The Candyland Perspective

He's in full swing.  We're so close to magnificant and wonderful things that it just makes sense that somebody (grrr) wants to mess things up.  (Double grrr.) I'm cranky.  I'm a crybaby.  I'm snappy.  I'm tired.  I'm judgemental.  It feels like I'm stuck in perma-pms, and I have felt this way since the end of summer.  In my attempt to thwart this negativity, I've embarked on a quest to "BE" more of what Heavenly Father wants me to be.  You know, the BE's that Gordon B. Hinckley taught.  I've not been so awesome.  My focus is fuzzy right now.  I've got to get it together a.s.a.p. because well, I just gotta.  That and I've been told a time or two that I'm stubborn.  And by golly, the adversary will not win. So there.  Take that.

I am nearly offended by how judgemental I can be.  And this makes me both laugh and cry.  I'm a puzzle.  Good grief.

Is it at all possible to be truly humble and find oneself taking offense?  I don't think so.  According to THIS DEFINITION  of "offend," it seems to me that in order to be offended, one must assume malice on the part of the supposed offender.  Being assumptive is pretty much the same as being judgemental, is it not?  How can one be judgemental and still be humble?  I daresay it cannot be done. Clearly, there are 'offending' situations in life.  All sin is offensive to the pure in heart.  But since every single one of us is human and does sin, it goes without saying that not a single one of us is truly pure.  Who am I to be offended by the actions of another?  Oftentimes at church I hear that this person was offended by that person, or that person was offended by so-and-so's words, etc.  I wonder if perhaps the offended person were to just not assume/believe the offender meant harm, how easily the situation could be remedied.  I believe that if I am being

Apparently, I am in love with Tootsie Rolls.  It's true.  If I had strawberry Twizzlers near me, then this pile would be much MUCH higher. Heaven help me.

The Road Not Taken   Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth. Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same. And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. There are a couple of differing schools of thought on this poem.  One suggests individualism while the other is perhaps more personal to the author, a study of thought that a friend of his had of literally considering