Being an Adult -Cedar Sanderson

Being an adult -Cedar Sanderson

Being an adult is more than simply reaching the twenty-first year of age – or any other arbitrary line in the sand that is culturally determined.

Being an adult is being willing to do anything, everything, to help your children succeed in life. Even when ‘everything’ means being willing to step back and let them fall down a little.

Being an adult means not buying oneself toys when one’s babies are in need of food.

Being an adult means knowing that one day you will have to tell your children to check their credit when they turn 18, because chances are their other parent will have used their social security numbers to buy toys and other ‘necessities’ for themselves. And knowing that you will then have to explain that the only way for your children to clear their name is to press charges against that other parent. Being an adult is knowing you ought to have this same conversation with your ex’s new spouse, but that the trust bridge you are building there is too frail to risk, and they won’t hear that you are offering in love, not a desire to slander.

Being an adult sometimes means giving up your happiness, so that others may be happier.

Being an adult means that you are willing to attempt to understand the motivations of others and to be empathetic to them, even though your peers are sneering at you for not denouncing them. But this is difficult, all of this is difficult, and perhaps more than anything else, this willingness to be responsible for one’s own actions, not to blame them on someone else, or something else, this is being an adult.

My dear man, when we were talking about this not too long ago, shared a story of the first time he knew he was an adult.

“I was sitting in the bar when we heard an accident outside. We all ran out, and I immediately started telling people to do the things that my military training told me to do. Get the road blocked off, call an ambulance, send someone for a cop, first aid. Simply because no one was taking charge and it needed somebody in charge. At least until the adults got there. So we’re doing things, and people are looking to me, and asking me what to do. I’m still waiting for the adults to show up, and I suddenly realized that we’re the adults, no-one else is coming to tells us what to do. And wasn’t that a horrific shock.”

I think we all have moments when we wish we weren’t the grown-ups. When we would give anything to turn it all over to a parent who could sort out this tangled mess we’d made of our lives. I grew up being taught that you had to ‘turn it all over to God.’

Well, yes. And no. Being an adult means facing up to what you have done, and asking for forgiveness if that is needed. But it also means understanding that there are consequences for every decision you make, and that simply saying ‘I asked God to fix it’ is a cop-out. That’s not being an adult, that’s being a child.

We are the ones with boots on the ground, and it’s up to us to keep going even when the path gets rough and steep. We can seek counsel, sure. I do all the time, silently, and from those I trust. I didn’t intend this to be religious, and while it is, it’s also not. Even an agnostic knows they can seek strength from external sources, they just don’t call it praying. So it applies whether you are a believer or not.

Face it, life can be farcical at times. Being an adult means knowing that when you get knocked down hard, you have to get up, laugh it off, and gut it out. You can’t run whining to some higher authority about it. You certainly can’t run around whining that you’re being bullied and won’t Someone do Something? Because adulthood doesn’t work that way. This isn’t a playground, life isn’t always fair, and no-one is going to force Billy to give the ball back because you only had it for two minutes and he’s had it for five now.

Being an adult means learning how to share. How to share your life with first a mate, and then later, children. Sharing your life means you can’t demand perfection from someone else, especially if you aren’t offering them a perfect person in the form of yourself. And no, you aren’t perfect. Stop being absurd and don’t make me get religious at you again. You’re flawed, the one you chose is flawed. Accept it, and help them. That’s what partners do, they offer one another support. Remember how I just talked about getting counsel when your life is snarling up worse than a kitten with a ball of yarn? Ideally, this other adult in your life is the best one to help with that.

Which means that part of being an adult is choosing another adult to share your life with. Don’t pick someone who will blame you for everything they do wrong. Don’t entrust your health and sanity to someone who will tell you that you’re mentally unstable while they show all the signs of classic narcissism right down to self-medicating behaviours of addictions to anything from food to sex to gaming. None of those things are harmful in moderation, but we have all seen the damage they can do to a person with the mind of an adolescent who takes everything to an extreme.

Presuming that you have found that other adult who completes you, know that an even greater challenge is choosing to share your life with children. Loving them isn’t always easy, and it certainly doesn’t just happen. Love is hard work and being an adult means you are no stranger to hard work, and that you know hard work brings great rewards. It might sound trite, but that’s because it’s true. Parenting is the hardest job you will ever face, and it is the one with the most enduring results.

Being a parent of a teen brings new challenges. Colic, dirty diapers, sleepless nights, none of these compare to the anger only a teen can bring against their parent. One of the cruelest and most ironic taunts that can be hurled against an adult by their teenager is ‘I’m more adult than you are!’ but being an adult means that you don’t lash back at them. You know what being an adult is, and you know they don’t have a clue yet. So you love them, and you take a step back so they can stretch their wings. Because in this transition to being an adult, you know there will come a moment when you shouldn’t step in and take over, or they will never learn to truly be an adult.

90 thoughts on “Being an Adult -Cedar Sanderson

    1. For Memorial Day

      The Last of the Light Brigade

      There were thirty million English who talked of England’s might,
      There were twenty broken troopers who lacked a bed for the night.
      They had neither food nor money, they had neither service nor trade;
      They were only shiftless soldiers, the last of the Light Brigade.

      They felt that life was fleeting; they knew not that art was long,
      That though they were dying of famine, they lived in deathless song.
      They asked for a little money to keep the wolf from the door;
      And the thirty million English sent twenty pounds and four!

      They laid their heads together that were scarred and lined and grey;
      Keen were the Russian sabres, but want was keener than they;
      And an old Troop-Sergeant muttered, “Let us go to the man who writes
      The things on Balaclava the kiddies at school recites.”

      They went without bands or colours, a regiment ten-file strong,
      To look for the Master-singer who had crowned them all in his song;
      And, waiting his servant’s order, by the garden gate they stayed,
      A desolate little cluster, the last of the Light Brigade.

      They strove to stand to attention, to straighen the toil-bowed back;
      They drilled on an empty stomach, the loose-knit files fell slack;
      With stooping of weary shoulders, in garments tattered and frayed,
      They shambled into his presence, the last of the Light Brigade.

      The old Troop-Sergeant was spokesman, and “Beggin’ your pardon,” he said,
      “You wrote o’ the Light Brigade, sir. Here’s all that isn’t dead.
      An’ it’s all come true what you wrote, sir, regardin’ the mouth of hell;
      For we’re all of us nigh to the workhouse, an’ we thought we’d call an’ tell.

      “No, thank you, we don’t want food, sir; but couldn’t you take an’ write
      A sort of ‘to be conbnued’ and ‘see next page’ o’the fight?
      We think that someone has blundered, an’ couldn’t you tell’em how?
      You wrote we were heroes once, sir. Please, write we are starving now.”

      The poor little army departed, limping and lean and forlorn.
      And the heart of the Master-singer grew hot with “the scorn of scorn.”
      And he wrote for them wonderful verses that swept the land like flame,
      Till the fatted souls of the English were scourged with the thing called Shame.

      O thirty million English that babble of England’s might,
      Behold there are twenty heroes who lack their food to-night;
      Our children’s children are lisping to “honour the charge they made –”
      And we leave to the streets and the workhouse the charge of the Light Brigade!

    2. And this one’s for our Disloyal Opposition:


      “The eradication of memories of the Great War. -SOCIALIST GOVERNMENT ORGAN

      The Socialist Government speaks:

      THOUGH all the Dead were all forgot
      And razed were every tomb,
      The Worm-the Worm that dieth not
      Compels Us to our doom.
      Though all which once was England stands
      Subservient to Our will,
      The Dead of whom we washed Our hands,
      They have observance still.

      We laid no finger to Their load.
      We multiplied Their woes.
      We used Their dearly-opened road
      To traffic with Their foes:
      And yet to Them men turn their eyes,
      To Them are vows renewed
      Of Faith, Obedience, Sacrifice,
      Honour and Fortitude!

      Which things must perish. But Our hour
      Comes not by staves or swords
      So much as, subtly, through the power
      Of small corroding words.
      No need to make the plot more plain
      By any open thrust;
      But-see Their memory is slain
      Long ere Their bones are dust!

      Wisely, but yearly, filch some wreath-
      Lay some proud rite aside-
      And daily tarnish with Our breath
      The ends for which They died.
      Distract, deride, decry, confuse-
      (Or-if it serves Us-pray!)
      So presently We break the use
      And meaning of Their day!

        1. “There is nothing new under the sun.”

          And the socialist puts any leopard to shame at not changing spots.

          This one fits Obama equally well:

          Three things make earth unquiet
          And four she cannot brook
          The godly Agur counted them
          And put them in a book —
          Those Four Tremendous Curses
          With which mankind is cursed;
          But a Servant when He Reigneth
          Old Agur entered first.
          An Handmaid that is Mistress
          We need not call upon.
          A Fool when he is full of Meat
          Will fall asleep anon.
          An Odious Woman Married
          May bear a babe and mend;
          But a Servant when He Reigneth
          Is Confusion to the end.

          His feet are swift to tumult,
          His hands are slow to toil,
          His ears are deaf to reason,
          His lips are loud in broil.
          He knows no use for power
          Except to show his might.
          He gives no heed to judgment
          Unless it prove him right.

          Because he served a master
          Before his Kingship came,
          And hid in all disaster
          Behind his master’s name,
          So, when his Folly opens
          The unnecessary hells,
          A Servant when He Reigneth
          Throws the blame on some one else.

          His vows are lightly spoken,
          His faith is hard to bind,
          His trust is easy boken,
          He fears his fellow-kind.
          The nearest mob will move him
          To break the pledge he gave —
          Oh, a Servant when he Reigneth
          Is more than ever slave!

        2. Yes, it was Kipling’s blast against the creeping (or galloping) Communism and socialism in Britain. Certain traits do seem to cross time and space, don’t they?

  1. I too know the situation where kin have destroyed their own credit through greed and excess then wanted to use yours. Luckily I was able to bring that to a screeching halt before the law became involved. Main reason why to this day the phrase “blood is thicker than water” always makes me want to spit.

      1. Then there are the nieces that sue their Aunt. Lawyer got lots, Blue Cross expected repayment since she was making monetary gains on her ‘injury’, she got enough to spend a week in Disney World.
        Didn’t especially break my heart, as my Brother said, “She is dead in my eyes.” Unfortunately, she did break apart a formerly close and loving family.

  2. If you listen you just might hear God saying “I put you there to be the adult, so put on your big-boy/big-girl pant and get going.”

    1. Actually the Lord did tell Job just that (Job Ch 38-42)) here’s the first 4 verses (NET translation so no copyright issues)
      38:1 Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind:
      2 “Who is this who darkens counsel
      with words without knowledge?
      3 Get ready for a difficult task like a man;
      I will question you
      and you will inform me!
      4 “Where were you
      when I laid the foundation of the earth?
      Tell me, if you possess understanding!”

      Always good for perspective setting, and some seriously
      beautiful poetry no matter the translation.

      My daughters seem to understand being an adult is part of what
      they’re supposed to do (especially the elder now that she is out of college and job hunting), but some of their compatriots don’t seem to get it. I think to some degree not ever being allowed to fail is probably the worst thing you can do to a child. They neither know how to pick themselves up and move on nor the joy of succeeding at something that truly was at their limits and could have been a failure.

      1. The only true failure is the one you fail to learn from. When your ‘educators’ treat everything as a success, the rob the child of the most precious learning experiences in life.

      2. And I say Job wussed out.

        “I was not there for any of those, Nor when You made the decision that the possibility of Evil was allowed to exist. I do have to deal with the results. If You don’t like the way I deal with what You allowed, then You have the Power to punish me. You also have the Power to fix the original problem. Why is punishing me preferable?”

        1. Perhaps he was still a little more adult than the vile progs, as they do not seem capable of properly identifying the Evil that is allowed to exist. They ignore the evil in their midst and falsely accuse others of being evil.

        2. Nah, Job didn’t wuss out.

          Look, the thing that people forget is that a wise man or a rabbi told statements to the basic students, but he asked questions of the advanced students. Rabbis also might throw in something aggressive to teach them not to be thrown off-balance in arguments. Job was written before rabbis, but it’s the same cultural milieu.

          You should also remember that God ends up by telling off Job’s “comforter” friends, who had made up all sorts of stupid reasons why Job must be at fault. And then he rewards Job with more blessings than he’d had before.

          The question section is the longest section in the Bible where God treats a human like an advanced student. The moral of the story is partly that, if you have questions for God, you should ask Him. The other moral is that maybe you’re not ready to qualify for suffering and being treated like an advanced student and asked exciting questions, but it’s a goal to work for.

          1. And a lot of rabbi questions at once meant you were supposed to keep thinking about them later. I forgot that part. By giving Job questions, God is giving Job clues. Exciting clues. Clues about studying the wonders of Creation being important.

          2. One notes at the end Job has to make atonement sacrifices on his friends’ behalf and not his own.

          3. Having read part of the version of Joseph in Egypt that’s found in the Koran, it’s blatantly obvious that the author of the Koran didn’t understand Job.

            1. I once had the very peculiar experience of browsing a selection of Muslim children’s books of Stories From The Bible.

              Leave us just say that their versions of Abraham, Noah, Jacob, David, Jesus and the rest bore only a superficial resemblance to the stories I learned as a child.

  3. When the Daughtorial Unit was young Beloved Spouse & I frequently would remind ourselves that she was “just going through a phase.”

    And then one day we realized that as she aged the phases would take longer to get through … and that there were people we knew who had never made it through some of those later phases.

    Here’s to all the phases of our lives and to all who make it through them.

    1. About those phases. Seems to me that it’s a parent’s job to keep a watchful eye on them and in most cases see to it that they don’t become lifestyle choices. Or simply reinforce the good choices and drop the hammer on the bad ones.

      1. Ayup. And sometimes being a good parent means standing back and letting them live with their bad decisions as well as their good ones.

        When somebody reaches thirty without exiting a given phase a parent’s intervention can do more harm than nonintervention.

        1. Part of the problem is a culture which undermines parental authority along with personal responsibility, in which colleges and universities abandon in loco parentis but presume to establish “safe spaces” in which never is heard a discouraging word and the trials are star-chambers all day.

          1. Sigh.
            ANOTHER GREAT MOMENT IN EDUCATION – From The College Fix: “An upcoming workshop scheduled to take place at the University of Wisconsin-Madison aims to teach campus radicals and socialists how to manipulate campus resources to advance their agenda. ‘Undercommoning: A workshop on becoming a thief in the university,’ was the exact wording of the subject line in a recent group email sent to University of Wisconsin-Madison scholars and others announcing the event, set for June 4. The symposium, which will also be transmitted to a wider audience via Google Hangout, is described as a chance for campus radicals – students and scholars alike – to brainstorm ideas among their ‘newly formed Undercommoning Collective’ on how to influence university resources and advance their socialist agenda and provocative causes. Organizers did not respond to repeated requests for comment by The College Fix.” State university. Receives federal aid. Your tax dollars at work.

            The EPA and Department of Civil Rights already offer tutorials on how to sue to force the government to do what it wants to do.

            1. Ya know, if I was a taxpayer in WI, I’d be collecting torches, pitchforks, giant wheels of cheese and a large group of like-minded neighbors so I could provide a practical demonstration of how to organize a community and undercut wanna-be rabble-rousers. But then I’m not feeling especially charitable toward that sort of misguided fools today. (Have kin down in Wimberly. They’re OK, had a spook but no damage.)

  4. I think we all have moments when we wish we weren’t the grown-ups. When we would give anything to turn it all over to a parent who could sort out this tangled mess we’d made of our lives. I grew up being taught that you had to ‘turn it all over to God.’

    *headdesk* Gads, what an abuse of good advise!

    “Turn it all over to God” is for stuff that’s beyond your handling– when you’ve done everything you can, and everything you might, and it still not enough. Like with the step-mother situation. It’s not supposed to be a cop-out, and it’s definitely not supposed to go before the “deal with it” lessons for kids

    1. Like my rather uncharitable thoughts toward a college friend who was praying for the Second Coming so she wouldn’t have to deal with the future. I’m not a scholar of theology, and I don’t have the hotline to the Almighty that some seem to have, but I really, really don’t think that The Great Author intends for the Parousia to replace elbow-grease and persperation.

      1. I assume she ‘knows’ she will be one of the ones bodily transported to Heaven? Otherwise the following seven years will make our current ‘future’ seem like a cake walk.
        I normally have no issue with prayers; however, praying for the death and destruction of humanity seems a little arrogant and self-centered.

        1. Eh, then she’s misreading the Bible entirely. There’s a reason why the Rapture is taught only in small Protestant sects in the 20th and 21st century.

      2. The best essay I’ve read on that is C.S. Lewis’s “The World’s Last Night” which points out that the end of the world is not only the termination of their duties but the judgment on how they performed it.

        “happy are those whom it finds labouring in their vocations, whether they were merely going out to feed the pigs or laying good plans to deliver humanity a hundred years hence from some great evil. The curtain has indeed now fallen. Those pigs will never In fact be fed, the great campaign against White Slavery or Governmental Tyr-anny will never in fact proceed to victory. No matter; you were at your post when the Inspection came.”

      3. Once I learned to stop thinking of Him as bounded by Time it occurred to me that He can do a 2nd Coming for each of us, personally — demanding He do it for everybody at once seems a mite presumptuous.

        So if you’re relying on Rapture to resolve your credit card balances you might find yourself being left waiting longer than those who’ve followed His Instructions and lived each day preparing for His Arrival.

        N.B., this comment applies to Christians only and not even all of them as some Christians adhere to beliefs that would cross Jesus’s eyes.

        1. The Disciple
          “The Church that Was at Antioch”
          From “Limits and Renewals” (1932)

          He that hath a Gospel
          To loose upon Mankind,
          Though he serve it utterly —
          Body, soul and mind —
          Though he go to Calvary
          Daily for its gain —
          It is His Disciple
          Shall make his labour vain.

          He that hath a Gospel
          For all earth to own —
          Though he etch it on the steel,
          Or carve it on the stone —
          Not to be misdoubted
          Through the after-days —
          It is His Disciple
          Shall read it many ways.

          It is His Disciple
          (Ere Those Bones are dust )
          Who shall change the Charter,
          Who shall split the Trust —
          Amplify distinctions,
          Rationalize the Claim;
          Preaching that the Master
          Would have done the same.

          It is His Disciple
          Who shall tell us how
          Much the Master would have scrapped
          Had he lived till now —
          What he would have modified
          Of what he said before.
          It is His Disciple
          Shall do this and more….

          He that hath a Gospel
          Whereby Heaven is won
          (Carpenter, or cameleer,
          Or Maya’s dreaming son),
          Many swords shall pierce Him,
          Mingling blood with gall;
          But His Own Disciple
          Shall wound Him worst of all!

        2. Like the King James pi=3?
          If an infinite number of angels can dance on the head of a pin, then the individual size of one angel clearly is smaller than the 3D solid defined as plank space. Inside plank space, both space and time are undefined. Also called unbounded by time and space or eternal time and space.
          One of those things that exists in our own universe and our current understanding of time and space, and mostly, a humble admission that our knowledge is indeed limited.

            1. That’s what he said. Angels dance in quantum leaps and bounds.

              Still unanswered is what kind of dance the angels do. My guess is on the polka (although, for quantum dancing I probably ought specify: it’s the polka dot.)

              1. Well, they’ve taken human/material forms before, and we know that Himself sets things up in ways that people can possibly understand, so both how many can dance in a space and what dance they do would depend on why they’re doing it, wouldn’t it?

                Which would mean… there could be a flock of angels doing the Funky Chicken dance. 0.o

              1. Angels can have physical form which is why Jacob was able to wrestle one.


                I want to see Jacob’s wrestling match lucha libre style.

                  1. That only works if we had a reason to suspect that in at least some cases their form was reasonably consistent.

                    1. Well this sola scriptura person believes that some people have made angels out to be “more important” than scripture gives us reason to do so. [Smile]

                      Mind you, I liked the lines in Katherine Kurtz’s St. Patrick’s Gargoyle where a human is watch a bunch of Angels in Gargoyle form getting into the trunk of his car. Since there’s too many to “fit in”, he laughly asks “How many angels can dance on the head of a pin”. The answer comes back (from one of the angels) “Why would we want to and as many as needed to”. [Wink]

                    2. Well this sola scriptura person believes that some people have made angels out to be “more important” than scripture gives us reason to do so. [Smile]

                      *grin* As I’ve pointed out to folks, it’s a bit like focusing on the mail man when your grandma sends you a big birthday present.

                    3. Psalm 103:4, “Who makes His angels spirits.”

                      Huh. The usual reading of that Psalm (№ 104 in the Jewish counting) is the various ways Nature testifies to the Glory of God. I’d actually invert the translation of that verse: “He makes [into] His messengers, the winds” or “He makes winds His messengers, burning fire His ministers.” I see the KJV translates it the way you’ve quoted it; not sure why.

                    4. The USCCB’s translation (also numbered at 104) is this:
                      You make the winds your messengers;
                      flaming fire, your ministers.

                      I’d guess it’s a matter of literal vs figurative translation, since its footnotes point out in reference to 29-30 that wind/breath/spirit are intertwined.

                      I’d say that the inference of immaterial/spirit messengers (aka, as you know, “angels”) from a list of ways that Himself is really impressive is justifiable.

                    5. “Why would we want to and as many as needed to”.

                      This is similar to the answer that someone (an English professor) once quipped regarding the “Could God make a rock so big he couldn’t move it?” question.


              2. they can dance on the head of a pin and you think they are that limited, to require a body to wrestle.

                1. Not require a body; can take on a body.

                  Other instances of angels apparently taking on corporeal form can be found, such as Lot’s “guests” in Sodom or Abraham’s visitors. Somebody ate Lot’s unleavened bread, somebody had their feet washed by Abraham and ate the calf, cakes, curds and whey he served.

                  Taking on corporeal form seems simpler than other explanation, so why not accept they shaved with Occam’s razor?

                2. Angels can do a number of things; however, the number of people whom God grants the ability to perpetually see what they’re up to is rather limited so except for explicit biblical mentions (which, as RES mentions, certainly indicate the ability to take corporeal form at least by every definition WE would use such as ‘I can touch it.’ ‘It eats real food and sleeps in real beds.’ ‘I can clean it.’ ‘I could put it in a box and paint it green.’ Whether or not an angel would allow you to place it in a box and paint it green is a different argument.) much of what we ‘know’ about them is educated speculation and deduction.

            2. If the fit in Planck space, by definition their size is undefined. Then we have to consider an Angel’s mass. If they are without mass, then they must travel at the speed of light. They probably operate on the same principle as the infinite improbability drive.

    2. God helps those who help themselves. Somewhat a cliche, but when faced with a horrible situation and tangled mess: Pray for strength, pray for insight, pray for inspiration, pray for guidance, pray for forgiveness.
      Personally, I blame it all on Janis Joplin. “Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz.” It isn’t about God being your personal ATM. It is about placing your Faith in God to know what is right.

      1. If you don’t try, you might not be in position to catch the help that He is sending for you– like the guy in the flood who insisted with each increasingly elaborate rescue offer that God would save him, and died, and when he asked God why He hadn’t saved him, God listed off all the help He’d sent.

        Or the one about the person who prays to win the lottery, and finally Himself says: “Meet me halfway– buy a ticket!

        1. Meet me halfway– buy a ticket!

          Ah, that’s where my cunning plan comes in — I intend to sue the state lottery commission for unreasonable restrictions on who can win the Powerball.

          The way I see it, if people who don’t pay taxes are entitled to tax cuts/rebates, then simple consistency forbids the limitation of lottery awards to only those who buy tickets.

          1. when playing the lottery, you may wish to try my three part plan
            1. take a dollar
            2. buy a lottery ticket
            3(a) win the lottery
            (if 3(a) does not occur, go to 3(b)
            3(b) return to merchant, and talk to them about their “money back guaranty if not completely satisfied”

            1. Lotteries are clearly a mechanism created by dead white males to assert white privilege over the people of color, who may not have the resources to purchase a lottery ticket. Clearly the SJWs need to launch a campaign to provide lottery tickets to the needy for free. Requiring purchase is like the old Jim Crow poll tax.
              In any event: Lottery, some one has to win, but it will NOT be you.

          2. And this reminds me of my favorite way to win a lottery: wait until the jackpot get so big, that it’s worth buying every single ticket there is. This doesn’t come without risk: if someone else buys a winning lottery ticket, then you have to share the prize. But it’s a small risk.

            I remember reading about a mathematician who did this, first by buying every fifth ticket (because he couldn’t afford them all), and then later, by buying every single ticket. Everyone thought the guy did something illegal, but it was all within the rules.

            Mathematicians can be evil that way. (very evil grin)

      2. My problem with G-D “wants you to be happy” is that I can’t help thinking “What if He wants me to be appreciative and decides a little more humility is what it would take for me to be happy — and so decides I should experience being homeless?”

        After all, there is no better stimulant for an appetite than starvation.

        Also: be careful what you ask for …

        1. Indeed God wants you to be happy, but most fail to understand that God takes the ‘long view’:
          Eternal Afterlife burning in Hell = unhappy.
          Any suffering on Earth is transient and brief.

          1. “Sand the floor.”

            There is an old anecdote about some person praying for strength and the Lord sends him challenges, to build his strength, praying for patience and the Lord giving him children to try his patience, praying for anecdotes and the Lord sending him the internet.

            I believe the Lord answers all requests but am confident that (like the monkey’s paw) often answers them in ways unexpected.

              1. It took a little looking, but here is the ungarbled version:

                I asked for strength and God gave me difficulties to make me strong.
                I asked for wisdom and God gave me problems to solve.
                I asked for prosperity and God gave me brawn and brains to work.
                I asked for courage and God gave me dangers to overcome.
                I asked for patience and God placed me in situations where I was forced to wait.
                I asked for love and God gave me troubled people to help.
                I asked for favors and God gave me opportunities.
                I asked for everything so I could enjoy life.
                Instead, He gave me life so I could enjoy everything.
                I received nothing I wanted, I received everything I needed.
                – Unknown

    3. Nah, turning everything over to God is the first thing to do, because even things that appear well within your handling may go awry in ways you can’t prevent.

      Ending it there, however, falls in the category “putting the Lord your God to the test.” If it pleases God to solve your problems by ordinary, mundane means, like your own actions, you ought not to demand miracles.

  5. As it is Memorial Day, here’s something a little off-topic in recognition of the reason we are able to celebrate this day, courtesy of the NY Post. Even if you only read this here, please give a click on the link embedded so that they know how far it is spread:

    Uncommon valor: A true story of WWII heroism
    By James MacGuire

    May 24, 2015 | 6:38pm

    Lee Casper and Dick Schmeelk served on board the submarine USS Blackfinn off the Philippines in 1945, fighting in the Pacific theater of WWII. Casper shared the following story from 1944 with Schmeelk and James MacGuire, who relates it here to share with our readers on Memorial Day.

    We were on patrol before Christmas in the South China Sea. We’d just torpedoed merchant ships and tankers and attempted an attack on two Japanese battleships and three heavy cruisers, which sighted us and forced us to dive deep.

    Suddenly our orders changed.

    When we surfaced, our skipper received a coded radio message ordering us on a secret mission. Captain Laird called 12 of us to the control room. We were to rendezvous at sea with a group of Filipino guerilla fighters and their leaders, two American army officers. These men had managed to capture a Japanese patrol boat and, with it, a set of their top-secret patrol books — a tremendous prize the US Fleet commanders wanted to take advantage of before the Japanese high command learned of their loss.

    Our instructions were to meet these men in the waters off the shore of the large island on Mindoro, about 100 miles south of Manila, where a fierce battle for that city was then under way.

    Because I had been sent to the Navy’s night-vision school, I was selected as one of the lookouts to be stationed topside. What a shock when I saw less than a quarter-mile away a major Japanese fortification! Even without binoculars I could clearly see soldiers milling about the gun emplacements. We got a coded message from the Army saying that enemy patrol boats had been too close for them to come out: “Let’s try again tomorrow night, same time and place.”

    When we surfaced and took our watch positions the next night, we were rewarded very quickly. A dim shape appeared off our port bow. We heard a low voice call out, “Ahoy! The submarine.”

    Up on the bow, Gunner Signore, boat hook in hand, answered, “Who the hell are you?” The voice came back, “Captain somebody, US Army, and seven crew.” Captain Laird ordered the men on deck to secure the vessel alongside and assist its crew to come aboard.

    The vessel turned out to be a long native canoe called a banco. The American officers were dressed in khaki shorts and tattered skivvy shirts. The Filipinos were bare from the waist up.

    The two Army captains, it turned out, were escapees from the notorious Bataan Death March. Friendly natives kept them alive and assisted them to Mindoro, where they discovered a small band of young men who were doing whatever they could to sabotage and disrupt the Japanese. They eagerly accepted the Americans as leaders and were trained into an effective fighting force. In addition to the Japanese code books they had acquired, the Americans had mapped all the troop locations, gun emplacements, ammunition and supply dumps on the entire island.

    The Army guys handed over two large, waterproof satchels containing the captured codes and maps to Captain Laird. The captain passed the word among the entire crew that whatever clothing we could all spare would be greatly appreciated by the guerrillas. Laird then ordered all of our small-arms ammunition, Thompson submachine guns, hand grenades and a dozen Colt .45s to go with the guerrillas. We were headed for Australia as soon as this job was finished and were quite generous, even throwing in our mattress covers and cigarettes. When the stuff was ready to go, it was all passed topside and offloaded into the canoe.

    That was when we got our biggest surprise.

    We had all assumed that the two Army officers, having survived the torture and inhumanity of the Bataan Death March and led these Filipino men in heroic resistance to the Japanese, would call it quits and come to Australia with the rest of us.

    But no: When the last Filipino man ascended the conning tower ladder, the two Army guys shook hands and said goodbye to all around. Then they followed the guerrillas, climbed quietly into the canoe, picked up their paddles and slipped away into the darkness.

    Later, Captain Laird told us he had urged the men to join us. But the Americans replied that the guerrillas had become like brothers to them, and they could not even consider leaving until the Japanese had been completely driven out.

    We waited an hour before starting our motors to make sure our new friends were well away. Because our commander was anxious to get the code books as quickly as possible, we rendezvoused with the Australian destroyer H.M.A.S. Kiama off the island of Morotoi in the Molucca Sea, made the transfer and arrived in Perth for two weeks of R&R well before Christmas.

    A small postscript to the story: You’ll remember we had been sworn to secrecy? Imagine our surprise when the Christmas issue of LIFE Magazine contained a feature story about the taking of Mindoro Island by US forces without the loss of a single life thanks to an unnamed US submarine that had obtained maps of the island’s installations ahead of the American attack.

    I’ve never heard another accounting of this incident or the incredible valor of the two American Army officers who risked their lives all over again to make it happen. Whoever they were, and wherever they are now, today we should all offer a long overdue “Thank you.”

    James MacGuire advises the White House Writers Group. Anyone with knowledge of the two American Army officers can e-mail

    1. Truth be told. I read Cedar’s post when there were only a couple of replies, and I was so depressed over the whole “Parent ruins children’s credit to buy step-Mother bling” part that I didn’t know how to reply. Discussing Angel’s size and mass with Mary can be labeled: “No children were harmed in the making of this post”.
      Student loans prove that neither ‘the State’ nor the protective environment of ‘the University’ gives a rat’s *ss about young adult’s credit rating and life of debt. I was happily looking through my rose colored glasses knowing that at least kids have Parents to teach them fiscal responsibility. Fortunately, none of the rose colored glass fragments hit my eye when Cedar lobbed that little tidbit.

  6. ” One of the cruelest and most ironic taunts that can be hurled against an adult by their teenager is ‘I’m more adult than you are!’ ”

    Been there, done that, both sides of the fence. There’s a reason a 2nd-year student is named a “sophomore”, literally “wise fool”. They’ve learned a little — but not enough to realize how much they don’t know: today we could call it the Dunning-Krueger effect. All adolescents go through the same phase, with the added “bonus” that they are trying to establish their own identity “different” from their parents.
    My daughter is only now starting to realize, I believe, how much she has in common with the parents she used to push off against when she wasn’t playing them off against each other. Unlike my wife (who didn’t go through adolescent rebellion herself, only to go through it with a vengeance in her college years — as a result of which she wasn’t on speaking terms with her parents for a decade) I always sort-of knew the daughter would grow out of that phase.

  7. “…of addictions to anything from food to sex to gaming.”

    What about addictions to reading awesome science fiction and fantasy? Is that one okay? Otherwise I’m even more screwed than I though… 🙂

    Aah. It’s good to be back from vacation. Now I can catch up on my sleep.

      1. OTOH, reading mediocre, humanity-hating socially conscious politically correct SF simply because you can’t find any of the awesome stuff is evidence of a severe substance abuse problem. Remember, there are other genres, some of which are as yet untainted by SJWs.

  8. It reminded me of working at Penrose Library in Colorado Springs. About once every other month, a young person would come in for a library card. On checking there record, we would discover an account already made in their name, with a bill of several hundred dollars.
    They would sigh, then either pay the bill or set up a payment plan.
    They were inevitably the kids of some local ne’er-do-well who’d run up a tab under their name. The kid would eventually be taken away by CPS and become a responsible adult, who then had to pay off debts run up by the afore mentioned parent.
    It was the tired sigh that would get me. They’d reach for their wallet and pay off a debt that wasn’t really theirs, just to get rid of it.

  9. Speaking of “being an adult” file this under too choice for words:

    Bernie Sanders’ Wife May Have Defrauded State Agency, Bank
    Documents obtained by The Daily Caller News Foundation indicate that the wife of Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders may have been able to use her clout to get away with loan fraud, nearly bankrupting the small college she was president of and collecting a sizable severance package in the process.

    These revelations come amid growing speculation that Sen. Sanders, a self-described socialist who has blasted the U.S. government asan oligarchy run by billionaires and railed against the golden parachutes received by top corporate executives, will contend for the Democratic presidential nomination.

    Jane Sanders was the president of tiny Burlington College in Burlington, Vermont for seven years, from 2004 until 2011. During her tenure, Sanders masterminded an ambitious expansion plan that would have more than doubled the size of the school. To do so, she had the college take on $10 million in debt to finance the purchase of a new, far more expansive campus. The move backfired massively, leading to Sanders’ departure from the college and the near-collapse of the institution.

    According to Jonna Spilbor, an attorney who reviewed the documents for TheDCNF, “the college APPEARS to have committed a pretty sophisticated crime” by exaggerating donor commitments in order to secure financing for the deal.

    Sanders’ role in bringing Burlington College to the brink of the abyss has been known for years. Research by TheDCNF, however, indicates that Sanders may not just be guilty of bad judgment, but potentially criminal activity enabled by Vermont officials willing to implicitly trust the wife of a sitting senator.
    – – –
    Pop some corn and read the whole thing.

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