Jonathots Daily Blog
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Jonathots Daily Blog
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I don’t know where it got such a bad reputation.
Considering how common disappointment is, perhaps we need a new name for it.
For I will tell you—the chances that what I expect, wish to do or hope occurs actually come off are very slim. It doesn’t mean I should not plan and does not mean that I shouldn’t jump up and down in gratitude when things do work out according to my dreams.
But disappointment is valuable.
Without disappointment, some people would never, ever do anything differently.
Because once our first request is not available, we get introduced to a second possibility which often becomes our favorite.
Even in the world of love, how many struck oil with their first “digging” for a mate? No, sometimes it takes two. Three. (Dare I say ten?)
Disappointment is how life keeps things even, so we don’t start believing in ridiculous concepts—like “the chosen people” or “white privilege.”
For instance, I had some friends coming in from out of town, and I decided we would order in Chinese. I even had the list made. My mouth, mind and anticipation were leaning toward sweet-and-sour something or other. Then we discovered the Chinese restaurant is closed on Mondays.
Here’s the key:
Does disappointment deserve a reaction?
Is there any benefit in taking a moment to be displeased, which often leads to the more permanent frowning profile of “discouraged?”
Matter of fact, I would be curious to know how many people right now have experienced disappointment today, have allowed themselves to be displeased and now feel a little discouraged?
This particular path renders us ineffective and unfriendly.
So since disappointment is coming, shall we have a plan? Should we pretend there won’t be disappointing outcomes? Or is it a better idea to already have put together ideas on how to proceed when disappointment ends up being “the appointment?”
I think so. Here’s what I do with disappointment.
Take my Chinese dinner, for instance. Once I was disappointed and learned the restaurant was not open, I completely disconnected from the idea of Chinese food. I took it as a blessed sign from the universe to try another option so I wouldn’t be experimenting with a new restaurant or disappointed with the pricing.
Because if you cling to it, you’ll be displeased and therefore discouraged.
Once the disappointment of the Chinese restaurant was solidly confirmed in my mind, I disconnected from the option.
I asked that great question. Now that I don’t have what I thought I wanted, what can I discover which may end up being greater than what I might have gotten?
We decided to order in buckets of chicken from the Colonel. It was a good discovery. Simple, lots of sides, easy to eat, just throw away the trash at the end—and most people like at least some of the eleven herbs and spices.
I’m so happy–I just switched my taste buds to chicken.
After all, it is finger lickin’ good.
Or with the arrival of disappointment, you can disconnect from your original concept and open the door to discover.
Love is a committed affection.
A fostering of favoring.
A tenacious tenderness.
So how do we prove love?
Don’t wait to express yourself until your reaction is frustration or anger. Speak up when you know that your words will still be saturated with mercy. Make love your first choice and your last choice.
Isolate off those friends who are daring to believe in the simplicity of caring.
Feel free to ridicule those who come along to limit the power of belief and mock the sentimentality of emotion.
Don’t be satisfied with a religion that talks only of God in heaven and is of no earthly good.
Don’t feel that your expressions of faith and wishfulness should be abandoned simply because they did not dent the surface of cruelty the first time around.
Talk about a God who loves us in the moment instead of watching us from afar, waiting for eternity. Improve love.
And if you can’t find anyone to join you in this quest, then prove love to them.
Approve the love you see in them.
And gently show them how to improve the love they think is too weak to stand in an arrogant world.
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“I am not sure I believe.”
“I am afraid to believe.”
“Why should I have to believe?”
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Sit Down Comedy … July 3rd, 2020
Jonathots Daily Blog
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Waking up from my nap and sitting on the edge of my bed, I was listening to the muffled booming of the television trying to wiggle its way through my closed door.
After a few moments, I discerned that it was some sort of talk show, since there were two people conversing, and each one spoke too long for it to be a scripted program.
Trying to make out words.
It was a man and a woman speaking. Finally, after a few seconds of listening to the man, I made out what I assumed were three words: “admire a con.”
I winced but then snickered, realizing that this speaker had a bit of a Georgia drawl, and what he was trying to pronounce was “American.”
Almost immediately, the other person, the female, took up the cause and what I thought I heard her say was “a miracle can.”
Evaluating her accent—I guessed Bostonian—I once again had to chuckle, because this was her rendition of “American” also.
“Admire a Con” and “A Miracle Can.”
Remaining perched on the bed, I got to thinkin’.
As we round the corner to another day of Independence, we certainly, in candor, have to admit that our nation is often guilty of admiring a con.
Yes, we live in an environment where “Breaking Bad” is a good thing, where denying the truth is political magic, and refusing to take the blame for anything is deemed clever.
Those in power pretend they are surprised that the populous begins to turn on one another and cheat, lie, and attack. Then pundits comically insist they are trying to reveal both sides of the question.
So in this quagmire—where we “admire a con”—we find ourselves giving out, giving in and finally giving up.
We produce the best we can, only to be told there’s another way to do it which is not quite so expensive or meticulous. Therefore, we’re asked to give in to the common con, and after a while, because are hearts are hungry for some validity, we find ourselves giving up.
I don’t want to live in “Admire a Con,” even though the accent may be warm and fuzzy.
But on the other hand, “A Miracle Can” breathes potential.
As long as we don’t sit around and wait for God, gods and goddesses to perform their magic, miracles can be achieved through our efforts and glorified through celebration.
I could live in “A Miracle Can,” where I’m asked to bring my faith.
For you see, it’s too bad that faith has been associated with religion.
Faith is actually just an enduring belief—an insisting notion—a treasured principle.
So I could muster faith.
And then, with the rest of my brothers and sisters, we could all have a “come to Jesus” moment.
Not a revival, but rather, a renewal. A believing in one another.
Not a church service, but an inspiration to serve.
And once I brought my faith—that enduring belief—and had my “come to Jesus moment,” when time was still available for solutions—then I think I would actually be prepared to want to make things whole.
As long as things are broken, I can bitch.
If I contend that the world is hopeless, I can whimper and play victim.
But if I want to make things whole, I can get together with others, who bring their wit, will and willingness to join in.
I’m tired of living in “Admire a Con,” listening to mumblings through the door.
I need more than the promise of “A Miracle Can.”
Instead, I long to march together with newfound friends, as we bring our faith, have a “come to Jesus” moment and really, really want to make things whole.
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Tags: a miracle can, admire a con, American, bitch, Bostonian, Breaking Bad, come to Jesus moment, dark humor, faith, Georgia drawl, Independence Day, make things whole, muffled, pop psychology, pundit, renewal, Sit Down Comedy, social commentary, Television