Not a single rubber tip remains on any of the door stops. Surreptitiously, one-at-a-time, they have all been removed and discarded.
I don't know why.
I occasionally find one, shoved under a bed, or tucked at the back of a drawer. I replace it. I wait. I watch. And again, it disappears.
There will be no peace until each of the door stops are without tips.
I hear a lot about Tropicana fruit punch and orange cream-flavored foods these days. Many hours are spent in the pursuit of them: time on the Internet, MapQuest consulted to find the stores that carry the items-of-the-month. Driving time, shopping, more discussion, then eventually, me finding good homes for the items we went in full search of, but were never intended to actually be consumed.
I've been thinking a lot about the subject of intelligence. We live in a culture that throws around words like "stupid," "dumb," "idiot," "foolish," with much smugness and little awareness.
The message is strong, it is loud, it is constant, and it is offensive to me. High intelligence is good, low intelligence is bad.
There is nothing "smart" about making others feel "dumb."
There is nothing "intelligent" about letting everyone know just how "intelligent" you are.
I'm grateful to those that consider intelligence in a multitude of ways: emotionally, socially, spiritually, relationally.
I'm grateful to those that comprehend the Beatitudes.
I'm grateful that rubber tips and fruit punch have taught me more than anything.