Confession: This Little Piggy Stayed Home

I grew up in Texas, the “Friendly” state. What some of you may not know about Texas is that “Friendly” is completely subjective there. There, you will generally find a few types of people; the “Bless their Cotton Picking Hearts” sorts,  the “You did NOT just say cotton picking!” kind, and the “I didn’t hear anything, I didn’t see anything and I won’t say anything,” people. And any of these, at any given time, could be considered completely friendly and even respectful in some circles.

I have, for one reason or another found myself in all of these three groups at least once in my life. Still, I find myself primarily in the “You did NOT just say that!” group. It’s not as cool as it sounds though. We have have our problems too. For instance, we are not always right. Sometimes the people we think are victims are the real bullies. We have to be very careful which battles we fight. And we learn, some of us more slowly than others, through listening, watching and being mindful of the circumstances that there are some battles we don’t need to be fighting at all. It is tricky too, because God says, “Contention is of the Devil.”  So when we do feel compelled to fight a battle we have to do it without fighting at all. Hmmmm. Here is where the confession comes in.

My name is Bianca, I don’t actually know how to fight a battle without  actually fighting. And…, yes I am going to say it… I  like to fight. I like to fight for the little people. I like to fight for what is right and good. And I came by it rightly too.  My whole family likes to do it. Just ask them. (But do it with your dukes up.) I’m sassy and I’m fierce and I love as strong as I fight. So for now, until I know for sure I’m just going to love. I’m going to love my God enough to burry my weapons, I’m going to love myself enough to set some boundaries, and understand my limits, and I’m going to love others enough to give them the benefit of the doubt, not pick sides, and comfort those who need comfort instead of focusing on who made them uncomfortable.

So when I was asked to help plan an activity for a particularly difficult group of women, I did what I was asked. I helped set up the venue with beautiful decorations that matched the theme, “This little piggy went to the Market.” I found speakers for the different piggies. I even helped cook the roast beef but, at the end of the day, THIS little piggy stayed home. Because the theme was “This little Piggy went to the Market”, NOT “This little piggy went to jail,” Ya’ll.  Just sayin. Always something to work on.