611: Respect

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I am going to treat you like a mature, responsible, respectful human being…until you prove to me that you are not. Then, I will deal with the problem you are, or that you caused. The next time, I will treat you again like a mature, responsible, respectful human being….until you prove again that you are not. Again, I will deal with you. The third time, I will probably treat you like a real human person – repeat scenario. MAYBE the fourth time I will treat you respectfully……but I will also curtail what I will allow you to do, and how much interaction I have with you, because you have proven over time that you have no interest in adjusting those parts of you that are not mature, responsible and respectful.

And all of that is all on you.

Every stinking bit of it.

587: To be….is to act as if

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I am.

You are.

We act as if we are.

Mostly.

I can’t help it if some people (using that term loosely, mind you) act as if they are not. I am not responsible for people who deliberately choose to be less. It isn’t because of me, or because of how I voted, or any other reason than the true one – they CHOSE.

I can’t help that, but I can condemn it, and we as a group can prosecute and punish it, and so we should.

While the rest of us act as if….we ARE…..human BEings.

330: Oh, My Holy God

This morning, I accessed my Facebook account before I went to my normal morning duty post, because I wanted to check on my husband, who is still in Morocco, tidying up details left over from our three-year life there. Because of the five-hour time difference, he has usually already posted a message for me by the time I arrive at work to start the day with whatever he needs me to do, or to update me on his progress (or lack thereof). So, when my Facebook page opens, there on my friend newsfeed, is this picture.

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My friend is an animal lover, too, but she loves dogs and cats equally well – I am partial to kitties (I tolerate dogs compassionately, but I don’t love them). This picture absolutely wrung my heart out to dry. I burst into tears at this image, similar to my reaction when I see those awful, horrifying, gut-wrenching photographs of the piles of broken humans taken after the Holocaust death camps were liberated. I sobbed.

We as humans will have this to answer for, too, on that day when a holy God brings us one-by-one to the throne of judgement. I know I cannot save them all. I know that. I understand why animal shelters, staffed with people who care for and love animals as much as, or even more, than I do have to do what they have to do. There HAS to be a better way. And people, these broken, wonderful, beautiful, loving creatures are “”just”” cats.

I know that on this planet we live on, right now, this very day, somewhere, there is a pile of broken children and adults that looks just like this neat and tidy pile of euthanized kitty people. I call my babies “”fur children,”” and “”kitty people,”” because they ARE. Anyone who has shared their life with a dog, cat, bird, etc. KNOWS that there is a tiny, thinking, responding, loving entity inside that little furry or feathered body. WE are responsible for this Holocaust of life-snuffing that still is going on, across nations (and across species). Life is life, and all of it is infinitely precious. God help us.