. Mouse.
At first, those who stayed thought they would be better off without the ones who spoke out against their leader. They grew closer to one another and worked twice as hard to get new people to join the group and to raise enough money to meet the financial obligations of the group. Sadly, their efforts were not enough. It was no time at all before Mr. Fox, the same Mr. Fox over whom the original group had split, announced that he could not lead such a small, struggling group. There was a group in another village that he would be leading, a larger, more stable group. Everyone was shocked, but no one lost hope.
Mrs. Mouse, Mr. Rabbit, and the others continued to work hard to get new people to join and to raise money while also trying to find a new leader. Unfortunately, the group was just too small to make any of this happen. Little by little, hope died. Along with their hope, the group died. Mrs. Mouse and the others watched as everything fell apart. They were devastated, especially Mrs. Mouse. She knew in her heart that she started it all. Oh, she didn't mean to. She didn't want to start trouble. All she did was tell the truth. Sometimes the truth doesn't set us free.
Mrs. Mouse spent many years unable to forgive herself for what she had done. It had never crossed her mind that telling the truth and wanting only good could end so horribly. After the group disbanded, Mrs. Mouse could not bring herself to join another for a very long time. When she finally did, she applied what she had learned. She watched, listened, pondered. What she rarely did was speak up, for she knew that even the truth could do harm. Instead, she gave much thought to her words, knowing that the exact words that can help one can hurt another.
Who is this Mouse? Why, I am, of course. The "group" was the last church I belonged to before UCCLM, a church that had existed for nearly forty years before I found it. Thankfully, I learned that speaking up is not always the best thing to do, even when we feel like what we have to say should be heard. Sometimes, we need to listen. Afterall, we do have two ears and only one mouth. I'm sure that's for a very good reason.
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