Skip to main content

I Guess I Was Left Behind

Well, it's past 9 pm on May 21, and I'm still here. I guess I was left behind.

Despite having accepted Jesus Christ as my savior, I wasn't swept up to heaven. Well, I kinda get that. I've done a lot that might stand between me and eternal salvation, much of it in the '90's, although there are a few commandments in particular I've been having an awfully difficult time with over the last few years.

But BMNB is still here, too, downstairs watching what's left of the Dallas/OKC playoff game. He doesn't seem to be the least concerned that he's still here, too. What's that about? He's done a whole lot less sinning than I have, and he's been a devout Baptist all his life. I can understand me still sitting here waiting to be vaporized, but not him.

Well, Lord, let me just say thank you for at least letting my niece graduate from Sacramento State University today before 6 p.m. Pacific time so she could at least get swept up or vaporized WITH a Bachelor's degree. Wherever you end up, you should always aim to make it better by your presence, which I think she'll be able to do with her newly minted degree in Child Development.

I guess all those folks on the freeway drive home got left behind, too. And the baristas at Starbucks where I got my grande skinny caramel macchiato on the way home today.

I'm just hoping the people who made this prediction were just flat wrong and I wasn't left behind. Besides, if Scripture says that no one knows the hour when The End will occur, quite frankly, I'm very cool with that. I don't want to know the hour. Maybe that's incentive for me to work harder on those two commandments giving me a heap of trouble over the last few years.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

When You Leave The Ghetto, Don't Bring It With You

NBA player Gilbert Arenas brings a gun to an NBA locker room. NBA player Ron Artest lets his pit bulls run wild and free in Loomis, California while playing for the Sacramento Kings. NFL player Michael Vick did time for fighting dogs. And NFL player Plaxico Burress is doing time for shooting his damn self.

What do all these men have in common? BMNB would say an inability to make a profound paradigm shift. I’m less eloquent than BMNB is, so I’ll say it differently: The inability to leave the ghetto behind.

Yes, call me saditty, bourgie, elitist, stuck-up, whatever. I don’t care. Until you’ve had a tweaker ruin your Thanksgiving turkey, you don’t even know (more on that later), and I’m not trying to hear you.

Living in Western Placer County, my husband and I continue to hear stories from folks like us who had to flee “those who can’t leave the ghetto behind.” You know these people, and they come in all races. In our case, we had returned to Sacramento in 2004 and 2005, respective…

Black Woman Blogging's Gun Control Proposal

Thanks to a relative who sent me death threats, I became a gun owner. Reluctantly.  What can I say.  You don't choose your family.

That said, I'm for gun control.

As far as I'm concerned, America lost its moral compass when we didn't do squat after Sandy Hook.  If you can allow a madman to murder children and not be moved to do nothing, you have no moral compass.  Period.

Now that we've broken an unfortunate record for the number of people killed in a mass shooting, perhaps we as a country are ready to get our minds right about gun control.  Perhaps.  So in that spirit, I offer my gun control proposal.

First, we need to agree on some real (not alternative) facts and principles:

1.  There is no such thing as an unlimited right.  Yes, people, there are no unlimited rights protected under the Constitution.  Your right to free speech?  Well, not all speech is protected under the First Amendment and even protected speech can be limited by time, place and manner.  Your…

Retired Man Walking: Too Young to Retire, Too Old to Take Shit

A while back I ran into a friend and fellow professional employed by the State of California, and he offered me his perspective on State employment as a tail-end Baby Boomer like myself -- someone who can't retire because he lacks the requisite age or years of service, but, unlike myself, is tired of taking shit from superiors who don't know what to do with you.

Although my friend gave his permission for me to use his name in this blog entry, I decline to do so because what he does is so specialized that it would not be hard for anyone to identify him as one of the few African American men, if not the only African-American man, in California state civil service who does what he does. For purposes of this blog entry, I will refer to him as he now refers to himself:  Retired Man Walking.

Retired Man Walking, or RMW, has an interesting philosophy he applies to working for the State as a professional who isn't old enough to retire but has been around long enough to know the s…