I am 12 hours from having the first week of school "under my belt." The first day came off with a few bumps and bruises - but the rest of the week has shaped up nicely.
If you're not feeling political, this may not be the blog for you. I don't know that I am - but it is swirling around me and because I'm digesting it all myself, blogging about it seems fit. Or maybe I just want to have my say. Not sure.
I thought the conventions were interesting. I am, by nature and belief, a Republican - and that hasn't changed. I did catch Obama's closing speech and a bit of Biden. I am unimpressed with Obama on many levels. First, he's a democrat and we hold different things close to our heart. The second - I think Hillary said it best. "What are the specifics of his campaign?" Amen.
The RNC. I did watch this. I began voting 22 years ago (oye) and have been and always will be aligned with the Republican party. My first ballot was cast to non-other than Ronald Reagan. I still hold the Reagan's in high-regard. When President Reagan passed away, I felt it and wept with a portion of America.
I tried to be a democrat in my early 20s. It's just not who I am. Back then, I thought I just wasn't hip enough to live in that world. Oh, I tried. But it wasn't pretty.
Today, I know it's more than not being hip-enough. I am pro-life. Not a very popular thing to say in our world today. I don't wear it as a judgment - but it's very much a heart issue for me.
I am a huge fan of Barbara Bush. Wife of George, mom of George W., how can one not love her? Her first major platform as First Lady (and second lady) was literacy - "the most important issue we have." She's been outspoken. Even on things like abortion, stating during her husband's 1992 campaign - "that the Republican Party should not take a stand on it. Personal things should be left out of, in my opinion, platforms and conventions." Her personal views on abortion were not known, although her friends reported at that time that she "privately supported abortion rights" (ref. Wikipedia).
Interesting, yes?
Early on in the primaries, I read an article in Time magazine on the father's of the candidates. Mitt Romney spoke about his father - George Romney, who ran his own attempt at the Republican Presidential nomination in 1968. He was the Governor of Michican at the time - and part of the party's liberal wing. Those of today, especially those in the evangelical camp, know that Mitt is a Mormon. And so was his Daddy. Interestingly, 40 years ago, the 'religious' beliefs of a candidate never entered the political platform. I'd venture to guess that it's become a public issue in the past 15 years, but I could be wrong (and I don't feel like researching).
The "evangelical right" makes up 1/4 of the population's Presidential vote. John McCain, for anyone interested, is an Episcopalian. He attends a Baptist church in Phoenix (when he's there) with his wife. He is also firmly pro-life. I thought the following quote was interesting, based on his choice of VP-elect (Palin), whose Christianity is definitely being raised on the platform, I found the following quote:
"I believe that the Mormon religion is a religion that I don't share, but I respect. More importantly, I've known so many people of the Mormon faith who have been so magnificent. I think that Governor Romney's religion should not, absolutely not, be a disqualifying factor when people consider his candidacy for President of the United States, absolutely not." (interview with Dan Gilgoff).
Still intersting, yes?
I don't know that I believe "religion" should be a defining factor of why we vote or choose a certain president. It's definitely welcome if our candidate happens to be a Christian. The democratic party has (at least in my lifetime), always been pro-choice. And I am not. I can never vote that way - even if I supported the candidate. McCain is quiet about his faith. McCain was POW Chaplain - and enjoyed the experience (in context with being a tortured prisoner of war). He is quoted with the following:
"So, it's a very important part of my life. But, I cannot tell you that I've ever had a revelation from God--it's been kind of plotting. I pray, I receive comfort, I think I receive guidance, I know I receive guidance and I pray and it's, you know, it's not a spectacular kind of thing. It's something that I think is very lasting." (interview with Dan Gilgoff)
And in another piece in The Hill,
"Senator Thad Cochran, who has known McCain for decades and has battled him over earmarksm has expressed concern about a McCain presidency: "He is erratic. He is hotheaded. He loses his temper and he worries me." Ultimately Cochran decided to support McCain for president, after it was clear he would win the nomination."
Do I feel better knowing that the man heading our country is a man of prayer? I do. Does it matter to me that he's a hothead? Maybe. At the core, I am a fan of President Bush (jr. more than sr.), and I do believe he's a man of faith. Maybe more in line with mine than than the nominee coming behind him. And I'm okay with that.
Palin. Oh, the hoopla over Palin. She does make our ticket more attractive. And as a marketing move, it was smart. As a woman, I think its amazing to see her running for office. I do. And she is walking in a brand-new pair of pumps, that's for sure. I cringed during many moments of her speech. Maybe it was just the Alaskan in her and I've been in Washington too long. Sarah, if I weren't a Republican, you'd have lost me with the hockey mom/pitbull reference. Maybe it's just me.
Does it comfort me that she's being touted as an evangelical Christian? Maybe. She's too new and too uknown. John McCain has been thoroughly vetted over the past 8 years. Sarah, is still being vetted, I think. I am holding my final opinion until I see it all. She's under investigation in the state of Alaska for potential felony - the firing of the Commisioner of Public Safety. Allegdly, for refusing to fire her former brother-in-law (AK state trooper). Hopefully, the investigation rolls in her favor.
There are other murmurs of more 'scandal' - but hopefully they are untrue.
Once upon a time, I would have jumped on the wagon as soon as I heard that she was a Chrisitian. I guess I don't look through those lenses any longer. I need to know more about her. Her character. Who she is. What she believes. And her integrity. I hope to hear more about that in the upcoming debates - and I am praying for her. Those will be intense and tense days. And for the record, I really do want to get behind her. It's too soon. But as soon as I'm her die hard fan, you'll be the first to know. I really do want to like her as much as the rest of my circle does. I'm just not there yet. She's still making herself known to me.
Obama himself says he's a Christian. That doesn't mean a lot in today's world. There are people in low and high places, pastors and people alike, who wear the tag of Christianity, but behind the door, it means zero. ZERO.
Final words. I'm glad the Republican ticket is still pro-life. Hopefully anyone who has been concerned with my political stance, now rests easy. I am thankful for George W, who in 2003, put a ban on partial birth abortions, which is truly the most horrific of atrocities in the world of atrocities (b/c abortion itself is just that. an atrocity). If Obama comes into office, mark my words, that will be the first thing to go. The definition of "viable birth" will come back into debate and while some believe we will be free with a woman's right to choose, I think we will just be a nation who devalues life.
Vote smart. Do your research. Don't speak so loud that you can't be heard. Submit your opinions in a way people can hear them. And pray for our people - presidential nominees included.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
A few thoughts from here....
1. It's been raining a lot over the past week. I enjoyed the sun yesterday. I am not ready for the rainy season (330 days of it) to begin.
2. The Olympics are over. And I am sad. Enough said.
3. My daughter fell asleep at 6:30 pm this evening. I am hoping she makes it until at least 6 am.
4. School begins in one week. One more week until my little one is official a 3rd grader. May not seem like much, but I can hardly believe it. She'll be 9 in five months. Amazing.
5. Obama. He's a greeting card. With a loose-lipped running mate. oye.
6. My back is sore from 7.5 miles on Saturday. But it was good to see where I'm at. And 7.5 miles probably isn't quite it. A solid 5 would have suited me better. For now.
7. Church. I wrestled with going this morning. But was so glad I did. "When we feel unloved" was the sermon title. Everything the Pastor said resonated with me. Except when he said, "If God hasn't chastened you, then you aren't saved." I actually..............agree with that. But wouldn't have said it in those words. What about the newbie who hasn't had a struggle yet? I wondered how an "unchastened" folk may have felt with that statement. It took me back, but for once, I sat tall. "That's right, I have been chastened. And how."
8. I have a reality tv habit that I may need to kick. Admitting it is the first step.
:)
2. The Olympics are over. And I am sad. Enough said.
3. My daughter fell asleep at 6:30 pm this evening. I am hoping she makes it until at least 6 am.
4. School begins in one week. One more week until my little one is official a 3rd grader. May not seem like much, but I can hardly believe it. She'll be 9 in five months. Amazing.
5. Obama. He's a greeting card. With a loose-lipped running mate. oye.
6. My back is sore from 7.5 miles on Saturday. But it was good to see where I'm at. And 7.5 miles probably isn't quite it. A solid 5 would have suited me better. For now.
7. Church. I wrestled with going this morning. But was so glad I did. "When we feel unloved" was the sermon title. Everything the Pastor said resonated with me. Except when he said, "If God hasn't chastened you, then you aren't saved." I actually..............agree with that. But wouldn't have said it in those words. What about the newbie who hasn't had a struggle yet? I wondered how an "unchastened" folk may have felt with that statement. It took me back, but for once, I sat tall. "That's right, I have been chastened. And how."
8. I have a reality tv habit that I may need to kick. Admitting it is the first step.
:)
Monday, August 18, 2008
What makes us tick?
I haven't blogged in a fortnight. Maybe longer. Definitely longer.
S'been a long and interesting summer. For a sun-lover like myself, the weather was a welcome gift. And after yesterday's horrendous humidity, this temperature dip coupled with the wet stuff is welcomed as well.
I'm having a hard time jump-starting my blog machine - so maybe a little waxing of vague will help.
This summer has been one full of introspection and reflection and protection (spf 55, dontcha know!). We began with some endings in mind. Try as one might, sometimes, a thing just doesn't want to end. So we go on. With whatever that thing may be. Easy. Difficult. Draining. Beautiful. Painful. Bloody. All of that and more.
Our family has traveled this summer. Near and far. Physically and emotionally. Met with some milestones. Hopped some hurdles. Faced disappointments. Dropped some pretenses. Embraced reality. And tried hard to overcome it.
I'm learning to be silent. Listening. Learning. Not judging. Tossing out the way I need things to look. Putting on different sets of specs. And resisting the urge to analyze. Or understand. Or make anyone fit into "the box" I think God has for them. Because in the end, I'm not God.
I've been reading a lot of books and gained insight through the most unexpected prose. Some Christian authors. A few secular authors. And some food writers (no suprise there!).
One afternoon not long ago, I was lounging in a pool in the Arizona sun. It was hot. The water was warm. I knew from the feel of my skin that it was time to turn. Or go in. Or at least dip into the water. Instead, I just stayed. I just wanted to take in the magnitude of the quiet. The sound of the heat. I thought, "This must be what God "feels" like."
Here's what I've learned. Belief is not a noun. It's a verb. It requires action. Positive or negative - it requires action.
Belief for me has been many things - until recently, it had never been a verb. Always a noun. It was who I was. My definition. My rock. The rock. Judgment. Black and white. A generator of false pride and the need to belong to one of the largest country clubs around.
I still believe. And before anyone becomes too nervous, I still believe in God. And I attend church. And at the end of the day, I believe He is good. He doesn't always do what I ask. Or what I'd like. There are times that He seems to be deaf. His children are broken and bleeding and dying at His feet. For days. Years. He allows some of His other children to come in and do more wounding. I see it everywhere. Unbelievable, really.
I suppose that it's out of His love that God provides splints for the broken appendages. And bandages to stop the bleeding. Soft hands to cradle our splintered hearts. Medical care to help the sick and dying. A well-timed hug to remind us that we are loved. Testimonies of the kidnapped, abused and broken in far-reaching countries. The kindness of a stranger to keep us wondering if He really does hear.
As we meander into the September month, I'm thankful. Thankful for a God who doesn't rescue me from anything. But instead, makes me walk through each and every step of the process. Whatever is ahead of me, there is no easy route. Except straight through the mess.
I'm without words for something fairly new. But it goes something like this. I think my belief looks less like a huge mecca on the side of the highway with golden smiles, cutting edges and a country club mentality and more like a small rambler that's easy to find, comfortable to sit in and welcomes everyone who comes up the path. The mecca causes people to conform to what they think they should be doing. And generates a machine of judgment and pride. "See what we are doing? The mecca is reaching into the community. We are good."
The rambler is the community. And it never really realizes the magnitude of that. It allows us to just be real. We can open our bibles and share what God is doing. Or we can crack open a beer and watch a football game.
I think God is in both places. I guess it just comes down to how you want to live. I've done the mecca. And truthfully? I learned from the experience. And now, I'm doing the rambler. Or at least figuring it out. And believe it or not...God is right here with me.
S'been a long and interesting summer. For a sun-lover like myself, the weather was a welcome gift. And after yesterday's horrendous humidity, this temperature dip coupled with the wet stuff is welcomed as well.
I'm having a hard time jump-starting my blog machine - so maybe a little waxing of vague will help.
This summer has been one full of introspection and reflection and protection (spf 55, dontcha know!). We began with some endings in mind. Try as one might, sometimes, a thing just doesn't want to end. So we go on. With whatever that thing may be. Easy. Difficult. Draining. Beautiful. Painful. Bloody. All of that and more.
Our family has traveled this summer. Near and far. Physically and emotionally. Met with some milestones. Hopped some hurdles. Faced disappointments. Dropped some pretenses. Embraced reality. And tried hard to overcome it.
I'm learning to be silent. Listening. Learning. Not judging. Tossing out the way I need things to look. Putting on different sets of specs. And resisting the urge to analyze. Or understand. Or make anyone fit into "the box" I think God has for them. Because in the end, I'm not God.
I've been reading a lot of books and gained insight through the most unexpected prose. Some Christian authors. A few secular authors. And some food writers (no suprise there!).
One afternoon not long ago, I was lounging in a pool in the Arizona sun. It was hot. The water was warm. I knew from the feel of my skin that it was time to turn. Or go in. Or at least dip into the water. Instead, I just stayed. I just wanted to take in the magnitude of the quiet. The sound of the heat. I thought, "This must be what God "feels" like."
Here's what I've learned. Belief is not a noun. It's a verb. It requires action. Positive or negative - it requires action.
Belief for me has been many things - until recently, it had never been a verb. Always a noun. It was who I was. My definition. My rock. The rock. Judgment. Black and white. A generator of false pride and the need to belong to one of the largest country clubs around.
I still believe. And before anyone becomes too nervous, I still believe in God. And I attend church. And at the end of the day, I believe He is good. He doesn't always do what I ask. Or what I'd like. There are times that He seems to be deaf. His children are broken and bleeding and dying at His feet. For days. Years. He allows some of His other children to come in and do more wounding. I see it everywhere. Unbelievable, really.
I suppose that it's out of His love that God provides splints for the broken appendages. And bandages to stop the bleeding. Soft hands to cradle our splintered hearts. Medical care to help the sick and dying. A well-timed hug to remind us that we are loved. Testimonies of the kidnapped, abused and broken in far-reaching countries. The kindness of a stranger to keep us wondering if He really does hear.
As we meander into the September month, I'm thankful. Thankful for a God who doesn't rescue me from anything. But instead, makes me walk through each and every step of the process. Whatever is ahead of me, there is no easy route. Except straight through the mess.
I'm without words for something fairly new. But it goes something like this. I think my belief looks less like a huge mecca on the side of the highway with golden smiles, cutting edges and a country club mentality and more like a small rambler that's easy to find, comfortable to sit in and welcomes everyone who comes up the path. The mecca causes people to conform to what they think they should be doing. And generates a machine of judgment and pride. "See what we are doing? The mecca is reaching into the community. We are good."
The rambler is the community. And it never really realizes the magnitude of that. It allows us to just be real. We can open our bibles and share what God is doing. Or we can crack open a beer and watch a football game.
I think God is in both places. I guess it just comes down to how you want to live. I've done the mecca. And truthfully? I learned from the experience. And now, I'm doing the rambler. Or at least figuring it out. And believe it or not...God is right here with me.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Our family did the Torchlight 5K (Seafair in Seattle) on Saturday (7/26). It was a very low-key, fun and fairly festive occasion. Hope rocked it out (minus a few rough moments along the route). She and Lee finished with a big sprint...we were so proud of her!
We're leaving for Arizona in a few short days. Or a few long days. :) It will be so nice to get away. For so many reasons.
What a rambling post, eh? :) Not much to say - and so many words to say it in!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
This past four days have felt like 10 weeks. Seriously. The best part of my week, happened today as I walked out my workplace doors. I had miraculously snagged a front row parking spot. Remembering that fact and very quickly reaching my car (vs the normal lag when I'm in the north 40) was a beautiful thing. I almost had a jig in my step. Almost.Actually, I think the best part of my week just happened five minutes ago. Hope has a friend spending the night. They are parked in the bonus room with Ladybug (our cat), perched victoriously between them. Hope heard me peek in. I asked if she wanted me to move the cat, she said, "No, she wants to be part of the slumber party too." Crazy cat. And one tolerant girl. :)
Not much to say. No witty banter. I've been very thankful for our weather. Even the overcast days have been a nice break between "heat waves." There is much going on in my little life -- and much processing to be done. It's not a bad place to be - just a lot of work.
I am reading some fantabulous books. Lady of the Snakes. Searching for God Knows What. The Kite Runner. And a study on Ephesians.
So like I said.....my front row parking spot was a beautiful thing. And the highlight of my week. Next to Ladybug. Parking spot trumps cat. Every time. :)
Here's to Friday! :)
Monday, July 7, 2008
It's the Girl Scout Pledge....
:) Hope went to her first day of Girl Scout camp today. If you know my child at all (and many of you don't), we didn't go without much angst. And a small trickle of a tear. It's day camp. Hope is shy. And many of her troop were in the same unit she was. God blessed us with a co-leader whose daughter is shy and worry-laden as well. And a day of sunshine and good fun.
I prayed for her throughout the day. Waited for my cell phone to ring. And drove to pick up one happy, chatty Girl Scout pledgin' girl. She even has a speaking part in the finale' skit on Friday.
I wondered for a brief moment if I'd grabbed the wrong girl. I think Girl Scouts is good for her confidence. Or at least that's what we've been observing.
Tonight is VBS at church. Not the best laid plan...especially since I'm one of the snack ladies, but hopefully, it will be fun, go quickly and we'll fall into bed tonight like two tired heaps.
And find the stamina to do it 4 more days this week.
Hasta!
I prayed for her throughout the day. Waited for my cell phone to ring. And drove to pick up one happy, chatty Girl Scout pledgin' girl. She even has a speaking part in the finale' skit on Friday.
I wondered for a brief moment if I'd grabbed the wrong girl. I think Girl Scouts is good for her confidence. Or at least that's what we've been observing.
Tonight is VBS at church. Not the best laid plan...especially since I'm one of the snack ladies, but hopefully, it will be fun, go quickly and we'll fall into bed tonight like two tired heaps.
And find the stamina to do it 4 more days this week.
Hasta!
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Pain Tolerance
by Carla Barnhill
Why we shouldn’t rush our friends through difficulties
I like to fix things. Or, rather, I like to fix people. Someone comes to me with a problem, and I want to make it better—now. But lately, I’ve watched several friends live through terrible situations: crumbling marriages, failing careers, dying children, withering spirits. And I can’t do a thing to make them better.
I grew up in a Swedish family that didn’t do well with emotion, particularly “negative” emotions such as sadness, anger, frustration, grief. The Scandinavian way is to push through and do whatever’s necessary regardless of feelings. Added to that mindset is my generation’s belief that talking about a problem long enough will make it better. As if those propensities weren’t enough, I always want to be the friend who gives the best advice, who comes through and saves the day. So because of my Swedish instinct to run from pain, my Gen X desire to discuss a problem’s every nuance, and my chronic need to help, I tend to rush people through life’s hard parts. As I listen to these friends whose spouses are leaving or whose parents are sick or whose jobs are gone, I have to work hard to keep my mouth shut and my ears open.
My heritage, age, and personality aren’t the only factors that make patience with pain a struggle for me. My faith—at least, the Christian culture surrounding my faith—has done little to help me develop pain tolerance. And I’m not the only one. Anyone who’s gone through a difficult situation knows the least helpful words often come from Christians. When my friend suffered a miserable breakup and then saw a promising job offer fall through, the last thing she needed to hear was all this ickiness befell her because “God has something better in store.” Yet a well-meaning mutual friend told her exactly that. And it did the opposite of help.
Certainly, I believe God does have something better for my brokenhearted friend. And she believes that as well. But too often, we Christians use such phrases not to shore up someone’s hope, but to hurry that person out of her pain. We want to say something—anything—to stop her hurt.
When I try to fix my friends’ problems, I’m usually doing so because of my discomfort with their feelings. I actually handle my own pain better than others’ pain. Maybe because I want people to think of me as the friend who helped them the most. Maybe because I’m afraid I won’t have the emotional energy to be supportive for more than a few days. Or maybe because I like my friends to be happy so they can keep me happy. Whatever the selfish reason behind my efforts to make everything better, they’re about me, not my friends.
But when Jesus talked to people in pain, he didn’t push them through it. He walked with them as long as needed (John 4:1–26). He asked them questions (John 8:1–11). He shared their sorrow (John 11:1–36). In 2 Corinthians 1:3, Paul writes, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort.” God isn’t “the Father of constant happiness and joy.” Paul assumes life includes suffering and pain. Joy comes from having a God who cares for us and stays with us no matter what. I want to be that kind of friend. Not a friend who pushes or has all the answers, but a friend who listens and sits and comforts. I want to be a friend like Jesus.
Why we shouldn’t rush our friends through difficulties
I like to fix things. Or, rather, I like to fix people. Someone comes to me with a problem, and I want to make it better—now. But lately, I’ve watched several friends live through terrible situations: crumbling marriages, failing careers, dying children, withering spirits. And I can’t do a thing to make them better.
I grew up in a Swedish family that didn’t do well with emotion, particularly “negative” emotions such as sadness, anger, frustration, grief. The Scandinavian way is to push through and do whatever’s necessary regardless of feelings. Added to that mindset is my generation’s belief that talking about a problem long enough will make it better. As if those propensities weren’t enough, I always want to be the friend who gives the best advice, who comes through and saves the day. So because of my Swedish instinct to run from pain, my Gen X desire to discuss a problem’s every nuance, and my chronic need to help, I tend to rush people through life’s hard parts. As I listen to these friends whose spouses are leaving or whose parents are sick or whose jobs are gone, I have to work hard to keep my mouth shut and my ears open.
My heritage, age, and personality aren’t the only factors that make patience with pain a struggle for me. My faith—at least, the Christian culture surrounding my faith—has done little to help me develop pain tolerance. And I’m not the only one. Anyone who’s gone through a difficult situation knows the least helpful words often come from Christians. When my friend suffered a miserable breakup and then saw a promising job offer fall through, the last thing she needed to hear was all this ickiness befell her because “God has something better in store.” Yet a well-meaning mutual friend told her exactly that. And it did the opposite of help.
Certainly, I believe God does have something better for my brokenhearted friend. And she believes that as well. But too often, we Christians use such phrases not to shore up someone’s hope, but to hurry that person out of her pain. We want to say something—anything—to stop her hurt.
When I try to fix my friends’ problems, I’m usually doing so because of my discomfort with their feelings. I actually handle my own pain better than others’ pain. Maybe because I want people to think of me as the friend who helped them the most. Maybe because I’m afraid I won’t have the emotional energy to be supportive for more than a few days. Or maybe because I like my friends to be happy so they can keep me happy. Whatever the selfish reason behind my efforts to make everything better, they’re about me, not my friends.
But when Jesus talked to people in pain, he didn’t push them through it. He walked with them as long as needed (John 4:1–26). He asked them questions (John 8:1–11). He shared their sorrow (John 11:1–36). In 2 Corinthians 1:3, Paul writes, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort.” God isn’t “the Father of constant happiness and joy.” Paul assumes life includes suffering and pain. Joy comes from having a God who cares for us and stays with us no matter what. I want to be that kind of friend. Not a friend who pushes or has all the answers, but a friend who listens and sits and comforts. I want to be a friend like Jesus.
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