tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14423818494666745822024-03-21T16:31:51.013-07:00In His Sight~ a medley of ponderings as we walk through this life together... hosted by Sharon McAnear, author of the Jemma Series and the Stars in My Crown trilogy. Psalm 19:14 ~ "Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable
in thy sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer."Sharon McAnearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15098356101822323452noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1442381849466674582.post-26245518808751205032017-07-09T10:57:00.002-07:002017-07-09T10:57:44.172-07:00Just For Fun <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">As I write a pre-21st century book, I sometimes consider how my characters' predicaments would resolve if only they had a cellphone. Wonder what kinds of text messages history would reveal if we could toss a cell to a sampling of high-profile, former citizens of our planet? </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">How about Adam to Eve: <i>FYI, hon. Steer clear of the apples. Full of rotten wormholes. </i></span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">C'mon, share your own example! 🍎 📱</span></b></span>Sharon McAnearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15098356101822323452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1442381849466674582.post-59687673331567434332012-02-21T19:16:00.000-08:002012-02-21T19:16:01.861-08:00What's your deal?For one very long semester, I worked as a substitute teacher. The phone would ring before the sun came up, and I got my assignment for the day. On a particularly cold morning, I found myself in a room with fifteen EBD (Emotionally and Behaviorally Disordered), elementary-aged students from around our school district. There was one other adult who served as an aide, but he left before attendance was taken to help find an EBD student who was a "runner." She had escaped immediately after arriving on the bus.<br />
<div class="imageLeft" style="width: 150px;"><a href="http://www.oaktara.com/bookpage-cornerofblue"><img alt="" class="imgPhoto" height="229" src="http://images.christianpost.com/blog/full/11939/cornerofblue.jpg?w=150&h=229" title="cornerofblue" width="150" /></a></div>All was not chaos. The regular teacher had left instructions on his desk. I passed around nametags and markers, then set out to collect them.<br />
One young man, a big sixth-grader, did not comply with my request to write his name. He watched as I neared him. "What's your deal?" he asked, spinning a thick book around the top of his desk.<br />
"I'm the substitute," I said brightly.<br />
"Yeah, I get that," he said. "What's your deal, though? Do you freak out if I just break my pencil in half, or does it take somebody throwing a chair at you?"<a href="" name="more"></a><br />
What a politician. He was sizing me up so he could empower himself. I leaned down to his level as I responded, to avoid further distraction for the rest of the students. As I did, the ceramic heart pendant on my necklace came to rest at the edge of his desk. I looked him in the eye. "I hope this is going to be a good day for all of us."<br />
"Really?" he said. Then, with full force, he used his book to smack that little heart. Shards of it sprayed in all directions.<br />
"Hey!" I yelled. "That's unacceptable."<br />
He smiled. Now we understood one another.<br />
As we approach the next presidential election, what's your deal? What is your tipping point with any given candidate? Is it strictly party affiliation, or is it a specific issue? Do you weigh personal issues between candidates—can one sin outrank another? Do religious beliefs matter? Do you prefer that a candidate has the same social roots as you? Do you admire a self-made man/woman? Does a different accent provoke your ire? Does ethnicity have any effect on your vote?<br />
When you listen to political rhetoric, what's your deal? Are you waiting to hear a candidate speak in favor of your party's issues with fervent passion, even if you've heard him/her say the opposite to another crowd? Do you believe political promises even though you understand the reality and limitations of the three branches of our government?<br />
What's the Christian's deal with politics in general? Is it our desire to limit governmental control and bolster individual freedom while we want the same government to mandate and police selected societal or moral issues? Are we willing to point to the <em>Constitution</em> when it suits our needs but look away when it protects our fellow citizens? In general, should liberals be considered as amoral, smart aleck do-gooders holding no regard for budgetary matters? Moreover, should conservatives be labeled as righteous patriots who singularly comprehend the value of money and private success?<br />
Is cooperation something we teach our children but then set aside to scorn as adults? Do we Christians make a purposeful effort to engage both our hearts and our heads when we vote or, is that act more akin to executing a full-force smack against the opposing party to regain or maintain power?<br />
I know this one thing. Take care about the location of your heart, and perhaps your head as well, when any politician is sizing you up.Sharon McAnearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15098356101822323452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1442381849466674582.post-38281377998633159332011-07-11T21:19:00.000-07:002011-07-11T21:19:09.267-07:00VELVET SLIPPERSIn the fifties, farming community schoolhouses in <state><place>Texas</place></state> were often all-inclusive. One of the smallest schools I attended was housed in a two story, brick building with a gigantic bell hanging from the entryway rafters. It was the same school that my parents attended in the thirties. My mother tells about riding a horse to get there with her older brother. He was fond of encouraging the horse with the ends of the reins and “accidentally” swatting Mother’s leg instead.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">At this school, the first and second grades had their own detached classroom, nicknamed “the dog house”. But the first floor of the main building housed combinations of all the other elementary grades while the second floor was reserved for the high school students. My first year there, I was in the fifth grade.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Although elementary students outnumbered the high school attendees, we were nonetheless admonished daily to keep our voices down – even at recess – lest we disturb those elite high school students who were diligently pursuing the quintessence of academia. What honor and respect we held for them, besides the fact that there were dire consequences for disturbing their peace. From their treetop position they could see the countryside with far greater clarity, the air was pristine, and even the raindrops fell first past their windows. We children in the hallways below were often reminded to “put on velvet slippers” so that our footsteps would become indiscernible to these older students who had worked so hard to get to where they were. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Then the bubble burst. It happened when my teacher asked me to return a book to the library which was, of course, upstairs. I ascended the final few steps on tiptoe. The landing opened into hallowed classrooms on either side of me. I walked slowly and scrutinized each sanctified class. In the very first one, mathematics, a student near the doorway slept with his head resting on his desk as drool trickled down his chin. I couldn’t believe it. I moved on to the history class across the way. They were discussing the upcoming rival basketball game. What? I also spied two giggling girls chewing gum in the English class, and when I finally made it to the library, the librarian was away from her desk. A teenage couple who were kissing at a back table didn’t even notice me. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I was crushed. For the educational tranquility of this elite group we were creeping about in our imaginary velvet slippers? Even at eleven years of age, I found this disparity of expectations unacceptable. The lofty circumstances above us had been overvalued by those in charge and at our expense. All of us deserved the best learning environment possible. The infamous velvet slippers should come off, but they didn’t because I was only one and a child at that.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Such childhood discoveries and awakenings to the real world don’t always stretch into the present and, more rarely, into our political culture. However, when I read in a major newspaper that, since 1975, the bottom 90 percent of the population has watched its income rise by only 10 percent while the wealthiest 1 percent saw a 232 percent gain, I assumed that the income taxes they had paid would have reflected such whopping income increases. Wrong. Currently, our tax system makes few distinctions among those in the top 3 percent. Households making $250,000 per year are subject to income tax rates almost identical to those who bring in hundreds of millions of dollars. As a leading weekly magazine put it: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">LeBron James and LeBron James’s dentist now pay at virtually the same rate.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">This is not an issue that should separate us along party lines. This is about everyone doing their part in this country we all love. <state><place>Washington</place></state> rhetoric aside; step upstairs into the realm of the exceptionally rich among us. Do you think they are really on a more cerebral, job-creating, moral plane that the rest of us? Some of the ultra-wealthy have actually voiced the opinion that they should, indeed, pay more taxes.<br />
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There is some hope in the Fairness in Taxation Act (H.R. 1124 and S. 552). These bills would change this inequity by creating a series of new tax brackets, starting at $1 million in income and going up to $1 billion. “There’s no reason to treat the wealthiest 1 percent of the country any more specially than anyone else,” stated Arizona Congressman Raúl Grijalva, a co-sponsor of the House bill, in a recent interview. “And right now that’s exactly what our tax system is doing.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">The way our political parties bicker makes fodder for late-night jokes and leading news stories. Parties have agendas and talking points. In actuality, citizens could make a difference by contacting their representatives and telling them to vote in favor of these bills. I am not one any more; we can all speak to this issue. What could we lose? Our own voice. What could we gain? Billions of dollars. Hopefully, they can work out the details.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">It’s time to take off our velvet slippers in favor of fairness. Snoop around for yourself.</div>Sharon McAnearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15098356101822323452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1442381849466674582.post-18434585626756537052011-02-13T08:32:00.000-08:002011-02-13T08:32:17.902-08:00I Got You, Lord<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">No pun intended, but I watched <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Groundhog Day</i> again this month. In the movie, Bill Murray’s character is perfectly obnoxious until he finally gets his life right by living the same day over and over, but learning from each rerun. Paying closer attention to his actions and reactions was tough for him and it is often the same with me. My heart might benefit if God reconstructed my learning curve in a similar format:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>every time I behave in a manner unworthy of my faith, I will wake up tomorrow and discover that it is today – again and again. All my tomorrows will be the same until I recognize each error of my ways and make things right. In other words, I might never make it past an existence of only a handful of tomorrows. On the positive side, I might have truthfully remained forever in my twenties.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Would it help if Sonny and <place>Cher</place> busted out “I Got You, Babe”, as in the movie, to consistently awaken us to our new selves <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in Christ</i>? Anything is possible. Just imagine the plethora of opportunities to be Christ-like that are offered us during the course of one day, and how many of those chances we either ignore or truly miss. That’s not even counting our bad choices of which we are fully cognizant. We are blessed that we don’t have to correct our mistakes before moving on to the next day. The option is left with us. You may be like me – clearly way too busy to add one more responsibility to any day. Besides, I have nurtured my bad habits and I am so comfortable with them. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">I get fed on Sundays and I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">try</i> to apply what I read and hear from sermons and study groups. I honestly mean well. It’s just that I forget. Would I make a more concerted effort to be like Him if I had something tangible to remind me of who I am? Now we’re talking. A hot pink rubber bracelet imprinted with WWJD might help – especially if I snap myself with it every time I mess up. I could benefit from a shiny gold cross dangling from a necklace every time I happen to look in the mirror. Maybe I would catch a quick reminder when changing lanes on the freeway if I displayed a simple fish profile decal on the rear window of my car. I could also suspend a tiny angel from that rearview mirror. My very last resort would be to have a scripture deftly tattooed around my forearm, just above my watch. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">Okay. I admit my premise is fantasy. Reality is much simpler than this early nineties movie, and outward symbols generally serve to declare our faith in Christ to others, not to remind us of our convictions. But don’t we have a genuine obligation to live up to the foundation of that relationship in all that we do from dawn to dusk? There are no rational guarantees that we will have the identical circumstances presenting infinite chances to demonstrate that we truly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">get it</i>; therefore, our reality is to do what is right starting today and in all of our tomorrows. A relevant line from an even more popular movie comes to mind:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Do or do not; there is no try.” ~ Yoda in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Empire Strikes Back</i></div>Sharon McAnearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15098356101822323452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1442381849466674582.post-43067966827980427492010-10-07T17:03:00.000-07:002010-10-07T20:39:22.654-07:00link to webpage<span style="color: #274e13;">Click here for the</span> <a href="http://www.sharonmcanear.com/"><span style="color: #660000;">Link to Sharon's webpage</span></a>Sharon McAnearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15098356101822323452noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1442381849466674582.post-17091936533721625802010-10-07T16:17:00.001-07:002010-10-07T20:39:23.142-07:00Sharon's Books & Video<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjamv8rXsCs7LGX_YtGZA3lopAyzAwJD_htnxlxAHglQuBqsaMsdNnjoZP64b8IVvGO_5XhChrqUBBPwdl1ZMdCE1GK7tx70xkOAfCcpkqQqDHjXHEOUOLBxwlHGRkTjN3B_ZRVnGTOvQ/s1600/cornerofblue_t2qd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjamv8rXsCs7LGX_YtGZA3lopAyzAwJD_htnxlxAHglQuBqsaMsdNnjoZP64b8IVvGO_5XhChrqUBBPwdl1ZMdCE1GK7tx70xkOAfCcpkqQqDHjXHEOUOLBxwlHGRkTjN3B_ZRVnGTOvQ/s200/cornerofblue_t2qd.jpg" width="130" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Book One</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;"><em>The Jemma Series</em></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-wC4cKM09WtLYjo-OYBpS_OH7CeCDYpNSniXMuoqTEYLXKkZVMdqfor6yKCnuYEkxFcgPgETTVKok6P_jRSWUmWHL6d9JMbuQWTiIs-ECZQ6ROPI6NWJTZl9ZQjosRv3uKZcVbPpU_o/s1600/inmybones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-wC4cKM09WtLYjo-OYBpS_OH7CeCDYpNSniXMuoqTEYLXKkZVMdqfor6yKCnuYEkxFcgPgETTVKok6P_jRSWUmWHL6d9JMbuQWTiIs-ECZQ6ROPI6NWJTZl9ZQjosRv3uKZcVbPpU_o/s200/inmybones.jpg" width="130" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Book Two</td></tr>
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Corner-Blue-Sharon-McAnear/dp/1602900647/">Click here to read the reviews on amazon.com</a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgjwsNK7adaGqJDyNOEbQ5xBcjoAh00O_S3jrcAUkxwft1MsseTN38LaURqJVWdXr_YZMePURBLeNOYnrYVG6H0ZEyd_uqwQkrFxCJiv-j9WfXfpWLihnOIkJzDhPoB7QmlGl-BkWXKf8/s1600/taste_of_gold_-_sharon_mcanear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgjwsNK7adaGqJDyNOEbQ5xBcjoAh00O_S3jrcAUkxwft1MsseTN38LaURqJVWdXr_YZMePURBLeNOYnrYVG6H0ZEyd_uqwQkrFxCJiv-j9WfXfpWLihnOIkJzDhPoB7QmlGl-BkWXKf8/s200/taste_of_gold_-_sharon_mcanear.jpg" width="130" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Book Three</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5hL6Q4EKKtFL0aJ_2dVwT7yh3nu00zGWMrIs2X9ayYpNB7Tr68HeYGibpWA2jLnbhj1pTmzi-Ek4w7lcM8t-WzLM5tLpIN9OFGM0-fckqMO1_PGTtkJHSG7skTkXFwlw1LBAbRgx_fs/s1600/dustoforion_s_num5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5hL6Q4EKKtFL0aJ_2dVwT7yh3nu00zGWMrIs2X9ayYpNB7Tr68HeYGibpWA2jLnbhj1pTmzi-Ek4w7lcM8t-WzLM5tLpIN9OFGM0-fckqMO1_PGTtkJHSG7skTkXFwlw1LBAbRgx_fs/s200/dustoforion_s_num5.jpg" width="131" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Book Four</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdIkGEW329AvklhTnm-1I7Xo5g_kmbT2FzDlYLdn3bM9zWZslzbebTAjdoBJt9F_63PBlHjMgvYHj3W7QQzXTUeDrmUeCoTRupudU28ajWmtW11DIPvA6JNZU4mmOKyz3MvV-64qu_EQ/s1600/blessthemoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdIkGEW329AvklhTnm-1I7Xo5g_kmbT2FzDlYLdn3bM9zWZslzbebTAjdoBJt9F_63PBlHjMgvYHj3W7QQzXTUeDrmUeCoTRupudU28ajWmtW11DIPvA6JNZU4mmOKyz3MvV-64qu_EQ/s200/blessthemoon.jpg" width="131" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Book Five</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwJXycWknbRQdFqRTvR9MS5HpWg1pVgUJRveCsxR4n1VF6H4IlZMzx1C5kQXNwX4LvR9_CnS17TbwEXjJQTnQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;">Press play to enjoy a free trip to the Texas Panhandle!</span></div>Sharon McAnearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15098356101822323452noreply@blogger.com2