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Pardon me while I rant incessantly: Ranting incessantly

I’m back!

So, maybe you’ve noticed (or not) that I haven’t posted anything here for…awhile.

Okay, it’s been a REALLY LONG TIME. But I have a good excuse, and not just my devastating laziness.

As the title of this post and many previous posts with similar titles would indicate, I like to rant incessantly.

You could even say it’s my jam, if you’re inclined to quote obscure movie lines (which I am).
But why should I bitch and complain ad nauseam about everything when everyone else seems to be doing the same 24/7 via social media? In the current environment, I’m just another voice in the vast sea of complainers.

That’s why I stopped.

Because once everyone starts doing something, it loses its appeal.

Katdish: trendsetter.

Instead, I’ve decided to NOT watch the news, limit my time on Facebook and Twitter and re-immerse myself back into the non-virtual world.

Here are some of the things I’ve been doing this month while not watching/stressing/posting/tweeting/arguing about the news:

  1. I made this wreath: 
  2. and this one: 
  3. and whatever this is (It should be noted that I don’t even like Valentines Day. I just wanted to get my craft on): 
  4. I cleaned out the garage. Did you know that you can take old paint, motor oil, antifreeze and other stuff you’re not supposed to put out with the rest of your garbage to sites that will dispose of them properly? Did you also know that it is impossible to throw away old garbage cans? Even if you spray paint in both English and Spanish on said garbage cans that they are trash and to please take them? Personally, I think the garbage man knows full well that you’re trying to throw away your garbage cans and he’s just messing with you by not taking them. Can’t say that I blame him. How many perks do you really get as a garbage man? But I digress…
  5. I started recycling. We don’t have curb pick up in our neighborhood, which is why I have been reluctant (read: too lazy) to recycle, but the junior high where our church meets on Sunday mornings has recycling bins that help raise money for the school: Win/win/win. 
  6. I discovered (and rediscovered) some great music on demand thanks to Alexa. Oh, sure, she’s listening to every word you say and is probably spying on your family for the government, but she’s got a great playlist… 
  7. Read a great devotional collection by Ed Blonski,  In My Father’s Footsteps: short but powerful, easily relatable stories that have helped me reconnect with God and His people.                                                    (Click on the title and go buy it from Amazon.) 
  8. I spruced up my front porch with this new planter 
  9. and my back porch with this old one 
  10. I discovered that’s there is more than one way to recycle empty soda bottles. You can use them for drainage in oversized pots in lieu of rocks and save a few bucks and your back when it comes time for moving it. 
  11. I battled and defeated a monster sago palm and relocated some of her “pups”. 
  12. Organized my pantry 
  13. Spent WAY too much time on Pinterest browsing ways to organize on the cheap. (Why, yes. Those ARE Diet Coke fridge packs covered in Contact paper. Thanks for asking.)
  14. Organized the space under the kitchen sink, and then cleaned the cabinets after looking at this picture.
  15. Got back into the habit of reading books without backlighting or buttons. 
  16. Made some “glitter” or “mindfulness” jars–two as gifts as one for myself. Here’s the premise behind the jars: You shake them up when you’re feeling overwhelmed or stressed, breathe deeply and sit still until all the glitter has floated to the bottom of the jar. Now, if you know me, you know I don’t buy into any of that New Age, crystal-gripping hippie crap, but it does force you to slow down and clear your head a bit. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it! You can find instructions for how to make your own on (what else) Pinterest. 
  17. I spent some quality “me” time on the back porch bird and squirrel watching. I also chased off a rather large brown hawk by buzzing it with a golf ball. Don’t worry, I didn’t hurt him. I just fluffed his feathers a little. He can take his circle of life to someone else’s back yard. 
  18. I started using a Panda Planner. I’ve always avoided planners because I find the way they’re set up with schedules and goals and whatnot very confining and not conducive to my willy-nilly way of organizing my tasks and thoughts, but then I remembered that I’m in charge. I just jot stuff down the way that works for me. Also? It has coloring pages! 
  19. This one’s a biggie: I started praying about things I felt powerless to change instead of worrying, fretting and complaining about them. It’s not even about whether my prayers have been answered, but more about acknowledging that I don’t have to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. I talk it out with God and then I let it go. That is, until I don’t. Then I simply repeat the process. It’s like the glitter jar–don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.
  20. I wrote this blog post as a means to sharing what I’ve discovered and rediscovered by allowing myself to be unplugged for long stretches of time in the hopes that you might be inspired to do the same.

Sorry/you’re welcome

and thanks for stopping by my little corner of the inter webs.


Editorial Note: This post isn’t meant to open a dialogue about all the heinous and maddening things that have been happening, nor should anyone infer by my lack of public outrage that I’m somehow no longer outraged. I am.

I have just come to realize that all my impassioned pleading changed not one heart or mind. So I’m trying to focus on my ACTUAL sphere of influence and celebrate those things that bring us together instead of all the things that tear us apart.

Who’s the real bully here?

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Apparently, this PSA has been out since 2008, but I saw it for the first time yesterday:

This post is not meant to be a moral debate about homosexuality. I’m young enough to understand that the word “gay” bears no resemblance to its original definition: Showing or characterized by cheerfulness and lighthearted excitement; merry; bright or lively, especially in color: a gay, sunny room. I’m okay with that.

I’m also okay (mostly) with the fact that the favorite drawing subject of almost every young child with a new box of crayons–a rainbow–is now the symbol for an entire movement of alternative lifestyle. A rainbow is still a rainbow, even though now a new meaning has been attached to it.

I agree with what Wanda Sykes says at the beginning of the ad. The word “gay” should not be used as a derogatory term meant to insult an entire group of people.

But she loses me at the end with the line: “It’s like if I thought this pepper shaker was stupid and I said, ‘Man, this pepper shaker is so 16-year old boy with a cheesy moustache'”.

With that 30 second ad, she manages to sum up my disdain for the entire political correctness movement. If you question or disagree with a political or moral opinion, you’re a hate monger and therefore free game for vicious personal attack.

There’s no such thing as tolerance unless you agree with what they stand for.

Which is pretty much the definition of intolerance.

We’re never going to get anywhere but further apart if we continue to view people with different views as somehow less human than we are–and I’m talking to both sides of any controversial topic.

As Wanda Sykes is fond of saying, “It’s a crazy world.”

The McRib Effect

Every year, McDonald’s offers the McRib sandwich for a limited time. This is a brilliant marketing strategy in my opinion because every few years, I will invariably order one even though I’ve eaten them in the past and thought they were disgusting. I begin to doubt my own assertions, my own taste buds. I even begin to question why I would have renamed this sandwich “The McPig Knuckle”. Why?

Because they’re bringing it back, people! By popular demand!

The McRib effect is when you know better from past experience. You simply need to convince yourself that it really was as bad as you remembered the first time.

I know better now. I’ve never really been one to jump on the bandwagon of anything just because it’s popular. However, I often do follow the recommendations of people whose opinions have proved reliable in the past. So when my Twitter friend Tony Alicea tweeted the following, I was intrigued:

So I watched the trailer:

And since all I had planned for Tuesday afternoon was laundry, and it was available via live streaming from Netflix, I decided I would indulge myself and watch it.

After the first five minutes, I was confused. After the first 20 minutes, I was in awe. Literally, in awe. At how BAD this movie was.

Like the McRib phenomenon, I began to question my ability to understand and/or appreciate what “good” is. I thought to myself, “Surely this movie gets better. What am I missing?” Then later, “This movie is incredibly awful on so many levels. Might be one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen Howard the Duck.” By the end of the movie, I was laughing. And not because anything in the movie is remotely funny. I was laughing at the sheer absurdity of the acting, the writing, the storyline and the cinematography. The only thing that could have saved this movie for me was if Tim Curry had come out in drag and lead the cast in a rousing rendition of “The Time Warp”, thereby letting us all know that the entire thing was supposed to be blatantly pretentious, sophomoric and cheesy.

On second thought, probably not even then.

Still astonished that anyone could actually like this movie, I googled “Ink movie reviews”. That’s when I REALLY became confused. At, I found outrageous, glowing reviews for this movie. Ten stars out of ten. Many of them reading much like this one:

This is one of the greats of cinema – rich, vivid storytelling, a journey deep into the imagination with simple but powerful cinematography. Intelligent, affecting, and thought-provoking. Most importantly, Ink is a parable for our time – a time in which we have lost sight completely of what’s important in life. As far as comparables – this movie is reminiscent of Pan’s Labyrinth. It is perfectly cast, carrying it’s weight through the story not the lightweight effects, and leaving you with strong after-thoughts. If you feel like letting go for 107 minutes and allowing this excellent piece of fantasy to carry you along, it won’t disappoint. No review I can write could do it justice.

I searched and searched for a bad review, but after 5 minutes, I couldn’t find one. I finally did a search within the reviews for “Hated It” and found common ground. People as astonished as I was that this movie was given such glowing reviews, most of them surmising that the creators of the movie had launched a behemoth positive spin campaign using review sites to get people to watch this stinker of a movie.

The title lines for these bad reviews restored my faith in honest movie reviews. Lines like “Good grief”, “Stunningly awful” and “One of the worst movies I’ve ever seen”. One reviewer suggested, “This film is the celluloid equivalent of the emperors new clothes. I watched it because of the buzz associated with it and its high rating on IMDb. It is without doubt one of the most pretentious , tedious pieces of film making it has ever been my misfortune to witness.”

And that’s exactly what I felt like I was witnessing: People wanting to like the movie so much that they convinced themselves it was good. That the emperor wasn’t standing there looking ridiculous and butt nekkid.

Reviewer tomodlin from the UK sums up the bad reviews nicely:

Pretentious Nonsense, 17 November 2009

Author: tomodlin from United Kingdom
I have trusted the rating system on IMDb for years, though I’ve never bothered to register before.

I do so today only to balance out the ridiculous reviews for this horse muck of a movie.

It’s terrible! There is literally nothing good to say about it. I duly stuck with it after the first 20 mins (as advised on other reviews). I’m not sure what they all think happened after 20 minutes, but whatever it is, I didn’t see it.

Ink is so bad, I felt the need to register to moan about it.

Don’t watch it. It’s just not worth it. Do some washing and watch the machine for a couple of hours. You’ll have more fun and the plot will be better.

The other reviewers must, must, must be part of some campaign to get this recognised. I’ve seen more entertaining stains in my bathroom.

I would happily sit and extract my own toenails with a taser rather than watch this again.

Seriously, I’m dead on the inside. I just want to adopt the fetal position and cry for my mummy.

I like Tony and respect and agree with many of his opinions. This just isn’t one of them. And that’s okay. We are all wired differently. It’s okay to agree to disagree.

Have you ever fallen victim to the McRib effect with movies, shows, books or artwork? Thinking that you have surely missed something everyone finds obvious?

And if you’ve seen this movie, I’d love to hear your thoughts on it.

I’ll be here.

Quietly judging you.

Editor’s Note: This film was originally released in 2009. Had it been a new release, I probably would have suffered in silence. But something about all of those glowing, and in my estimation, highly inflated (Read: Mostly fake) reviews just stuck in my craw. Because suffering through that movie is 107 minutes of my life that I’ll never get back.

The proper care and feeding of elephants, Part 3

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Anniversary Gifts

She wanted a new mixer for their anniversary. Not the most romantic of gifts, but all the chefs on her favorite cooking shows have this mixer. She imagines all the wonderful cakes, cookies and pastries she could create if only she had the same mixer all the professionals use. Maybe start a business selling her creations. She’s been making baked goods for family and friends for years, but has always laughed off their suggestions that she should go into business for herself. “Taking care of my family is my business and it’s a full time job”, she tells everyone. But she dreams of doing what she tells everyone she doesn’t have time for, and she knows her husband understands this dream. They’ve never talked about it, but he knows how much she loves to bake; he’s aware of how many cooking shows are recorded on their DVR. He must. He complains about it constantly.

Instead of a mixer, her husband presents her with a canvas he’s painted–a portrait of her and their kids inspired by a photo he snapped at the Grand Canyon last summer. She tells him she loves it, how touched she is by such a thoughtful, personal gift. But she doesn’t love it. Painting is his hobby, not hers. If he’d thought of her instead of himself, he would have realized that she had her own dreams. None of which had anything to do with painting.

He wanted an easel and a new set of artist brushes for their anniversary. He works at the bank 40 hours a week, but only because he has a family to support. His wife often suggests that with his degree in fine art, perhaps the bank president would let him paint some canvases to replace the tacky reproductions currently hanging in the bank lobby. The first time she suggested it, he was excited about the possibility. It was only after he overheard his wife’s phone conversation with her sister that he realized she was being sarcastic. That she didn’t really think his art was good enough to hang in a small town bank lobby, let alone in any art gallery. Now when she makes that suggestion, he laughs and nods his head.  But it hurts just the same.

Instead of an easel and artist brushes, his wife gave him a new suit and tie. Dress for success she’d always heard. Besides, the senior loan officer at the bank was about to retire, and a promotion for her husband was a real possibility. Maybe being in a management position would make him happier at his job. Maybe even enough for him to put away his art supplies so they could reclaim the guest room back from his ever growing hobby. He tells her he loves it. She has the best taste in clothes, and he’s so grateful to have a wife who supports his career.

He spends the rest of the day painting dark clouds over the valley in his latest landscape.

And the elephants feed and grow.

image courtesy of

Editor’s Note: If this is the first post you’ve read in this series, you may want to check out The proper care and feeding of elephants, Part 1 for further explanation.

The Get a Job song

The year was 1986. Twenty year old me was very much attuned to the music of the day: from Heart to Huey Lewis and the News, Stevie Nicks to Little Stevie Windwood. I was down with Peter Gabriel, INXS, The Dire Straights, Van Halen, Human League, ZZ Top, Sade, Bon Jovi, Level 42, Madonna, Prince and yes–even Scritti Politti. I’ve always had a rather diverse taste in music. Still do.

Whenever someone would ask “Have you heard that new song by so-and-so?” Typically, I had. If it was on the radio, MTV or VH1, it was a pretty safe bet I’d heard it. (Remember when they actually played videos on MTV and VH1? Ah, good times…) Even if you didn’t know who the artist was or the name of the song, all I really needed was for you to sing a few bars, and I would know which song you were talking about and who sang it.

Which is why I was completely perplexed by my friend Kim one day. We were sitting in her apartment talking when she asked me if I’d heard this new song. “I know you’ve heard it”, she said. “They play it on the radio all the time.”

“How does it go?” I asked her.

Get a job…”, she sings.


“That’s all I can remember, but I KNOW you know this song. Get a job…”

At this point, I’ve move past being perplexed. I’m simply laughing at her.

“Are you sure those are the words? Get a job?” I ask her.

“Yes! You’ve heard it! I know you have! Get a job…”

“Um…yeah. Have you been drinking? I don’t know the Get a Job song.”

The funny thing is, I did know the Get a Job song. And when the Get a Job song came on my car radio while driving home from her place, I had to pull over because I was laughing so hard.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Get a Job Song:

Also known in some circles as “The Way It Is”, it was the first hit for Bruce Hornsby and the Range.

I found it funny that Kim would remember that one line in the song, because it only appears in the first verse. Not in the chorus, not in the bridge. Just the last line of the first verse. Had she sung, “That’s just the way it is”, I would have known what she was talking about immediately, because duh, that’s the name of the song and the first line of the chorus. It’s part of the central message of the song:

That’s just the way it is
Some things’ll never change
That’s just the way it is
Ha, but don’t you believe them

Why would she remember that one line? Who knows? Maybe she had been drinking. Maybe she remembered it because in the context of the song, the line was pretty outrageous: “The man in a silk suit hurries by, as he catches the poor old lady’s eye, just for fun he says Get a job.” I won’t argue that the line is a powerful one. It helps set up the central message of the song, even though when I heard it out of context it made absolutely no sense at all.

Is there a point to this walk down memory lane? Actually, yes.

If you’re going to argue what the central message of a song is, it’s probably best you know the song yourself in the first place, instead of hearing it second hand and assuming your source of information is correct.

And if you don’t know the entire song, you should at least know the chorus.

A final charge to Timothy from the Apostle Paul:

You, however, know all about my teaching, my way of life, my purpose, faith, patience, love, endurance, persecutions, sufferings—what kinds of things happened to me in Antioch, Iconium and Lystra, the persecutions I endured. Yet the Lord rescued me from all of them. In fact, everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while evildoers and impostors will go from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived. But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, and how from infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work. ~ 2 Timothy 3:10-17

And that’s all I have to say about that.

The obligatory Rob Bell post

I’m pretty opinionated here. Which is why I’m always a little surprised I don’t get negative comments. I mean almost never. In fact, the only truly angry comment I’ve ever received was for this post way back in May of 2008:

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Is it just me, or does watching a Rob Bell video remind anyone else of “The Chris Farley Show” of SNL fame? Here’s what I mean:

Do you remember the story,

when Jesus walks up to those dudes,

and says,

“Follow me,

and I will make you fishers of men?”

and then,

the dudes, like

drop their nets,

and follow Him?…

That was awesome!

Now before anyone shoots me a comment about how Rob Bell is just the coolest, most relevant dude of the 21st century, and shame on me for making fun of him, I’m not dissing the message, just the delivery. I only say this because I once shared this observation with a youth pastor friend of mine and he looked at me like I had just said, “Jesus sucks!” And let’s be honest…he does kinda talk like that! Thoughts?

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Even though I made a disclaimer that I was not dissing Rob Bell’s message, I still got the following comment from your friend and mine, Anonymous:

How can you crack a joke on Rob’s excellent video series if you’ve never even met him or even watched any of them? Maybe you were just having a little fun, but it defies all logic and makes you look like a ignorant babbling fool! I need to get back to my Nooma videos, you know, something that will actually add value in my life!

The ironic thing is, I expected a comment like that. Because some fans of Rob Bell are so completely, rabidly devoted to him that they go around looking to defend him from any and all detractors. At the other end of the spectrum, you have people who believe Rob Bell is the anti-Christ and a heretic leading countless followers to the fiery pits of hell.

And speaking of hell… (Excellent segue, katdish)

Rob Bell has a book coming out on March 29 entitled Love Wins which is causing quite a firestorm. Here’s a video trailer for said book:

“Millions and millions of people were taught that the primary message, the center of the gospel of Jesus is that God is going to send you to hell unless you believe in Jesus. So what gets subtly taught sort of caught and taught is that Jesus rescues you from God. But what kind of God is that? That we would be rescued from this God? How could that God ever be good? How can that God ever be trusted? And how could that ever be good news?” – Rob Bell

Predictably, many in the Christian community were quick to challenge Bell’s (presumed) declaration that a loving God would not send people to hell. Justin Taylor penned a blog post entitled Rob Bell: Universalist?, which John Piper tweeted prefaced by the words: “Farewell, Rob Bell”. It pretty much snowballed on twitter and Christian blogs after that point.

I’m not going to defend either side of the argument here. Do I believe there’s an actual, physical hell? Yes, I do. Do I think the entirety of Rob Bell’s teachings should be dismissed because I happen to disagree with him about certain interpretations of scripture? No, I don’t believe that either. Because this is what I know to be true:

Rob Bell is not

Justin Taylor is not

John Piper is not

Francis Chan, Erwin McManus, Pete Wilson, Vince Antonucci, Alan Hirsch, Matt Chandler, Matt Smay, Neil Cole,Tim Keller, Mark Batterson, Brennan Manning, Donald Miller, Mark Driscoll, Ed Stetzer, Andy Stanley, Charles Stanley, Rick Warren, Billy Graham, Franklin Graham, Lee Strobel, Joel Osteen, T. D. Jakes, John Calvin, Oswald Chambers, Martin Luther, C. S. Lewis…

are NOT

Jesus Christ

And their books and writings may inspire you or enrage you. They may cause you to question your faith or confirm what you’ve always believed to be the Truth, but they

are NOT

The Word of God

The Bible is.

And you have the same access to it as anyone else.

Equip yourselves to defend

The Gospel of Christ


“The only thing worse than the joke you don’t get is the explanation that is bound to follow: an explanation that, while it may help you see why you should have seen the humor that you so lamely missed, is little likely to make you laugh. It may provoke you to muster a sympathy snicker so as to avoid more of an already tedious and misdirected lecture. It may inspire a mild giggle of recognition, but it will hardly ever raise a real belly-laugh, which was the original desired effect. And so, here I go — me and a dozen thousand other people — trying to explain a joke that we would do better to learn to better tell. I am setting out to explain again why Jesus is the only true hope for the world, why we should put faith in Him, and what all of that won’t mean. I am collecting the information, selecting from what I hope will be usable as evidence, arranging my findings into arguments, framing it for presentation and recognizing that, while it may be fine as far as it goes, it doesn’t go far enough…

So, here I offer what is possibly the worst thing that can be offered: an explanation of a joke. And, what makes this more inexcusable than the fact that this is that, is the added fact that this is an explanation of a joke you’ve already gotten. I offer it anyway. I offer it in the hope that it might somehow encourage you to live out your lives and, by your living, tell the joke that I, in my writing, so feebly attempt to explain.

Love one another, forgive one another, work as unto God, let the peace of Christ reign in your hearts. Make it your ambition to lead quiet lives. Obey. Greet one another with a holy kiss. No one will argue with that.”
~ Rich Mullins

Editor’s Note: In case anyone’s interested, I thought I would let you know that I belong to an independent, non-denominational Christian Church. If you’d like to know what we believe, you can find out at our website. I figured if this turned into a theology debate, you may as well know where I’m coming from. Not that I necessarily want this to turn into a theology debate, mind you. Just didn’t want y’all assuming I was a Baptist. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that…)

Pardon me while I rant incessantly: Chris Matthews

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Did you see this?

Let’s put aside for a moment that MSNBC dares to call itself a news station when they chose five liberals to cover a historic national election. Nevermind that they acted like a group of giggly school children instead of a seasoned, respected group of unbiased folks who are supposed to report the news. One could make the argument that Fox News Channel is dominated by conservative views and CNN is dominated by their liberal counterparts. But in defense of both networks, they had representatives from both the democratic and republican points of view. They differentiated between opinion and fact. Which is exactly what they should do.

I suppose NBC decided they had nothing to lose, since Comcast has bought the network and is fixing to clean house, but as annoying as all of this is to me, what really bothers me is the blatent disrespect Matthews has for anyone who doesn’t share his political views.

Regardless of his personal feelings for Congresswoman Bachmann, she is a seated member of the Congress of the United States of America. Furthermore, she is a human being. Whatever happened to good manners? Respect for the office? I don’t always agree with the decisions or even the rhetoric of elected officials on either side of the aisle, but that doesn’t give me permission to attempt to publicly humiliate those I don’t agree with. You can’t knowingly set out to steal someone else’s dignity without losing some of your own.

As to his denial of the “tingly leg” comment — He never said that, huh?

Okay, thrill…not tingle. I stand corrected. Yes, Mr. Matthews. You are completely objective.

I long for the days when rude behavior was frowned upon rather than celebrated…

“I hate rude behavior in a man. I won’t tolerate it.”
~ Gus McCrae, Lonesome Dove

Car Wash Confessional

My car is really dirty right now I suppose as a result of weeks of on-again-off-again rain coupled with my propensity towards procrastination. I’m not a stickler for a spotlessly clean car. I’m not a stickler for a spotlessly clean anything – personal hygiene notwithstanding – I do shower and brush my teeth every day. But I digress…

By the time this post goes live, my car will have been washed. It’s past the point of acceptable filth, so tomorrow I will go to the car wash. Once my car is clean and I drive out of the parking lot and into the street, something will happen. I will begin to notice the cars that are not clean. From inside my newly clean vehicle, I will sit in judgment of those who dare drive around in a dirty car. Why do I do this? It’s horrible, I know. I try not to, but I do it anyway.

I think the reason I do this is for the same reason that, after quitting smoking I judged those who still smoked, and after I quit drinking I judged those who still drank. Because once my car is clean and my lungs no longer filled with smoke and my liver no longer in danger of cirrhosis, that somehow makes me feel superior.

I think on average, I do fairly well in the “not comparing myself to others” category. There are certain things I think I’m fairly good at, and other things I’m not so good at. I’m really okay with that. Mostly. And I don’t judge those who smoke and drink anymore. I have plenty of friends who do one or both, and I don’t like them any less, nor do I feel superior to them.

So what’s the deal with the clean car snobbery? I’m not certain, but I think it has to do with the fact that keeping my car clean is something I struggle with. With two kids, carpools, rainy weather, etc., my car seems to get dirty more often than I care to clean it. And when I do go to the trouble of getting it clean, I immediately begin to subconsciously wonder why others can’t. It’s the selfish and shameful part of me that wants to stand in judgment without having walked in mile in someone else’s shoes. It’s easy to do that from inside of your car. Easy to dehumanize a person from within a metal and glass box on wheels.

But then I sometimes find myself stepping out of my car and doing the same thing. Wondering why someone can’t seem to get it together, or control their kids at the mall, or keep from gossiping about others, or worrying about keeping up with the Joneses.

Which is weird, because those are all things I’ve struggled with.

Or maybe it’s not so weird after all.

Maybe God’s trying to tell me something.

As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure He is.