Conflict

Conflict: (n) a serious disagreement or argument

When trying to rent an auditorium, I once had the proprietor of the theater say, “Hold on. We have a conflict.”

We were just discussing dates–but he was right. That is what a conflict should be.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

I want something. You can’t provide it.

You explain that to me, and we make other arrangements.

But Mr. Webster seems to think that for a conflict to be legitimate, there has to be a serious disagreement.

I, for one, am opposed to serious disagreements.

I am completely uninterested in adult conflict, which lends itself to arguments, pouting and grudges.

So today, I am determined to change the definition of the word “conflict” to a first-stage discussion which is elegantly handled by two or more mature, kindly, intelligent adult people.

Long before we become entrenched and start throwing grenades across the chasm, it is possible to say, “I think, on this point, we have a conflict. ”

Then conflict becomes valuable. It tells us that the circumstances we are pursuing are not suitable for everyone until they’re renegotiated.

It isn’t standing in the mud of a political party and insisting that if the other side doesn’t comply, they are either ignorant, or elitist.

We have a conflict. It is not insurmountable, unless we want to let that conflict lay around and become aggravated.

Let’s not do that.

Let’s immediately share when something is not to our taste, with the hopes that a simple conversation might render yet another possibility.

And may I say that often that third option is proven to be much better than either yours original, or mine.

 

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Chasm

Chasm: (n) a deep fissure in the earth, rock, or another surface

The three-step process is as follows:

  1. It’s a problem.
  2. It seems unfixable.
  3. Therefore it’s normal.

This is the present way our society handles difficulties. In doing this, we’ve opened the door of our home to many a stray racoon, thinking the creature is not that
different from our domesticated pets. When the racoon ends up being wild, untamed and unwilling to accept human domination of the household, we have to make a decision.

Do we shoo it out the door? Do we kill it? Or do we find a way to live in the home with a racoon, pretending we’re equals?

I know it sounds silly. Thus the point.

Nearly fifty years ago, our country was concerned about a generation gap–a chasm that existed between parents and teenagers, causing conflict and a lack of communication.

Move ahead fifty years and the same chasm still exists. We have just decided it’s normal. In deciding it’s normal, the racoon of rebellion wanders the hallways, throwing its attitude and therefore dominating the climate of our American Dream.

We defend the racoon by saying it has a right to free speech.

Or to own a gun.

Or to be anything it wants to be.

Or to interfere in the lives of others as long as it doesn’t totally destroy.

We’re afraid of chasms, but instead of admitting there’s a gap in understanding, we pretend it’s a cultural difference, an ethnic preference, a doctrinal dispute or a political stumping point.

Somewhere along the line we will have to agree on the three things that will allow the human race to survive:

  • Creativity
  • Tolerance
  • A challenge

We will have to stop being afraid of the chasm, and instead, be prepared to make some giant leaps for mankind.

 

 

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Acetabulum

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Acetabulum: (n.)  the socket of the hipbone, into which the head of the femur fits. SPECIAL USAGE: any cup-shaped structure, espcially a sucker.

Skeletons freak me out.

I think I talked about this a few days ago–the idea that we have an “inside” to our “outside” often leaves me beside myself.

Especially when you realize how we’re constructed both in a practical–but also in a weird way. This is never so true as when you look at that socket for the hip–the way it kind of rolls around in there, appearing to have absolutely no practical way to function.

So when I get in a room with a person advocating the theory of evolution over anything else, and an individual who insists on a literal interpretation of the Genesis creation story, I am baffled at how both of them fail to recognize how “fearfully and wonderfully” the human being is made.

I don’t care if there were billions of years of evolution–there is NO way that a single cell could EVER become a hip bone.

I‘m sorry. It’s impossible.

Somewhere along the line, there were LEAPS. What caused those leaps? I know that scientists have their own rendition of the mutations and interventions of nature, which may have instigated such spannings of the chasm. But honestly, when I look at an acetabulum and how it functions–how it rolls and how it’s supposed to last for a LONG time–I am massively in awe.

I guess I am one of those freaks who just believes that it’s ALL true. My concept of God is that He is kind of like a tourist visiting New York City for the first time. He literally wears Himself out, running from one site to another, enjoying every single moment of the vacation, refusing to miss any possible hallmark of the experience.

I think God likes to do it all. I think God tinkered with the amoeba and I think God messed with people. I think He enjoys perfecting things instead of pursuing the perfect.

So when I look at that hip-joint (which I don’t like to do for very long, by the way) I am convinced that there is more that went into that particular invention than we could ever imagine on this earthly plane. In other words, it took the best of evolution, it took the best of intelligent design, it took the best of mutation and it took the best of creation.

The mistake that most people make with God is that they feel empowered by discovering who He is or who He isn’t, and then they box Him up.

There IS no box for God. The minute we tell Him that He can’t do something, He’s already done it. And the minute we’re convinced that He does not exist in any way, shape or form, He goes ahead and finds a form … to shape our way.

Abyss

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abyss: (n.) a deep or seemingly bottomless chasm.

For some reason, this particular scene really got inside me and registered.

Honestly, I watch a lot of things in movies that don’t impact me at all.  This is why I’m not fond of fantasy. I’m not looking for a way to escape reality–I’m looking for a way to make my present situation fantastic.

But when I watched the movie, The Abyss, and I saw the two characters trapped at the bottom of the ocean, needing to cross a large breadth of water to get to safety, knowing that one of them would not be able to achieve the task and would have to be carried, and that the best way to perform that and give the other one the chance was to have that one individual propelled literally as dead weight–it put a chill down my spine.

Obviously, there was great acting. But just the THOUGHT of being willing to die, placing my trust in another person to revive me on the other side, was absolutely horrifying to my spirit. And as I watched the flick, I found myself needing to turn away because the suspense and danger of it rattled me so.

I realized that I could never trust anyone quite that much. First of all, we would have to agree that the worst part of dying is being there for it. What happens after death is beyond our meager comprehension, and before death is just what we call Tuesday.

But to allow yourself to die, hoping that someone has the power to resurrect you, is probably the essence of what we deem faith.

After all, maybe to the angels in heaven, the earth appears to BE an abyss–a deep, dark chasm of misunderstanding. And I guess in some strange way we’re all supposed to die to this life in order to gain new discovery about ourselves and even eternity. But it doesn’t make it any less scary. It doesn’t make it easier to suck your last–trusting that everything’s going to be okay.

People tell me all the time that they’re not afraid to die and they’re “ready to meet Jesus.” I don’t know whether I believe them or not.

I guess I’m ready to meet Jesus, too.  I just wish it was at Starbucks.