As a woman, I know all too well the ups and downs that women go through in life. The miracle of childbirth, the countless hours of homework, chores, cooking, wiping butts, wiping tears, listening to your husband tell you about who knows what (because you’re only halfway listening to him)….”Yes, dear”…”Oh, really?…”Wow.”…..Yep, it’s called multi-tasking. Although most men would say we are ignoring them, actually, we are listening to you and at the same time planning dinner, setting aside time to “play” with you later and determining what time to put the kids in the tub.
It’s mentally draining. But, even with all of women’s star qualities, we still are underpaid, overworked, unappreciated and sub par in some people’s eyes. But, we also are genuine, thoughtful, loving, caring, supportive, heck, maybe even a little smarter. 🙂 We are just as good as men, right?
So, the hot question today on my Hubpages profile is:
Are women fit to become teachers or ministers?
You really must join in on this one. There are all sorts of views and comments being made…from “women have their place”…to…”why not?”.
The woman in the picture is Joyce Meyer, a female minister, who, unlike some preachers has an approach to preaching that’s like none I’ve ever seen. Because she is a woman, does that make her message any less worthy than a man? Are men threatened by a woman who may be better at explaining things than they do? Is she stepping outside of her womanly duties by spreading the Word of God?
I’m loving all the drama…but more importantly, its great to see how others feel on this subject and open up some sort of dialogue. Want to put your 2 cents in? Or read what others have to say?
Sound off by clicking here.
Or copy-and-paste the link below. I can’t wait to hear what you have to say!
Like this post? Why not repost it or tweet it? And, I challenge everyone who has not heard or seen Joyce Meyer, to check her out and judge for yourself.
Blessings to all,
I was making my three young boys, aged 2, 3 and 4 years old lunch today. Grilled cheese and applesauce. Something that my mother used to make for us when we were younger. Most people wouldn’t think to pair the two together. Usually it’s served with tomato soup or something like that. But growing up in Detroit in the 70s made you learn how to stretch your dollar. Especially if you had a large family.
My mother had 4 girls, no boys, of which I am the oldest. My dad had a good job at the utility company. We were fortunate to have been able to leave Detroit eventually and move to the suburbs. My parents felt like we should be able to have a good education and good opportunities.
My mother, formerly a caterer, taught us that family is important and she also showed us how to love and respect each other and other people. But another thing I learned from her was how to cook meals made from love for my family. How to take the little things you have and make it work so that everyone can eat.
So while making grilled cheese sandwiches for my kids, I lovingly recall days of pork ‘n beans with pieces of hot dogs, beef stew, chili, lasagna and fried chicken. However, I also remember things like homemade pound cake, carrot cake and helping her make chocolate chip cookies. I remember being angry at her for never buying ice cream from the ice cream truck for us like all our friends did; but she always kept ice cream and Popsicles in the freezer for us.
Yes, I, like most other kids enjoyed nutritious meals with my family, but also was able to have things to snack on from time to time. Everyone has cravings from time to time; whether it be a sweet tooth or something salty.
I can’t imagine what it would feel like to have someone from outside my household tell me what I can and can’t feed my children. Although, I’d like to think I provide healthy and satisfying meals for my family, you will still find a variety of snack foods in my house at any time. But what do you consider to be a snack? Well, people have varied opinions on it.
Snack or “junk” foods could be crackers, pretzels, fruit rollups, candy bars, Slim Jims, Vienna sausage, spam, ice cream, brownies, corn dogs, hot dogs, sandwiches, pizza rolls, cake, pie, cheese, yogurt, pudding, tv dinners, toast with jelly, hardboiled eggs, or fruits, nuts and vegetables. Is there really only one kind of snack or junk food? What may be considered junk food to some isn’t to others. So how would you regulate something like that?
I read on CafeMom that the state/federal government is considering banning food stamp recipients from buying “junk food” with their food stamps. I have to admit, I was pretty pissed off by some of the comments on there by other moms. Okay, on one hand, I can truly understand people being upset about abuse of food stamp “privileges”. But at the same time, I don’t want anyone to tell me how to feed my kids.
I read about people wasting their tax dollars on food stamp recipients and all sorts of crappy comments. Where exactly do we draw the line? Should we stop people from buying ground beef because they make cheeseburgers from it and cheeseburgers are greasy and fatty? Or should we stop allowing people to buy Kool-Aid because too much sugar isn’t good for you? Better yet, will they stop me from buying coffee for my coffeemaker (which I drink while I blog and write) because it has no real nutritional value? Or, no more cooking oil to reduce eating fried foods?
I know, I should just have a spare set of keys made so the government can use the spare bedroom, that way, they can control everything in my household. Come on people, seriously? I think our time is better spent making sure people eat at all, than every-penny-detail of what they spend.
I guess I always could make cakes, cookies, pies, etc. from scratch. Even popsicles and pudding. You guys better start too. Or just have some grilled cheese and applesauce, if it’s approved.
The spirit moves in everyone differently. Some people choose to ignore its presence, while others take it and run free. I grew up in Detroit, moved to a suburb of Detroit (Southfield) when I was a tween and have seen the bottom of the pot in more of my days than I care to remember…I certainly have licked it clean time and time again.
I know how the “system” works. Welfare, WIC, food stamps, medicaid, Salvation Army, St. Vincent de Paul, churches, social organizations…I know it all. People in my family come to me when they need help for finding a resource. I don’t know quite how that makes me feel…that I’m the “go-to-it-person” for being poor. But now, I have embraced it. I know my place. Maybe I was never meant to be rich; but what I was meant to do was give people a little piece of peace.
Okay, so enough of the lows…let’s get to the highs.
When I lived in Michigan, there was sooo much help available, IF you knew where to find it. When I moved to Arizona, it was a whole different ball game. Oh, they have the usual organizations: Salvation Army, St. Vincent de Paul, churches, etc. But there was a difference. See, Arizona was not prepared for the population boom that hit it a couple years ago. The economy went down and people moved to where they might be able to make a difference in their lives. There has been such an overwhelming amount of help needed out here that charitable organizations are forced to do “lottery-style” assistance.
What do I mean by that? For instance, in Tempe, Arizona. If you need help with your rent, you call the TCAA (Tempe Community Action Agency) on Fridays at 8:00 am. Or, you call the Salvation Army on Mondays at 9:00 am, or something like that. Anyway, what you don’t know is that out of the thousands of calls that are flooding their phone lines at that precise call-in time, they only take about 10-20 calls and thus, only help about 10-20 people per week. Never have I seen such a thing! Get a busy signal, hang up, hit redial…over and over again. Only to finally get through 30 minutes later and be told you have to call back next week! Whoever can dial the fastest, or is smart enough to dial from two different phones is the “winner” of not being evicted. Sad, but true. (I know from experience.)
I had all but given up on the “system” and chucked it off to…the government/people just doesn’t care. That was, until I came across an angel in disguise as a woman. Scarymommy is what they call her, although to know of her, she is really not that scary. An angel, I say, because she had the wonderful idea and the courage to actually help people less fortunate than her.
She figured that about $25 would be enough to cover Thanksgiving dinner, posted it on her website and did an “all call” for donors and people in need. The result? Over $18,000 donations from all over the WORLD. As result of people getting the word out ( I was one of them) and people opening up their hearts; therefore, their wallets. Almost 400 families will be enjoying Thanksgiving dinner next week (I am also one of them).
So what does this all mean? That there is still good in the world. That we CAN actually help each other if we want to. That one person CAN make a difference. That we should all slow down, enjoy life and embrace the “scary” in each of us. So, sit back in your chair. Close your eyes and for a minute..be at peace…knowing that angels really do exist and you can find them at scarymommy.com
(Scary, if you’re reading this, count me in for Thanksgiving next year and the year after that and anything else you need help with.)
Christmas is coming up. How can YOU make a difference in someone else’s life?
When I was in high school, or a little bit younger than that, I used to write stories. I used to dream of being a TV reporter, reporting news or writing some famous novel. I never took it seriously, but I knew that I was good in English, the same way other people were good in Math.
I loved to read. I would enter reading contests; who could read the most books over the summer. I entered spelling bees. I was good with words. The other thing I could do was sing and dance.
I had an eye for music. I was in choir, I played the clarinet for six years, I was in marching band, cheerleading captain, school musicals. You name it. I did it. I had promise.
What happened? I’ll tell you what, life happened. Gone were my dreams of becoming a doctor. Enter motherhood, heartache, job searching, soul searching, more motherhood…….wasting away……more motherhood and now here I am. Thirty-nine years old, sick, tired and struggling.
Writing is slowly becoming my open window. My chance to escape from reality, from financial problems, health problems, family problems. It is my new drug. I’m addicted to it already. No hangovers, no throwing up the next day. No headache, no side effects.
I like this drug. I don’t have to discuss it with a doctor. There is no contra-indications with my other medications. I think I’ll stick with it. Today I entered a writing contest on Hubpages.com. I figured why not? I’ve been at this a couple of months now. I have almost 200 followers on there. If I lose so what?
Let me tell you that I had the most exquisite time writing that story. If you get a chance check it out. It is my first-ever published short story. I left it with a cliffhanger at the end. Not sure if I will write sequels to it or not. I’ll see how people like it. Let me know what you think:
That was about a month ago. One of the few things that I can manage to remember in my cloudy head. Can’t remember doctor appointments. Can’t remember a conversation I had last week. Can’t remember what I was doing a minute ago, but that I remembered.
So what did he mean by that you ask? Don’t question God about something that God has already laid the law down about. (Essentially that’s what he meant.) So don’t try to figure out why the tornado took your house and not your neighbors. After all he’s the one that cheats on his wife. Or don’t try to figure out why that newborn was tossed in the dumpster. (Because you desperately want kids and can’t have them.)
And don’t try to make sense of people strapping bombs to their chest or flying planes into a building just because they think their God is better than your God. Senseless. It’s all senseless. But you can never move on from the hurt and pain if you try to put that question mark there.
It is what it is. It’s meant to be….I guess. So here we all are…on the road to nowhere. Or should I say somewhere. But God has a purpose for us all. We all have jobs to fulfill, however long we are here.
Stay on the path. Don’t lose focus.
We all have a commonality. We want to be loved. We want to love someone. We want to be taken seriously. We want respect. (Even if we don’t give it.) We want to do something that people will remember us by. We want to leave our marks on this world.
Life is like that. It’s a road that we travel not knowing our destination. Not knowing who we will meet along the way. Not knowing who will travel the entire distance with us. Not knowing what’s around the corner. When God puts a period on part of your travels down the road, just know that there is something important in store for you further down. You just can’t see it yet. God Bless us All.