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Why I don't read "O Magazine"

I subscribe to a couple of magazines and read them on my iPad. One is a "geeky" mag, with trivia and history, one is a "woman's" magazine that has the usual mom stuff like recipes and how to save money decorating your home, and the other is a fashion magazine.

As I pulled one of the magazines up last night to peruse, I got an offer to try "O Magazine" for free for 60 days. No, thanks.

I used to get "O Magazine". It's really well put-together, edited well, great photos. It's substantial in size - you get a lot of stuff for the money. The writing is top-notch, and they use real women for models, which I like. But, no.

Why? It's the most self-centered magazine I've ever read. Everything in it is about "I". The focus is always on MY career, MY wardrobe, MY "best life", as O herself says. It's self-absorbed, self-centered, selfish.

Don't get me wrong: all of us need a bit of down-time to focus on ourselves. Moms especially need to remember that it's okay to take time to do some reading, have your nails done, go out with the girls for an evening. But all-me-all-the-time? Nope, don't need that.

I found myself, when I did get the magazine, thinking, "Is this what I want to be like? Putting myself ahead of everyone: my husband, my family, my co-workers even?"

That's why I don't read "O Magazine" anymore. I don't want to be that person. My "best self" is the self God made me to be: a saint, holy and righteous in His sight. That's who I want to be. Oprah wasn't making me that.

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I saw you
today
as you guided
your little man across that busy street.

You were wearing some
big man boots
and
watching cars and lights.

Your little man had on
black sneakers and
a Mickey Mouse hat
that bounced
as he walked.

He wasn't watching nothing but
your big man boots
and
the white stripes of the crosswalk.

Just before
he got to the sidewalk again,
his step bounced a bit
- he hopped over
a spot where the asphalt broke.

You turned to look,
holding out a hand to
your little man.
Not rushed or angry,
just making sure
he got up
on that sidewalk.

Then you walked on,
in your big man boots,
face into a cold Michigan wind,
with the little man behind,
his hat bouncing.