7 Quick Takes Friday #4

I cannot believe that it is Friday again already and time to contribute to the quick takes Friday meme hosted by Jennifer at Conversion Diary.

1. The most memorable day this week was clearly yesterday. One of those things happened to me that generally only appears on sitcoms. As a very fine, low-key day perked along, I received an e-note from one of the senior managers who had met with a junior manager who worked for him. He told me that after consultation with the junior manager, he had decided that we needed to wait two months to begin a major (and highly visible) project for which we had just received considerable funding. This was clearly a non-starter. I knew that the problem lay not with the senior manager who had just returned from vacation but from the stubborn junior manager incapable of prioritizing. Having had multiple frustrating conversations with her earlier in the week about her reluctance to take on this project, which fall squarely into her position duties, I had reached the limit of my patience with her. Furious, I dashed off a note to the senior manager stating that I knew that his words reflected the mindset of the junior manager who was a hindrance and not a help to the organization. I suggested that if she could not handle the due-outs from the project that I need early next week that I would do them and immediately after that find a replacement for her (and, oh, by the way, I was already looking for one). Done! Off with the note! I could then calm down. However, as I pushed the send button, I noticed that the senior manager had cc'd the junior manager on his note. Oops! Frantically, I tried to stop the note from flying out to their computers, but it merrily danced away from me. I tried to recall it. Failure! She read it before I could navigate to the tools menu! So, there not being much else to do at that point, I sent an e-wail to the senior manager to alert him to the possibility that she would soon descend upon him, which she did. My assistant was away on business but monitoring email and was cc'd on all the notes. He sent me a note: "Classic!" Right, classic! Oh, my, oh, my! The rest of the day found the junior manager closeted with the senior manager, fussing over the note and worrying about her job. I talked to him at 7:00 as he was dragging himself home from the office. "Hard day," was about all he could say. Right, hard day, indeed! My fault, too! I talked to Sr. Maria last night, noting that this was one action I had not prayed about in advance although every morning I ask God to guide me during the day even if I forget to turn any particular action over to Him. Sister had a surprising reaction. She said that perhaps I had been guided. Perhaps this employee needed to be hit on the head, given her general arrogance toward other employees, often expressed feeling of superiority, and overly secure confidence in her job. Perhaps Sister was correct. Today the junior manager got ALL those "impossible" due-outs done three days early! Life is curious and complicated sometimes! (Often, actually!)

2. Continuing the at-work discussion, a new senior manager who had recently moved back to the USA from Korea found that he had some interesting large Mexican figurines that he had no room for at home or work and wanted to give them to me. They make a great addition to my office. More important, though, I had to clear off the bottom shelf of my bookcase to hold them. The only useful thing on that shelf was a prayer rug I keep handy should someone need it. In cleaning off the rest of the shelf -- mostly binders with old documents -- I found that nothing was more recent than 2005 and were all things that my predecessor had left. Talk about procrastination! I had known for three years that I should clean up the shelf. Sigh! Where are those kids of mine who used to help with the housework when they are needed? I now know why the house was clean. The kids did it! Had it been up to me, we would probably have constantly been living under three years of dust!

3. It was great to return this past weekend from nearly three months of non-stop traveling. Many thanks to guest bloggers who helped me by filling in on Wednesdays. I hope you have enjoyed their posts. By the way, I am not home free yet. I returned to more than 1900 waiting emails at work, but I am now down to only 900 still to answer. Hey, it's progress!

4. When I got back from all the tripping, I found a very needy kitty at home. Murjan, our alpha cat from Jordan, is highly social, and he was fit-to-be tied that his "mother" had been away so long. He is more doglike than catlike, and I found him "yipping" at the window when I came up the stairs. Then, he started cussing me out in good Jordanian cat talk. (Middle Eastern cats have more than a dozen different kinds of meows, and one can figure out what they are "saying" with these sounds.) Then, he rolled over and wanted his belly scratched over and over again for a very long time. See, more dog than cat?

5. I no sooner got home than a friend, Rocio, sent me a note that she would be in town. She is another world traveler but generally lives in Boston. We planned to get together Saturday evening after settling in my 90-year-old friend who was moving back to town from Los Angeles and that was after spending four hours in the morning in a seminar for catechists that our diocese was holding. Quite a full day! It became fuller when Shane called me to remind me that I had promised to take Lemony out (with family) for her birthday that same evening -- so our evening with Rocio became Rocio + family. She was game, and Nathaniel entertained her as if she were royalty, devoting all his attention to her all evening. Flexibility! We learned that in the Middle East, too!

6. We turned in papers this week to take our previous landlady to court for failing to give us our security deposit back. Her excuse? She had spent it and had no income with which to replace it. For a couple of months, she sent us a few dollars at a time, but she still owes us $1800. I was going to forgive it, considering that she truly does not have money (is not employed) and that I got $1800 back about the same time the deposit was due from three years of overpaying electric bills (a new meter adjusted the past bills - not sure how that happened, but I don't look gift horses in the mouth; God often provides for me in this way, so why would I want to question?). However, Fr. Ed at our parish thought that was not a good idea, that it would be contributing to her dishonesty. She is a member of our church and has done the same thing with other tenants in the past, I have found out, and gotten away with it. So, it looks like I have to take a day off from work next month for small claims court. Oh, joy! (And I do feel a twinge of guilt because I can afford to give up the money, and she has little beyond her modest rental income. On the other hand, as Fr. Ed says ... )

7. And, before I make it to bed today, I have a pleasant translation task to complete. Padre Julio from Colombia sent me one of his periodic letters for sponsors of the children supported by Por Amor a Los Ninos de Colombia for translation from Spanish into English for those sponsors that speak no Spanish. I enjoy doing the translations because Padre writes very eloquently and the letters are always interesting in content, as well. The school he had wanted to build for the children is now operational, and the sustaining farm is getting there. It is a wonderful project to try to curb the misuse of children for insurgent activities in an area where there were no schools previously. For some uplifting information and to see what God can do through the efforts of a dedicated priest and his small coterie of helpers, take a look at his website.

End of tales, end of week. I hope yours was as interesting (well, maybe a little less interesting since I am still dealing with the fallout of yesterday's hasty note).

Robbed Again!

Padre Julio, about whom I have blogged previously, Skyped me from Colombia this morning. He had been robbed again -- the second time in three months that someone broke into his car and took everything. This time the thief took both Fr. Julio's personal computer and the computer that belongs to the organization he founded, Por Amor a Los Ninos de Colombia (For Love of the Children of Colombia). It had recently happened, and I guess when he Skpyed me, he was at an Internet cafe, trying to figure out his next step and wondering where and when the good from this would come about!

I suppose I am a fairly appropriate person with whom to share this kind of news. After all, in addition to my regular muggings, I have been robbed on a few occasions. The first time washed away any sentimental affiliation with things. We had moved from Montana to South Carolina, where I was undergoing my initial military training, and had then gone on to California, where I was to be permanently stationed. (Of course, in the military one must realize that a "permanent change of station" is anywhere in length from six months to three years -- so much for permanence.) While I was in South Carolina, we had left many of our possessions, including my wedding ring (long story), in storage in Montana. After the move to California, I asked for annual leave, and we made a difficult and long trip back to Montana through the snowed-in Sawtooth Mountains, over which we had to creep with our tires in chains, only to find out that everything had been stolen. There was absolutely nothing left. Bit by bit, we replaced everything, except the wedding ring. I do not wear one to this day, but most people know immediately that I am married. There have been other times, each with its own special characteristics, but the most recent was finding upon return from two years in Jordan that our RV, in which we had been living in an isolated area on a mountain river in rural California and which we had left in the possession of a neighbor, had been broken into and everything stolen, including the door from the refrigerator, the air conditioning (leaving a hole in the roof), and all the wiring. The neighbor, it turned out, was wanted for kidnapping (her own child, in a divorced situation) in Louisiana and had been forced to return there. And then there was the house that we lost. We had rented out our primary residence when we moved from Pennsylvania to Washington, DC years ago. For years, the tenants paid the rent, taking out any money they needed for repairs, and renting out a second apartment that was part of the house and keeping the rent in exchange for taking care of the property. It was a great arrangement until they suddenly went incommunicado and stopped paying rent. Our attorney learned that the father, the sole breadwinner, had lost his job and was on welfare but had not conveyed that to us (perhaps we could have worked something out). When the attorney told the tenants to pay the back taxes or leave, they left, taking everything they could, including things that belonged to us. Then, to make sure that there was nothing left, they took an axe and broke every window and chopped down all the stairs. Oh, well, it was only a house.

Any time I might consider that I have problems, I recall the life of my best friend from college. Coping with a bubble baby (no immune system) and a child recently diagnosed with diabetes, together with a husband dying from cancer for whom doctors held little hope, she locked her house and left for her home city where the doctors were better able to treat her husband and her mother could help with her two children. Six months later, she returned with her husband in remission, planning to continue on with her not-so-easy life and found her house ransacked. Nothing of any value, including sentimental value, had been left. (The whole story is rather long and has an amusing, well, at least, a lighter, outcome; I have posted it on Mahlou Musings.)

I think the moral to these stories is that life is too short and too complicated to worry about possessions. Possessions, in the long run, do not really matter. (I don't think that is just the Franciscan me speaking. I think it is really true.) In the long run, we may never recover our possessions, but, in my experience, God will somehow turn these experiences into something that is good or something that gives good: good from bad, the story of my life and of the lives of many people I know.

Our earthly goods may be taken from us, in my case over and over. But that is not important. Our soul cannot be taken from us; we have to give it away of our own free will. Our hope cannot be taken from us; we have to give up on our own for God will always hold out to us a branch of hope. Our happiness cannot be taken from us for while we may not be able to control what is done to us, we can control how we react to it (as the aphorism goes).

Sure, I have been robbed, but I choose to let those things go, forgotten in past days that I am not going to relive, anyway. I choose happiness. Always. My happiness does not lie in having good things. It does not even lie in having good news. Rather, my happiness lies in the fact that the universe is bigger than I, that God is greater than I, and that, as we are told, all things will work together for our good. That does not mean that my life has no sorrow. Certainly, it does. Considerably much of it, truth be told. However, sorrow does not preclude happiness, just as happiness does not preclude sorrow.

The robberies I experienced gave me a very different outlook on life -- a more positive one and one less burdened with the need for things (now I can use more of my money to help others because I no longer feel a need to "buy" fine surroundings). The robbery my friend experienced led her, too, through the intervention that she sought, to the ability to cope with three difficult medical situations, and today both children have outgrown their medical problems and are married adults with families and her husband is still in remission from cancer. Good in the long term is something to be anticipated for Padre Julio as well. In the short term, however, please pray for him and the children of Palomar.