Treating people well always works out.
Especially in the commercial sense.
So I ordered a pair of shoes online from DSW, and I was debating on purchasing a regular or a wide calf version of these boots. I didn't want ones that were tight all the way up my leg, because tight boots then tight pants never seems to look good to me.
Since I was going for a riding boot style, I went for the wide style.
I got them last week, and they were too wide. Poo.
The post office closed in two minutes, so I grabbed the box, hopped in the car with Nate and took off. I addressed the box to the address on the invoice inside and sent it off.
Well, then I wondered about the address, since often there is a different return address. I had looked it up on my phone on the way to the post office, but there wasn't an address in the returns part of the FAQ page.
I kept looking and found a returns address, but you had to move from the mobile version of the website to the full site. And it was a different address.
I called customer service and the woman on the phone didn't even know the address that was on the top of the invoice, and she acted like it didn't exist.
Well, the shoes were delivered earlier this week but didn't show up on my account, so I called again. The person on the phone this time was very helpful, and after checking my tracking information couldn't figure out who had signed for my returns shoe box.
"We don't know where they are so we will just refund you the money."
Wow, that was it?
So, since they were extremely helpful, I purchased the shoes again, this time in the regular instead of the wide size, and I will tell people the wonderful experience I had. And I will certainly look for shoes from there again when I need them.
Customer service pays off.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Sunday, October 4, 2015
This is one messed up world
NoHatred. Cheating. Murder. Robbery. Assault. Scandal.
This world is one messed up world.
Starting in Genesis, we see sin enter the world quickly after its creation. This week's sermon was on sin entering the world.
In the Garden of Eden, the serpent tried to get Eve to focus on the one thing she couldn't have --- fruit from the Tree of Life. It's not much different for us today. Satan also told Eve that she wouldn't die if she ate of the forbidden fruit, same as he lies to us today about what is off-limits to us.
Eve started to roll around what the serpent had told her and decided nothing would happen to her, so she ate the fruit and gave some to Adam. Adam was there the whole time and did nothing to stop what was going on. He was supposed to be the guardian of the garden, but he failed to do his job.
This is still common today --- men in the US tend to step back and let their wives lead and suffer for their own mistakes. But the man is supposed to lead. He is supposed to be the guardian of his home and his family, like Adam was supposed to be.
So right away, multiple sins have entered the world. It wasn't just the act of eating the forbidden fruit. It was also the failure of Adam to do the job God gave him. There was commission of sin and omission going on.
So what do Adam and Eve do next? They cover up their bodies. They feel guilty and hide, when they should have confessed. That's what we need to make sure we do, confess our sins instead of hide behind a cover. Because what is slightly ridiculous is we think we can ever get away with our sins anyway. God is everywhere and knows everything. He always knows what we've done anyway, so instead of suffering with guilt we might as well fess up and go on with our lives and learn from our mistakes.
We have to remember before we sin though that it's not all fun and games. There are consequences for our sins. Adam and Eve had to leave paradise and we forced to toil and struggle for livelihood. Eve had to go through painful childbirth, and she was cursed to desire to be leader of her home but her husband is really to be in charge. All their children, all the children of the world, have to deal with Satan on Earth.
But we do have hope in sin. It's not going to go away I n Earth, but it's not forever. Jesus came to Earth and died as the ultimate sacrifice for all our sins and rose again to beat death.
Saturday, October 3, 2015
To talk or not to talk
I have always been an introvert.
Working in the journalism industry taught me how to ask questions and become a conversationalist, and my current job has helped me to keep up those skills as I work with volunteers and the public. However, I have to force myself to be bubbly and talk. If I chose, I would very rarely actually talk to people unless they are very close to me.
I have pretty much always seen my quietness nature as a bad thing. People laugh at the way that I like to stay home and ask me if I'm mad because I'm quiet.
As I was catching up on my Bible reading this morning, I was working my way through several chapters of Proverbs. I must say that this book about wisdom seems to encourage me to be myself instead of forcing myself to talk.
Over and over in Proverbs, it states that wisdom is not talking and folly is talking. What you say can't be taken back, but what you can't be faulted for what you don't say.
"Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble." (Proverbs 21:23)
"The wise lay up knowledge, but the mouth of a fool bring ruin near." (Proverbs 10:14)
"Whoever guards his mouth preserves his life; he who opens wide his lips comes to run." (Proverbs 13:3)
Remember, when your mother told you "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all"? Well, it seems like she was taking that lesson from the book of Proverbs. If you want to be wise, make sure you say only those uplifting, important, thoughtful words. Don't just talk for the sake of talking.
I think my dad is the ultimate master of this. My dad is not a man of many words, but when he has something to say, you had better listen. If he sits down with the intent of speaking, he has something on his mind and it is not just a random thought, it is something he has spent the time pondering and that he believes is worthwhile. That is a model we should all strive after.
Working in the journalism industry taught me how to ask questions and become a conversationalist, and my current job has helped me to keep up those skills as I work with volunteers and the public. However, I have to force myself to be bubbly and talk. If I chose, I would very rarely actually talk to people unless they are very close to me.
I have pretty much always seen my quietness nature as a bad thing. People laugh at the way that I like to stay home and ask me if I'm mad because I'm quiet.
As I was catching up on my Bible reading this morning, I was working my way through several chapters of Proverbs. I must say that this book about wisdom seems to encourage me to be myself instead of forcing myself to talk.
Over and over in Proverbs, it states that wisdom is not talking and folly is talking. What you say can't be taken back, but what you can't be faulted for what you don't say.
"Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble." (Proverbs 21:23)
"The wise lay up knowledge, but the mouth of a fool bring ruin near." (Proverbs 10:14)
"Whoever guards his mouth preserves his life; he who opens wide his lips comes to run." (Proverbs 13:3)
Remember, when your mother told you "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all"? Well, it seems like she was taking that lesson from the book of Proverbs. If you want to be wise, make sure you say only those uplifting, important, thoughtful words. Don't just talk for the sake of talking.
I think my dad is the ultimate master of this. My dad is not a man of many words, but when he has something to say, you had better listen. If he sits down with the intent of speaking, he has something on his mind and it is not just a random thought, it is something he has spent the time pondering and that he believes is worthwhile. That is a model we should all strive after.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
Baiting hooks and breaking worms
On a fishing day held for local students, I went to take some photos for work.
They ended up needing a little more help when the TK students arrived, so I stayed and partnered with a local DNR officer named Bob to help the kids cast and to remove fish from hooks.
I am not an experienced fisherman by any means. I go fishing with Nate, but that entails me bringing a book and going along for the ride to enjoy some beautiful weather. I haven't had a fishing license for a couple of years, because I get as much enjoyment from watching as I do from participating.
That lack of experience didn't exactly help me out today.
I took a child to the container of worms, and he picked one out to use as bait. I picked it up and tried to get it on the hook, but I couldn't get the hook through the slimy earthworm.
I turned to Bob, "I don't know how to bait the hook."
He came over and told me the worm was too long and promptly pulled it into two pieces...with his bare hands. He threaded the end onto the hook and left a little part to wiggle.
I took the pole to the water and attempted to cast into the water for the child, but the line caught inside the reel and I got about two feet, into some bushes.
"I'm less than no help at all," I laughed while saying to Bob.
He just looked at me like he agreed.
The next time a child needed help, I figured out how to release some line ahead of time to prevent it from sticking and got it in the water where it needed to be. I even grabbed a worm and pulled to break it into two. My hands slid off the intact worm that curled around, upset that I squeezed it.
I grabbed all my guts and pushed hard in the middle, pulling. It came apart! I dropped half back into the dirt container and squealed a little to myself as I threaded it on the hook and tossed it in the water, handing the rod back to the nearest child.
I texted Nate, "I'm baiting hooks and breaking worms in two."
"Atta girl," he replied.
I knew he would be proud of me.
The kid with the fishing pole looked at me, "Your hands are dirty."
I guess all comments can't be positive.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
The mom in the airport bathroom
I walked into the airport bathroom a week ago and slipped past a young mom dealing with her crying toddler.
I didn't think much about it.
Then I saw an older woman lean over quickly, put her hand on the small of the momma's back and say, "You're doing great. We raised four."
The woman smiled and walked out of the bathroom.
The moment this woman acknowledged the other mom, the younger woman's face softened. I didn't noticed how frazzled she had looked until I saw a sense of serenity and gratefulness come across her features. It was like she was visible and accepted. It was like the worry about how people saw her and how she was failing was erased.
All it took was a moment of acceptance, of encouragement, of understanding from a complete stranger to make this mom's day a little bit easier.
Imagine the difference you can make with just a couple of seconds and a six kind words.
I didn't think much about it.
Then I saw an older woman lean over quickly, put her hand on the small of the momma's back and say, "You're doing great. We raised four."
The woman smiled and walked out of the bathroom.
The moment this woman acknowledged the other mom, the younger woman's face softened. I didn't noticed how frazzled she had looked until I saw a sense of serenity and gratefulness come across her features. It was like she was visible and accepted. It was like the worry about how people saw her and how she was failing was erased.
All it took was a moment of acceptance, of encouragement, of understanding from a complete stranger to make this mom's day a little bit easier.
Imagine the difference you can make with just a couple of seconds and a six kind words.
Sunday, September 6, 2015
A photo on Pike's Peak
It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks, from traveling to Colorado to a huge festival at work. In fact, right now I should be cleaning, including the mound of dog hair that is lying at the bottom of the steps. I swear, Novie has turned into pig pen as fall starts to rear its head.
Instead of starting with cleaning, I figured I would blog for the first time in a couple of weeks.
We went to Denver to see Dave Matthews in concert, which was a lot of fun, especially for Nate. And the next day, we encouraged our friends to take part in some touristy activities with us.
We were sitting at the patio, eating a delicious breakfast made by our friend's wife, and started throwing out suggestions.
"What do you want to do today?" Nate asked.
"We could go to Boulder or drive into the mountains. We go do Garden of the Gods," his friend said.
"We could do Garden of the Gods," Nate said.
"I've never been there," his friend answered.
"What!? We've been there multiple times and we don't even live here!" I said. "We're definitely going to Garden of the Gods."
So, we packed into the car and headed to the gorgeous park outside of Colorado Springs, with its red peaks shooting up out of evergreen trees and wildflowers. It was a beautiful walk, although by the end by hands looked like my dad's --- sausage fingers --- from the altitude and heat.
Nate and I have a tradition of taking an annual anniversary picture, holding the picture from the previous year. So it's a picture in picture in picture. I stole the idea from someone on Pinterest.
Nate suggested that since we would be in Colorado a few days before our anniversary that we should bring the photo and take it in a beautiful locale. What better place to do than from the top of a mountain?
So we kind of forced our friends to join us on the touristy trip up Pike's Peak. We paid the outrageous amount to take the cog train up the mountain that afternoon, and it was a fun experience. However, my shorts and T-shirt weren't fantastic when we started to hit 12,000 feet. The air was crisp, about 40 degrees, and the wind started to whip through the train. Thankfully, my fantastic husband brought his sweatshirt for me to wear, because yet again, I wasn't prepared. Although he was cold, he let me wear his second layer.
We reached the peak, and floaty-headed, climbed down a few layers of rocks with our photo to get other peaks in the background.
Fresh-made donuts, a sleepy ride down the mountain, a drive home, pizza --- it was a wonderful, early anniversary celebration.
Instead of starting with cleaning, I figured I would blog for the first time in a couple of weeks.
We went to Denver to see Dave Matthews in concert, which was a lot of fun, especially for Nate. And the next day, we encouraged our friends to take part in some touristy activities with us.
We were sitting at the patio, eating a delicious breakfast made by our friend's wife, and started throwing out suggestions.
"What do you want to do today?" Nate asked.
"We could go to Boulder or drive into the mountains. We go do Garden of the Gods," his friend said.
"We could do Garden of the Gods," Nate said.
"I've never been there," his friend answered.
"What!? We've been there multiple times and we don't even live here!" I said. "We're definitely going to Garden of the Gods."
So, we packed into the car and headed to the gorgeous park outside of Colorado Springs, with its red peaks shooting up out of evergreen trees and wildflowers. It was a beautiful walk, although by the end by hands looked like my dad's --- sausage fingers --- from the altitude and heat.
Nate and I have a tradition of taking an annual anniversary picture, holding the picture from the previous year. So it's a picture in picture in picture. I stole the idea from someone on Pinterest.
Nate suggested that since we would be in Colorado a few days before our anniversary that we should bring the photo and take it in a beautiful locale. What better place to do than from the top of a mountain?
So we kind of forced our friends to join us on the touristy trip up Pike's Peak. We paid the outrageous amount to take the cog train up the mountain that afternoon, and it was a fun experience. However, my shorts and T-shirt weren't fantastic when we started to hit 12,000 feet. The air was crisp, about 40 degrees, and the wind started to whip through the train. Thankfully, my fantastic husband brought his sweatshirt for me to wear, because yet again, I wasn't prepared. Although he was cold, he let me wear his second layer.
We reached the peak, and floaty-headed, climbed down a few layers of rocks with our photo to get other peaks in the background.
Fresh-made donuts, a sleepy ride down the mountain, a drive home, pizza --- it was a wonderful, early anniversary celebration.
Monday, August 24, 2015
The joy of painting
Yesterday, Nate and I were priming the one side of the house that we have scraped, and I must admit I was starting to feel a little stressed.
It's not that painting is bad work, I rather enjoy painting. It's when I look up and see what we have done and think about how much is left. I know that this will be a job we will probably be forever doing, because if you only paint one side a year there will always be painting to do.
I heard Nate talking to someone, and then he came over with a smile on his face. Our neighbor is moving, and he had approached Nate to say good-bye.
"He said that he painted his house with his wife 50 years ago and they had a ball," Nate said.
"Was he joking?" I answered, assuming that this man was remembering the annoyance of painting a house.
"No, he was serious. He said we're really lucky to be able to do this together."
What a thought. When this man looks back on his life and remembers painting his house with his wife, no matter what he felt at the time, it's a cherished memory. It's these moments that someday I will look back on with fondness, and I appreciate having someone remind me that I should enjoy even these little times that I get to spend with Nate.
It's not that painting is bad work, I rather enjoy painting. It's when I look up and see what we have done and think about how much is left. I know that this will be a job we will probably be forever doing, because if you only paint one side a year there will always be painting to do.
I heard Nate talking to someone, and then he came over with a smile on his face. Our neighbor is moving, and he had approached Nate to say good-bye.
"He said that he painted his house with his wife 50 years ago and they had a ball," Nate said.
"Was he joking?" I answered, assuming that this man was remembering the annoyance of painting a house.
"No, he was serious. He said we're really lucky to be able to do this together."
What a thought. When this man looks back on his life and remembers painting his house with his wife, no matter what he felt at the time, it's a cherished memory. It's these moments that someday I will look back on with fondness, and I appreciate having someone remind me that I should enjoy even these little times that I get to spend with Nate.
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