Dear LFTP: the homeschooled alumnus and the 'nothing burger'
- I was homeschooled and now work for my hometown district; I cringe when mislabeled as an alumnus. How should I handle it?
A homeschooled K-through-12 listener with multiple master's degrees, now working for his hometown public school district, cringes when mistakenly announced as an alumnus and asks how to handle the shocked silence when he says he was homeschooled. The hosts call it an absolute nothing burger: nobody cares how many degrees you have, just pick a graduation year, and nobody is going to check the yearbook. Dan agrees it is a self-induced education-bubble problem. The Secular answer advises correcting the record with administrators, which the hosts reject: let the loudspeaker announcement pass, because the audience is just waiting for their turn to clap.
More on Grace
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Should following Jesus feel more comfortable as time goes on?
- Should following Jesus feel more comfortable as time goes on?
A host asks whether following Jesus should feel more comfortable as time goes on — noting the low-level tension many feel around am-I-doing-enough and the stigma that contentment equals laziness.
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Dear LFTP: the friend group's new wife
- How do we tell the husband that they are not invited, and who should deliver the message?
A host reads a second Dear LFTP letter: ten college-friend couples are planning a once-in-a-lifetime cruise, and nobody wants the remarried friend's demanding new wife on the ship.
From No. 592 · Because I Got High
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Dear LFTP: the $600 lawnmower and buying them a mower
- My nephew's wife took my $600, lied about it, and is avoiding me. Should I say something or let it go?
Mike reads a letter from someone who gave a nephew's wife $600 for a self-propelled lawnmower; she spent it, never bought the mower, and now avoids them.
From No. 587 · Coffee After Sunday
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Dear LFTP: the $900 couch letter
- My best friend and her son (about a thousand pounds combined) cracked my new $900 couch and want to bring more family over — what do I do?
Mike reads the second letter (same anchor/merge note): the writer bought a new house and a $900 couch; her best friend and the friend's son — 'about a thousand pounds' combined — audibly cracked it and now want to bring more family.