I am Benjamin from Brother’s Campfire.
There are times where you cannot take away the cringeworthy.
The other day, my daughter told me that she was missing her favorite pen. The last time she saw it was with her journal.
Like her father, she is an avid writer but uses cards and notes as a primary outlet of creativity. If you are anywhere in her circle, she has written you a note with a few thoughts jotted down.
I wrote quite a bit as a teenager and young adult and I have a box of notebooks that she is dying to read. They contain notes from sermons, notes for potential sermons and a lot of personal touchy-feely stuff. I am more than happy for her to have them as insecurity about them is fading.
Journals have value. If either of my children have thier eye on one, I pick it up. A quality journal can increase writing value in my honest opinion.
I believe this so much that when journals were not available for the offenders at work, we got approved vendors from the outside to obtain them. Writing has merit.
Anyway, as an update from a previous post, I received my evaluation and it was pretty good, describing me accurately.
My supervisor is amazing. She has provided a lot of tools for personal growth and development as I seek opportunities to step into roles that require broadened outlooks.
In one of our recent conversations, my supervisor explained the difference between equity and equality. I may write more about the topic sometime as I grow to understand this concept in an academic way.
My boss is the best I have had since 1997 when I got my first job and so has broad access to my Rolodex and any resources I have.
I gave a definition as Pixabay had no clue what I was talking about.
That all being said, I offered to get patches sewn on the bosses’ uniform.
In Colorado Springs, home of Fort Carson army base, the local dry cleaners have lots of experience in such things and I know a guy. My work has similar rank system and my supervisor is a captain.
Well, I dropped the shirt and patches off and went on to church.
I was sitting there praying when I was tapped on the shoulder to answer a question in the back about an usher concern.
My thoughts went to the lost and found. There was a journal!
I was sure it was my daughter’s and I told one of my friends.
He smiled mischievously and recommended that I write “I ❤️( boy’s name)” inside of it, then ask her about it.
It was a grand idea! In my best handwriting I wrote, “I ❤️” and put scratch marks as if I had crossed out a name.
I took the journal to the front where my daughter was and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Is this yours?” I asked.
“No.” She opened the journal somewhere in the middle and flipped through a few pages.
“This isn’t anything like my handwriting dad.”
“Oh, I thought you were missing a journal.”
“No, I am missing a pen. I have my journal.”
I returned the journal to the lost and found.
The owner or her father will be quite perplexed at the “I ❤️(name)” written inside.
We had a good laugh about it, but I am still very embarrassed.
Moving on, my connections had completed their work on my supervisor’s shirt and my Beloved picked it up.
They had sewn the patches on wrong!
Scrambling, I texted my supervisor.
You know, there are times where you cannot take away the cringeworthy and you just have to move forward.