Sep
1
2010
Uncategorized By Kristen Palser | 2 comments

Step Before You Step

Chad and Renee in Palmer Park

This weekend I went to visit an old college friend in Colorado Springs.  There’s something about seeing someone who knew you before you were completely grown up.  They know the part of you that is truly you, the core of your adult self.  Somewhere along the way we often lose that person that still has a little bit of a child in them.  It gets lost under the seats with the empty Coke bottles, chip bags, and crumpled up old dried fries from McDonald’s.  I think when we are are right out of high school that person is at the verge of a percipice and is ready to jump into life, almost like a swimming pool.  There is so much excitement and sometimes a little fear.

Some  are more afraid than others.  Chad never had any fear.  He was confident, and if there was fear, he pushed it aside.  But he wasn’t reckless, he calculated things and was smart.  I was worried.  I always worried, and I still do.  But now I’m more prepared about things, so I don’t have so much to worry about.  In fact, I worried so much back then that when Chad took my wisdom teeth out, the doctor he was working with said this, “Let’s give you a little something to relax.”  She knocked me completely out.  There was no relaxing.  It was straight to twilight sleep.  It was probably for the best.  I guess I continued to talk the entire procedure anyway.  She had to tell me to be quiet several times.

So, when I heard Chad say, “Come on, Kristen.”  It took me back to being twenty-one again.  It was like being in some crazy dream world where time had stopped and I was back to that person who was the very essence of Kristen Rae Palser, no addidtive or preservatives, straight and pure from concentrate.

Chad, and his wife Renee, and I drove up to Palmer Park in Colorado Springs at 10 P.M. and looked across the city.  It was beautiful.  I even stood on the ledge.  That is dangerous territory for me.  Then he said, “I want to take you guys somewhere else.”  We drove around and while still on the mountain into this back road.  I couldn’t believe he took his Volvo with his leather seats and tinted windows onto these rough outback roads.  Renee doesn’t drive the Volvo because the windows are “borderline illegal, ” she says.  I love Renee.

We all got out of the car like proper adults.  Then Chad started climbing the rocks.  No flashlights, no lights were anywhere near us.  Just the moon and the stars were there to guide us.  I told Chad I couldn’t see and that I just had flip flops on.  “Come on, Kristen.”   Somehow that one phrase that I had heard so many years ago seemed to reassure me. It’s not that I didn’t think it was a little crazy.  I’ve got your crazy.  But my measuring stick for crazy is possibly broken.

I went forward, but with my hands out in front of me as if it would keep me from falling forward when really I should’ve been worried about falling backwards.  Renee followed me telling Chad she had on heels.  Up we went, climbing over the rocks, around the trees.  There wasn’t a path.  It was upward bound all the way. I felt like a blind goat. Renee and I were a little out of breath at the top, but it was fantastic. We stood there for quite some time on a flat piece of rock.  They pointed to the outline of Pike’s Peak and the college football stadium.  I didn’t even think about going back down.  But then it was upon us.

Chad told us to “step before we stepped.”  He asked if we knew what he meant.  We did.  Renee had to take her shoes off for part of the way.  I had a much easier time getting down, even though we went a totally different way, not that I would’ve been able to tell the difference.  I still couldn’t see.  Chad took both of our hands on the last two steps, in a gallant gesture that was totally unecessary but greatly appreciated.  Now that we didn’t need help, there was the hand.  It was a learning lesson for me, the climbing.  It’s kind of like God.  Going along with us, leading us, not doing all the work for us, and then taking us by the hand in the end.

At the very bottom and when we were getting in the car, I felt a little exhilerated.  I had stepped out of my comfort zone.  Who goes hiking in the dark?  I didn’t really ever do that when I was 21, let alone now that I am 38.  When we drove out on the rugged road, we passed some young people in their sports cars passing around bottles.  That’s what I would’ve been doing out in the country years ago.  This was so much more fun.  I want to do it again, in tennis shoes.

There are so many lessons to be learned from that 45 minutes I spent with Chad and Renee in Palmer Park.  It’s worth more than I can say.  But I think about that sentence, “step before you step.”  Sometimes we can’t always see where we are going in life.  God doesn’t always shine a huge flashlight and say, “Thus goeth you in thiseth wayeth.”  We just know to climb to the top.  But we are still going to go.  We are never alone.  It’s not a solo journey.  We do it together.  Christianity is a team sport.  Those are His promises to us.  But it’s wise to step before we step. Don’t step on the sand or the loose rocks.  Make sure you are on solid ground, and then it will be a little exhilerating.  Christianity was never meant to be boring.  This is life abundantly and He wants that part of you that is pure and from concentrate.  That pure essence of you, He loves that part.  Can I get a witness?

Even if you don’t believe in God, this is wise advice.  Be sure of your steps and don’t go alone.

May
20
2010
Uncategorized By Kristen Palser | 4 comments

Amazing Grace How Sweet The Sound

Amazing Grace - 7yr old Rhema Marvanne Latest Version

Rhema Marvanne Singing Amazing Grace on You Tube

Funerals in my family are an affair of a different sort.  In a sense, they are a “family affair.”  I think it started happening when my father’s mother passed away.  I arrived, and there was a slide show with pictures of my grandma while my Uncle Mark narrated.  He so gracefully told of a story about his childhood.  He had been a young boy and they had asked about whom his mother was and he hadn’t said his own mom, but his Aunt Helen.  It had saddened my grandma.  Uncle Mark went on to say many more things about Grandma and then ended saying Aunt Helen was his mother that day, but that Grandma was the Mother of His Life.  It about took my breathe away.  It was so beautifully put together.  I knew my Dad and Uncle had done it themselves.  There must be a creative gene somewhere.

When my Grandpa died a few years after, we all drove down to Big Springs expecting something similar.  We hugged each other, comforting each other in our pain.  As we began speaking, we discovered that we all had assignments.  My father had actually given each of us a job at this funeral.  There was no time to grieve.  This was a time to work.  I had written a letter to my grandfather in his final days and I had to read that.  My cousin had to read the eulogy.  My sister was playing for the worship session.  My dad was preaching.  My brother was playing the guitar.  My other sister was putting the pictures and mementos into the box with the urns.  My aunt and cousin were singing.  And that was the short list.  That funeral lasted no less than two and a half hours.  We were “blessed with the opportunity to work through our grief” at this funeral.

I tell you the truth; I had such a difficult time reading the letter.  I was crying, and so I had to wipe the tears away.  To do that I had to lift up my glasses, and with the constant lifting up of the glasses, I couldn’t see the paper.  I basically held out my glasses away from my face and read the paper from afar.  But all the people crowded into the tiny Big Springs Assembly of God Church were family only, and it was standing room only. They laughed along with me, and they cried with me.  When other members of the family got up to talk about times they had spent with my grandpa, I learned things I had never known about him.  I was surprised.  But they were all wonderful memories; funny and quirky with dignity as his base, just like him.  They spoke directly to his personality and his walk with the Lord.  Then we filed out and filled the fellowship hall.  We ate and laughed and talked really loud, because we are Palser’s and that’s the only volume we communicate at.

It was at this very church, that I really learned what a perfect funeral was.  My great-great grandma had passed away.  My cousin three or four times removed was singing.  (I should mention that nobody counts the removing part of cousins on the Palser side.  If you are a cousin, you are a cousin.)  As he was singing “Amazing Grace”, he stalled in the middle of the first verse, overcome with emotion.  He missed three or four words.  And then four men in the congregation stood up and started singing without abandon.  Their voices loud and raising high to the roof.  At full volume, they continued and without pause the entire rest of the congregation stood up and joined.  Nobody had to pick up a hymnal, and not a soul blinked an eye to stop and think about this.  It was as natural as breathing.  It was majestic.  Our leader picked up the mike and joined in.  This time he had a full chorus.  This was a testament to my great-grandma.  She had begotten a family that had gone to church and supported each other.  They raised their voices and praised the Lord together when they were sad.

That day “Amazing Grace” became my favorite song.  I have heard many versions, but none can even compare to that day.  We will continue to have funerals.  That is the sad fact of life.  And we will continue to celebrate people’s lives, not grieve.  Not with just our blood relatives, but with our real families.  Our last celebration was three hours.  We don’t skimp on the good stuff.

May
6
2010
Uncategorized By Kristen Palser | 2 comments

El Desperado del Toilet Paper

Last week a man robbed a convenience store in Lincoln, Nebraska with toilet paper wrapped around his head as a disguise.  He was on foot and he made a successful getaway.  When I read that, it made me pause for a second for several reasons.  I always find it interesting that someone could have a clean getaway on foot in the middle of a city, but it was the toilet paper that was the most interesting.

How did he choose toilet paper as his disguise?  It almost sounds as if it were a “truth or dare” moment.  I dare you to rob a store with toilet paper on your head or tell us…well, you can fill in the blank there.  Or perhaps he was with his friends and they decided to rob a store and he was given three items to choose from to use as a disguise: toilet paper, panty hose, or a black hoodie.  Still, under the previous mentioned circumstances, toilet paper would not be the smartest choice.

I guarantee that if there was a woman in the room when that decision was made, it would not have been made at all.  Toilet paper would not be the choice.  That particular item comes at a premium for most women.  It is like the gold of the grocery store.  My ex-husband was a smart man and would buy it in bulk.  He, in no way, would waste it for a crime.  And anyone who did the grocery shopping would’ve chosen something else.   It’s like milk.  It’s always on the list.

Besides, toilet paper could get wet and practically melt on your face if it rained.  If the wind blew, it would blow right off your face and your whole disguise would be ruined.  But the genius of toilet paper is that it could be easily discarded.  No one would notice toilet paper in the dumpster, and I doubt any good finger prints could be lifted.  But I digress.

I can only imagine sitting there on the couch, looking at my disguise of toilet paper, and getting up the nerve to go rob a convenience store.  The whole scenario is just stupid, because you get little money out of holding up a convenience store and the risk of going to jail for a long time is high when you use a lousy disguise.  So why would you do this?  Desperation.  He should really be called, “Desperado”.  It makes me think of the Eagles song by that name.  “Why don’t you come to your senses?”

People do a lot of things out of desperation.  Sometimes when it comes to that point, we look around and see no answers.  That’s when the stupid decisions are often made.  We stop thinking and just start acting.  Stupidity at its finest is at play.  That’s exactly when we need to just stop and give ourselves a time out, because we are acting like a child then.

If we can only take that toilet paper and put it back down, step back and take a breath.  Then take two more because you were going to use toilet paper to rob a store.  Now decide to do something different with that desperation.  That same feeling can drive you to moments of greatness.  It can fuel determination and can grab your gut and make you do things you didn’t think you were capable of.  You can run that extra mile.  If you are truly desperate, you can do anything.  Apparently, you can rob a convenience store with toilet paper.  I hope I can channel my desperation into something more constructive.  Maybe I can move up the line of paper products and do something with cardboard to clean up a park…just kidding.

Apr
28
2010
Uncategorized By Kristen Palser | 2 comments

What Goes Up Must Come Down

Driving around on your lunch hour is not always the best time to notice the intricacies’ of scaffolding across the street.  However, that is sometimes what life gives you.  There were two men standing on a number of wooden slats two stories high supported by steel.  Not working in a field that uses this equipment, I am totally unfamiliar with this.  As I looked, I noticed that one edge was significantly curved upward.  The man standing on it began cranking a wheel and as he did the boards came down and straightened themselves out.  He was then on a straight horizontal surface.  It should be said, the surface was not very wide.

I sat there a little stunned at the stop sign, my car engine running quietly.  I had always thought that when people were on scaffolding; it simply went up and down (like I always saw on T.V.)  The whole section would either move up or down together.  I didn’t know that the boards could curve in such an extreme way.  Plus, I somehow thought it was sturdier and all made out of steel.  I had to take a moment to remind myself that life is not always as we see it on T.V.   That was not such a funny moment for an educated adult.

I always feel a little nervous when I see boards curving.  I always think they will snap.  It will inevitably make me jump.  It’s like waiting for the other shoe to fall.  I know people bend boards for projects. My grandfather, who is an engineer, built a small bridge that spanned a creek with boards that are all bent.  He went through a whole process of curing the boards so they would be strong.  These boards that I was looking at were a grouping of 2X4’s.  That much I knew.  How far could they bend before they would break?

Should we be bending the boards in our lives?   The first time you are up there must be scary.  I would be terrified.  I’m not extremely found of heights. I can’t even go off the high dive at the swimming pool.  But you would get used to it.  Then you begin to adjust the slant of the boards, bending them ever so slightly.  Before you know it, you will be walking on the incline like a pro.  Back and forth you will go.  The more you do it, the easier it becomes.

I’ve taken care of people in the hospital who have fallen three stories on construction sites.  They have lifelong damage to their bodies.  They often live in continual pain.  I looked at those boards bending again as he went down another three and a half feet on the opposite side, the boards bending easily.  It wasn’t the first time they had bowed, they did it with ease.

Maybe it’s a good thing to examine the moral boards in our lives and straighten them up.  I’m inclined to think that I don’t even want to be up on the scaffolding, but perhaps to walk on the ground, a nice firm place.  Just because we aren’t in the air, doesn’t mean it’s boring.  It can be jazzy, graceful, and full of skips, hops and jumps. We see a lot of people skirting danger and curving life’s inappropriate positions back and forth.  As they say, “what goes up, must come down.

Apr
25
2010
Uncategorized By Kristen Palser | 7 comments

Are you Fully Vested?

his bag of money was ... About the the time you’ve worked five years for a company, you are “fully vested” in their retirement program.  All the money you’ve taken out of your pre-tax dollars from your paycheck and been putting into a separate account, they’ve been matching.  Now that you’ve hit that magic five year mark, you can actually access the money the company has put in.  They want to make sure you are really worth it; that you are going to stick around; that you are “fully vested” in the company’s interests.  With the economy the way it is, we can use every penny we can get towards our retirement income.  We can’t count on social security.  So, if someone else is going to give me money, “Bring it on!”  But they want to know that I’m going to stick around.  They want me to be “vested” with them.  It’s a give and take world.  They aren’t just going to give me that money because I look good, even though I think I do.

But what about God’s Kingdom, are you fully vested there?  Well, essentially, when you give your life to God, you have “vested” everything you have.  Right?  Or is that right?  This is the tricky part of discipleship that comes into play.  We come to God, knowing we are sinners and we are hurting inside and looking for a solution.  He meets us wherever we are at, and we thank-you Jesus that we do not have to become cookie-cutter Christians.  We know that if we “give it to God” that we are going to be saved and a better solution lies behind that door.  That is all true and correct and I thank God for that every single day.  Can I get a witness?!

However, we don’t leave all things at the cross.  Most people call that process I described, “giving their life to God.”  That would leave me to believe they gave it all to God.  If it were only that simple.  God has a plan for us.  “ For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you…..”  That sounds wonderful to me.  Sign me up.  But I have been there, walking back to the cross.  Picking something back up, because I think I can do a better job?  Why would I do that?  He’s the better “investor”  But that’s right.  I have the better track record…”not”.

In the real world, we go to financial planners.  We read about money and stocks and bonds.  We do what they say, so when it comes to the end, we can have a nice retirement. We protect our investment.  We put it in a bank.  We even spread it out, so it’s not all in one spot to make it less risky. Diversify.

So in the spiritual world, we go to church, we listen to preachers and teachers, we read the bible, we pray….then I do what I want?  I suppose I have that right, but am I just stupid?  The bible says sin is crouching at the door and is eager to devour me…Hmm.  That sounds dangerous.  If something were at my door in real life, like a robber, I would not only get a security system, I might get a gun, shoot him and then call the cops.  But what do I do now? I hem haw, and eventually think I might have to deal with that sin in my life.  I’m not protecting my investment like I would protect my own money.  What am I thinking?  The Kingdom of God is worth more than Gold, and I have an unlocked door that the robber can stare right into?  Please.  I wouldn’t do that with my most prized possession.  I hide that baby under lock and key.

God says he will give us the desires of our heart.  So, I still want to go back and sometimes take things from the base of the cross.  And oh, I see other familiar faces there.  People, we have got to stop.  God has the best retirement plan there is.  We need to take that leap of faith and say, “If we are going to go, we are going to go big.”  I’m not saying to through caution to the wind, because our God is a wise God.  I’m saying, put all your trust in Him.  Fully vest in Him.  He was fully vested in you before you were born, he knew you then.

It seems so scary to think about giving up your own dreams and wishes, but He knows more than we know.  So GO BIG.  You can’t out “dream” God.  Get your retirement plan out of the toilet and put it back at the base of the cross.  Install a security system in your spiritual house, and get your weapons out and learn to use them.  And start vesting everyday in your spiritual retirement plan, just like you do for your savings plan and your financial security. Except, to do this is free.  Start today, you will never be sorry you did.

Apr
13
2010
Nursing By Kristen Palser | 2 comments

Who Is Your Neighbor?

With spring approaching, it is a grateful reprieve for those people who suffer from winter related depression.  They have held on to the very last straw until help arrived.  The sun has come out at last and they can put their sun lamps away.  They are a poor substitute for the real thing.  Out into the sun they go, to replenish their serotonin with great abandon and start filling up their energy levels in order to live a life like “normal” people do.  Unfortunately, normal is such a funny word these days.  Mental Illness strikes 1 in 5 Americans.  If you have a family, roll the dice and see where it falls.  Hopefully,  it’s not you.  The odds for adequate treatment don’t look so good.

Nationally there were 15 million Americans 18 or older who suffered from a severe mental illness in 2001.  It interfered with their lives to a degree where they could not function, and only 2 million of them actually sought help.  They gave reasons such as stigma, cost, having to take medicine and transportation.  But even looking at mental illness is tricky in itself.  It’s like looking through glasses made in the late 1800’s.  The lenses are warped.  People don’t often tell everything, because of the stigma.  No one wants to really admit they were sitting on the couch for three months smoking cigarettes and watching TV. soap operas because that’s all they could physically do because of their severe depression.  Admitting to a mental illness is one thing, but saying you didn’t shower for a whole month is another.

In the last two weeks, Nebraska just began busting a marijuana ring in Lincoln .  Eight houses have been found.  A report also came out about how “disappointing” Health and Human Services’ performance has been in fund dispersement and programming among the six Regions into their community mental health programs.  So, it looks like we are doing something according to the news.  But Nebraska typically performs poorly among mental health services provided nation wide.  We used to be ranked as 48th among the states for services.  That is in no way a reflection on the providers.  That is about the availability of programs and services.  We’ve moved up.  We are now number 36.  Respectably in the middle.  However, NAMI (National Alliance for the Mentally Ill), gave us a big fat “D” for consumer services.  That’s probably O.K., considering the whole nation got a “D”.  We face the same things the whole nation faces:  stigma, availability of services, community prevention, transportation, and family involvement.

However, there are some states, when thrown into the mix, that make things look a little different.  California , who served over a million people, got a “C”.  They can’t balance the budget, but they can keep their people happy.  We only served 60,000 and only mustered a paltry “D”.  We couldn’t pull it together for that?  If you move to South Dakota , you might be better off.  They got a “D”, too, but statistically, you are less likely to be depressed there.  It’s the half a dozen of one and six of another.  I knew a doctor who told me that if you lived in New Mexico you would be less depressed.  They had a naturally occurring salt in the water that was the same as the salt that Valproic Acid was based on.  It is commonly known as the drug Depakote used to treat Bipolar Depression.  He said people were “statistically” less depressed there.  Who knows, they also get more sun there, too.

In a perfect world no one would have to feel the pain of walking around feeling dead but alive while suffering from depression.  No one would loose the ability to think logically and put sentences together withschizophrenia, literally losing their mind.  People feeling the rejection of their loved ones, neighbors, and people on the street from their behavior.  Everyone would be able to control their impulses to drink or use substances.  But we do not live in that world and we can’t treat everyone and not everyone even wants to be treated.  Not everyone even wants to hear about this subject.

Instead, we have people in the trenches working very hard with very little funding and in poor conditions.  Working in the mental health field is not a “get rich quick” scheme. The state hospitals have cement floors and walls.  There is no carpet or wall paper like there is for the cancer treatment centers.  The patients don’t get Crest toothpaste when they forget their own.  They get a poor generic substitute that might cost twelve cents.  They have bolted down beds with four inch plastic mattresses and non-electric beds.  They get one plastic pillow and no hospital socks.  I like the hospital socks.  I’ve kept a pair from each of my surgeries.  In fact, after one of my surgeries, I gave a patient an extra mattress.  My boss asked me if I felt O.K.  I told him that I realized how tough it was to be a patient, and that maybe he deserved to have eight inches of mattress.  Maybe his back did hurt after sleeping on it for six months, even if I did want to tell him it was his own fault for being in jail for two of those months.  My staff had to provide their own pens.  We would tape our names on them and if someone asked to “borrow” them, we would stand over them and wait until they were done writing with them to take them back.  We didn’t believe in the concept of borrowing.  Pens were at a high commodity.  Funds were not allocated for that.  They were saved for mattresses and medications.

I had a systemic shock when I came out of the state mental health system and into the private business sector.  There was carpet on the floor, unlocked doors, and heated rooms.  But more intense than that was family involvement.  Mothers and sisters were there.  I fondly remember the Christmas program were the patients prepared songs and poems for the staff.  I was one of the judges.  All the families were invited.  Out of fourty some families, only two showed up.  As a college teacher, I had told my students that in the 1800’s people would print death notices when they would commit a relative to a mental institution and then they would never let that person out.  Even if that person got better.  They would leave them there to die.  So strong was the stigma back then.  Watching that Christmas program broke my heart just a little and made me wonder if time had reversed itself.

Mental illness is all around us and it is nothing to be afraid of or to mock.  It is also something that can be treated and you can have hope for.  We as neighbors and friends need to be there for each other.  With a lack of funding and programming, it is vital that we pick up the slack until things improve.  One of the biggest recommendations that came out was to incorporate exercise into the programming.  It serves to act as an additional medication almost.  Take your friend for a walk in the sun.  Make it a triple whammy:  exercise, sunshine and friendship.  The suffering is so great, but can be diminished with a little effort.  However, this is often a time when people cannot help themselves.  So, this is when we ask ourselves…who is your neighbor.

Mar
20
2010
Uncategorized By Kristen Palser | 2 comments

Make Your Own Bed

Rialle Hunter has come forth with her affair with John Edwards, the Presidential candidate.  It is something so intimate, that itinstinctively makes us cringe and look away.  But as with most crashing trains, we as the American public continue to look.  To add insult to injury is the fact, that he was married at the time to someone who was battling cancer.  Out of their union, a child was born.

Now two years later, Hunter is on the cover of GQ.  There are several pictures of her.  She feels it is her turn to tell the story.  Somehow, she feels, she needs to vindicate herself.  I don’t really understand how she can paint herself in a different light.  The facts remain the same.  They slept together.  They had a child.  He got divorced and he didn’t become president.  But, to each their own 15 minutes of fame.  That seems to have become every American’s right these days.  I guess we should make that part of the constitution.  It might pass easier than the Health Care bill.

All of this might seem appalling in and of itself on a number of levels which I will not even address.  What I find most grievous, are the pictures that Ms. Hunter decided to put in GQ.  While she says she simply, “went with the flow” of the shoot, I think she is a smart enough lady to have had some say over what was going on.

For instance, there is one picture where she is laying on a bed, her midrif is showing and she is holding her 2 year old daughter.  I think she had control over that.  Is she saying in that picture, “Yes, we really did sleep together, here is the proof.” ? I don’t need to see the child to believe her.  I also think the child doesn’t need to be exposed like that.  I don’t think it’s sexy to put the child on top of her, while she is a semi-cone-hither pose.

And what about her dressed only in a man’s business shirt sitting in a bed next to a bunch of stuffed animals?  Do we associate sexy women with children’s toys?  I surely hope not.  We’re crossing some lines that best be kept seperate.  Perhaps I find that particulary offensive because she is right next to Kermit the Frog.  I remember him singing , “It’s not easy being green.”  I cannot quite put my finger on why that picture repulses me the most.  Is it perhaps that I feel like she is using stuffed animals to try and clean up her image?  I, personally, don’t think you recover from a scandal like that with Kermit and Miss Piggy.  They stand above reproach in a way.  Don’t ask them to do your dirty work.  Do it on your own.  You made your bed, and Kermit wasn’t in it.

Mar
4
2010
Uncategorized By Kristen Palser | 1 comment

Over Coming

Sharon EdgeShe made ten calls to 911 and they still did not come to the apartment to help the man.  He died.  It is hard to imagine that such a thing would happen today.  On February 6th in Pittsburgh, that very thing happened.  It was the middle of a snow storm, and a man was having terrible stomach pain.  His fiancé continued to call, and the ambulances got as close as 400 meters twice.  They told the man to get out and walk in the snow to the ambulance.  The paramedics did not offer to walk and get him.  The last call she made, she said she thought he was dead.

It is so hard for me to believe that such a thing could happen today.  We live in a modern society with efficient service.  Even in the middle of Mother Nature’s havoc, we seem to think we can overcome.  We are a nation of over comers.   That’s what we do.  We go to other countries and over come for them.  For example, we invaded Iraq and took down that statue.  Who can forget the three Marine’s tackling the statue of Saddam and everyone cheering.  That is over coming at its best, even if it was a little bit culturally insensitive.

To look at that in comparison to not getting a man out of his house in a snow storm and letting him die seems outrageous, poorly planned, and careless, not to mention insensitive.  The story said that the woman on the phone was continually polite.  Does that mean that we need to be irate to get the job done?  Do we need to kick it up a few notches and bring out our nasty selves to get things done?  Is that how we communicate the seriousness of the situation?  Perhaps it really is true that the squeaky wheel gets, in this case, the attention.

There is no good ending to this story.  The 911 system of Pittsburgh will be examined and overhauled, and people will be reprimanded and punished.  But a man died.  It won’t take that away.  Our selfishness, carelessness, and human nature by making simple mistakes made this happen.  We are responsible.  Inside, it makes me feel sad.

It might make you feel outraged or other feeling will arise.  But the real truth is this…people die every day.  There are things we can all do in our own communities, and still there are things that we cannot stop.  How far will you look and what you will do is up to you.  I would hope that none of us will turn away completely, but will take one moment to make one person’s life a little better.  I really want to be an over comer.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/35631879/ns/us_news-life//

Feb
28
2010
Uncategorized By Kristen Palser | 4 comments

Will You Tackle or Will You Dance?

This week we had two very different stories about teachers.  There was a school shooting in Littleton, Colorado.  The shooter came onto the campus and shot two students.  Before another round could be shot, one of the teachers tackled the shooter, taking him to the ground.  When I read that, it brought tears to my eyes.

There was a second story in the news about teachers.  In Winnepeg, Canada there was a dance-off among the teachers in the school gymnasium.  Two of the teachers did a lap dance, which even included putting fake money in the waist band of the dancer.  My mouth dropped as I stared in amazement.

These are two completely different stories.  Both are teachers displaying completely different characteristics.  They are not events that they were trained for in school, but are moral attitudes being displayed.

As individuals in our jobs we are ever present in showing our character and moral aptitude.  Our propensity towards honesty, integrity, truth and justice is shown whether we believe it is being done or not.  It can be in the slightest of thing.  Do we leave 3-5 minutes early?  Are we pleasant with our co-workers or do we talk about them behind their backs?  Do we do our jobs as well in private as we do in front of our bosses?

We think these things are not seen and not heard.  But they are.  There are always eyes watching us.  It is our customers and our co-workers.  It is up to us to decide if we are going to give a lap-dance or tackle the shooter.

Feb
15
2010
Uncategorized By Kristen Palser | 20 comments

Criminology 101

In the past few weeks we’ve had break-ins at the local Safeway.  But it hasn’t been your typical robbery.  They have gone straight for the pharmacy and stolen drugs.  Very interesting, you might think.  Very smart, I say.

Instead of just stealing cash out of the drawer and getting maybe $200, they are stealing pharmaceuticals.  This is very smart.  You get just about the same sentence, or punishment, for either crime.  However, your return on the investment for the two crimes is very different.  If you get $200 dollars cash, that’s all you get.  If you get $200 worth of drugs, you can turn that around for a profit on the street for an unknown amount of perhaps $1,000 or even greater.  It all depends on what you sold.  If you were prepared, it could be even greater, depending on where and to whom you sold it to.

Pharmaceuticals are in very high demand.  People are addicted to pain killers, drugs used for Attention Deficit Disorder, and even inhalers can be bought.  People will even buy an anti-biotic if they think they can get it cheaper than going to the doctor.  However, at a gas station lot frequented by truckers, that would be your biggest opportunity.  So, with careful planning, your 15 minute break-in, could really be a money maker.  It all comes down to a job well-done.  It’s the quality that counts, so to say, a better class of criminal in the making.

If you turn the coin to the other side, and think about doing good.  What are we doing when we serve the Lord?  Are we investing for a $200 return, or are we thinking ahead and trying to give our best?  We have all heard sermons about giving all we have, but how much have we thought this out.

Both criminals in the story above are risking losing something by doing the crime.  They risk going to jail.  That means missing T.V. shows, missing birthday parties, not seeing the Olympics, not having 20 pairs of shoes in the closet, and the list goes on.  What are we risking when we serve the Lord?  We might miss the same things, initially.  But we get to go to Heaven in the end.  Big bonus for us, I would think.   And when the criminal does a good job, a better quality job, what does he gain?  He gains a lot more money on his activity.  More money for less work always sounds good to me.

For the Christian, we still have to work, but the Kingdom benefits.  We get our reward in heaven.  So we do get “paid” in a sense.  But God has our backs, don’t worry.  He is always with us, and He grants us the desires of our hearts.  I think that’s a big reward.  Wow, who doesn’t want that one?  So, why aren’t we giving it all we’ve got?  Why are we not trying to be the better, smarter criminal, I mean Christian? Do we really like the things of the world that much, that we are unwilling to sacrifice to take the time to be the quality job it takes? A criminal will take a large amount of time to plan and get that $200 dollars and we will only give one hour a week.  “Who are we really”, I ask this of myself.  Sign me up for “Criminalogy 101” please.  I have some catching up to do.  My priorities are not in the right place.

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