2012 Photo Review

Even photos can't adequately describe how full and blessed our life has been...is.  And it would take more space than I have, and more patience than you have, to tell you all that we've lived this year.  It has had it's struggles, of course.  I'm not one for reviewing things by the year, per se, but I can look back and see how God has made hard things, even bad things, Good for us.  On this earth, we should not be asking "why is there suffering?" but rather, "why is there so much beauty, joy, hope, love?"  I can only say that it is my faith in a God that causes Ultimate Good for His kingdom, which allows me to believe that only a loving God can overcome all the selfishness, violence & hatred that reeks all of our hearts.

I have had many thoughts swirling in my head, but almost too much to put into readable bits on this blog.  I don't make New Years' resolutions, nor resolutions at all.  But I do hope that I can keep working on my writing and share again, some of my thoughts with you.

So, here's our 2012 in photos.  It's a small way to share my life with you.

JANUARY

The boy is showing a musical inclination and starts teaching himself on his 3/4 size Yamaha, not just "air guitar" on a toy, like when he was little. 

 

The boy loves snow. At the first forecast, he's ready and waiting. Even if it's 7 in the morning

 

FEBRUARY

Not sure how this happened, but it was my birthday, but he got a new bike!

More treasured time with our host student from Korea, who counts oboe as one of her many talents.  Here, at District Orchestra.  In the 4 years, she's become our daughter and Boo's big sister. 

MARCH

 ... the returning hope of Spring

Chess club continues into Spring, and he ranks 2nd.

APRIL

Grandma comes to visit!

April flowers...

 

MAY

Science Fair project on Penguins!  Can you guess which is the real penguin?

...and an epic milestone college reunion! 

And we even went on a date!

 JUNE

Showing his Hopper-ish work (top.)  And the end (for now) of his 5-years at this Christian school.

 

...and the boy turns 10:

JULY

A month of camps!

Bible Camp with friends:
 

Hideaway Day Camp - the awesomest outdoor day camp around!

 

Environment Camp!

 

And a great story about his counselors, C&M:

C&M's grandparents were good friends with J's grandparents while at Penn State and were in the same field.  Then C&M's dad, and J's dad meet at a conference in their common field, and go on to become great friends.  C&M have known J since he was a baby, just arrived from Korea.  So in 2012, C&M were J's counselors!  They don't seem destined to enter the same field - C&M being interested in politics and J interested in architecture.  But maybe J could design them a house?

 

In between, an unusual but welcomed visit from Uncle Paul & fam from Lanna, Jo-jah!

Our beautiful gardens courtesy of HH, and Boo!

AUGUST

Many hours at the pool!  This year, with the encouragement of a friend, he tested to be allowed in the deep end, which meant hours and hours jumping off the diving board!

SEPTEMBER

Lots of excitement!

What has become our tradition - time on Cape Cod - this year during Labor Day week.

Through the years at Mashpee Commons:

 

Stand-up Paddle Boarding ("Supping")

 

(yes, that is my leg - just to prove I was there, too!)

AND the biggest changes of all:  HOME SCHOOLING!

PE at our home school co-op:

OCTOBER

 October may be the beginning of Autumn to you, but to Boo, it only means one thing: 

Fire Prevention Month!

NOVEMBER

For even Boo, November still means Thanksgiving:

but the best part isn't turkey, but being with grandma:

DECEMBER

2013

Hoping for elaborate, generous, abundant grace & peace.

Discussion Closed

Maybe I've had a rough week.  Or two.  Maybe how I'm feeling now is real and it's all the other times when I'm busy with busy-ness that I don't think properly.

I see a day when I won't be allowed to be a Christian.  In my lifetime.  Already, I am not allowed to believe what I believe.  Apparently, I, and my fellow conservative Christians, are prejudiced on the scale of the KKK for believing that marriage is for one man and one woman.  That is what I believe the Holy Bible teaches.  But then also, I see a dismissal of the Bible as some random book that Christians use to justify our hate.  Sure, that's been done in the past, the present and I'm sure will in the future.  For every and any Belief structure.  Ever.  Not just Christian.  But I am starting to see a dismissiveness about the Bible, that frankly I don't see about the Qur'an, the I-Ching, the Tripitaka.

Maybe because in our country, we have a Christian heritage, and there have been so many Christians in our paths that have disappointed or disgusted us.  Because we went to Catechism as children, we think we know what Christianity is about.  Or we see the radio or tv personality that spends a little too much time talking about homosexuals and not enough about the thousands of other topics we could grow in.  And I'm sorry for the spewing they have done.  The public shame and hatred.  So maybe it's the ole "familiarity breeds contempt."

Maybe we paint ourselves as closed-minded because we have a set of beliefs. And we paint ourselves as hypocritical because we can't follow our beliefs.  I know I can't follow what I know.  I can't even follow a diet.  Our worst offense, I think, is that we don't "accept all faiths."  (Although some Christians do.) I'm not even sure what that means.  If you are of a religion that doesn't believe Jesus is the Savior, how can you be accepting of Christianity?  If you're a Jew and you marry a Christian, how can you accept a religion that is waiting for the Messiah and one that already has one?  Unless of course, nobody really believes any of it.  Or.  You're constantly doing the figurative cocktail party version of religious dialogue.  You know,

"How's Ramadan going?"
"Oh fiiiin fine.  And your prayer wheels?"
"Oh great.  Couldn't be better.  Good seeing you!"
"Good seeing you, too."

I see a day coming when this country will join the approximately 40 countries where being Christian is not allowed.  Wait.  Let me be specific.  There are some countries where you are actually not allowed to be Christian or you'll be jailed, tortured and/or killed (Arabia, Iran, Mauritania.)  There are others where you can live there as a Christian, but puts severe restrictions (Algeria, Indonesia.)  You can have a Bible, but not in the native language.  You'd be jailed and/or killed.  And then there are countries where you are technically allowed to be a Christian, worship and talk about it but the persecution ranges from pressur to abandon it to attacks and killings (Nigeria, Laos, Uzbekistan, Turkey, Nepal.)

I don't think I'll ever be jailed or tortured for being a Christian here in the US, but I won't be allowed to maintain my religion without being ridiculed and labeled "hateful."  Oh wait.  That's already happening.

On Losing My Mother

My mother died in 1987.  As that time came back, I slowly remembered it was July.  I remembered it was hot; that I had to get there in a hurry.  Late July, I think.  It's July again, but 2012.  I do the math and, slowly, realize it's been 25 years.

25 years.

They waited for me to get there - Korea - from Boston.  That I should see her and say my goodbye.  But I couldn't.  When I got there, to their living room and saw the small, simple casket, I couldn't see her.  I couldn't stand the notion of someone lifting the lid.  My aunt encouraged me to see her; that it was important to fully understand that she was gone.  The man from the funeral home was there, ready to lift that lid.  But I still couldn't.  I collapsed on my dad's shoulder and begged him not to open it.  For me, I had no trouble fully understanding that she was gone.  That she was in that box, for 3 warm monsoon days, waiting.  Forever.

My good friend just lost her dad.  She is 42.  An adult. A grown-up.  Maybe it hurts more the more memories you've chalked up; the deeper understanding you have of what it is to lose a parent.  I was 27.  I don't know if it hurts less or more.  Not that it really matters.

I flew back, went through my days competently.  I had to find a job, and I did.  I interviewed well, showed up on time, did a good job.  But emotionally, I was needy and behaved inappropriately, blind to others' needs, blind to my own deficiencies.  I'd fall asleep in my new apartment, in my new bed, having put in a full day at my new job.  But every night, as if a clapping thunder had awoken me, I'd sit up in bed, my heart pounding, a dreaded sense hovering over my stupor.  Every night, for years. 

At some point, I no longer woke with a pounding heart or a sense of dread; I simply awoke.  At 11, 12, 2, 3.  For over 20 years.  I don't know if it had simply become habit or what.  I still have trouble sleeping.  Someone suggested that if I worked hard all day, I wouldn't have trouble sleeping at night.  Circumstances are such that I no longer have to see that person.  It's a good thing, too.

I was 27.  Just out of graduate school, embarking on a career.  I'd guess my mom would have been proud of me.  I don't know.  I do know that I never had the chance to get to know her as a grown-up.  Maybe 27 seems plenty old to some of you readers, but I know how young I was, how much I needed to grow, indeed, how much I would grow.   In painful ways I never wanted to.

A year or two before she died, she had a choice to go on vacation, or fly me to Korea to see her.

She chose the vacation.

I think the hardest part was growing up and realizing that I was not the most important thing in her life.  That by my mom and dad moving to Korea, not only did I lose my physical home, but I also lost my psychic dwelling.  I slowly came to realize the existential loneliness that philosophers over the ages have contemplated.  I.  I alone.  Separate and independent from my mother. Where do I dwell?

I sought a home at my brothers'.  At an aunt's.  At friends'.  All of them were fraught with awkwardnesses not of their doing, but as circumstances of our days.  Who could I turn to that was completely and totally on My Side?  Where could I "let my hair down" and rest?

In the letter to the Ephesians, the Apostle Paul writes, "I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being,  so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith."

And there I dwell and hope to, the rest of my days.

Educating Boo

Several years into our marriage we decided it was time to start a family.  We were older, and we had had enough years to get to know each other and enjoy our child-free time.  As I made my application for the Worldwide Pregnancy Club, I noticed some rules of engagement. 

When a woman enters that distinguished group, it appears that all the world is an adjunct member, whose opinions and advice is readily dispensed.  In any venue.  I saw strangers approach pregnant women and touch them, uninvited, in sensitive areas.  Even men, whose consciousness of social respectability and sense of decorum would prevent them in other circumstances, were seen reaching out to touch the extended sensitive areas.  I told my husband that I would wear a sign that said, "Don't touch me."

But it made me wonder what about a pregnancy allowed such behavior.  Pregnancy, the direct result of physical intimacies that these strangers would never broach, somehow entered the realm of public discussion.  Does the universal experience of child-bearing and child-rearing bear itself to become public property,  allowing for some kind of global membership?  Does the whole world become a member of the Board of Trustees for your pregnancy?  As offended as so many were by Hillary Clinton's It Takes a Village, I always thought, and still think, there is truth to the idea that we all affect each other and take a part in educating our children.

I've recently decided to home school my son. 

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I wanted to give you a few seconds to let that sink in.  Is your response in the same realm as what others have said to me?

"How will he get socialized?"
"Home schooled children are weird."
"You won't have any time to yourself."

[To be fair, I've had as many people say to me, "Only you know what's best for your child."]

There is something global, universal about how children are raised and I have found that the words "home school" is the equivalent of the extended belly which gives people permission to touch me in a personal spot, in public, uninvited.

All Ten

"And God spoke all these words, saying: 'I am the LORD your God…

ONE: 'You shall have no other gods before Me.'

TWO: 'You shall not make for yourself a carved image--any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.'

THREE: 'You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain.'

FOUR: 'Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.'

FIVE: 'Honor your father and your mother.'

SIX: 'You shall not murder.'

SEVEN: 'You shall not commit adultery.'

EIGHT: 'You shall not steal.'

NINE: 'You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.'

TEN: 'You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, nor his male servant, nor his female servant, nor his ox, nor his donkey, nor anything that is your neighbor's.'

Not that people these days even respect the 10 Commandments.  The basis that we can buy into, all over the world, the basis for justice in almost all realms, is seen as "religious" and contrary to public display.

Number 4.  That's a kicker.   Nobody follows that anymore.  Never mind that the Sabbath was made for us.  That WE would rest physically, spiritually, emotionally from the struggles of Life.  And rest in Him.  A hundred reasons why we go out to eat, stop at the grocery store, travel, golf and what not (thereby making other people work.)  Not the least of which that Commerce demands that we work on Sunday, either overtly because everything is open on Sunday now, or covertly because they try to squeeze every ounce of life out of employees.  But keeping a day of rest?  It's right up there with 'do not murder.'

Hey, me too!  Yes, I just have to get ONE MORE THING for lunch or dinner or Monday morning. I find all sorts of reasons why I can do the VERY things I believe I shouldn't.

There are 10. Ten.  You can pick and choose the ones you like, but then, don't think of them as the Ten Commandments.  Call it your own Thing.

Religion

Religion is:

"I obey, therefore I am accepted."

Christianity is:

"I am accepted through what Jesus Christ did, therefore I obey."

Religion gives you control.  You can do, say, be on your terms.  You do your duty or desire, you've paid your dues.  Now you can get what is owed you.

Christianity is all about what God is doing in me, to me, by His Grace.  Now He can ask what He wants from me.

Scary.

Truth often is.

He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed. ~1 Peter 2:24

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. ~Ephesians 2:8, 9

Finding His Way: Theology with The Boo

I was listening to NPR and they were talking about religion.  I love NPR, but when they talk about religion, it's usually what I consider the non-committal, embrace-the-world kind.  [Except that religion is about what you *believe,* which means there are things you *don't* believe.]  The woman they were interviewing said she didn't pray much anymore, but was "finding her own way."

Teaching Moment 101.

"Boo, when you get older, you'll meet people who say they are looking for God, but they are finding their own way..."

"But there's only One way, mom.  Jesus is the way."

I was proud of the brain-washing my church, his school and I have done.  Nothing is worth doing that isn't worth doing well, and all that.  Cuz you know, brain-washing is partly what good parenting is about.  [Chew with your mouth closed, wash your hair, clean your room...] If you let them "find their own way" as children, they'll get lost.  I wouldn't let him find his own way to the store let alone his own way to Eternity.  He may reject our faith one day, or find a different version.  He may say one day, "This is not the path I want," but he'll at least know that I knew the way and I carefully led him down the path that I thought was right.

"That's right, honey.  You don't have to look all over and get lost on your own, because the Bible tells us which way to go."

I continued, "Boo, way on the other side of things, you'll meet people who say you have to look for God a certain way, that you have to say certain words in a certain way in a certain place and tell you exactly what to do...."

He interrupted me:

"Like a bully!"

I was stunned.  Out of the mouth of babes.  Isn't it true?  Maybe everything you need to know, you really did learn in Kindergarten!  Or at least 4th grade.  My Boo has had a Bully in his class for the 3rd year in a row.  I would never wish this on my child, or any child, but here is where the Ugly has been transformed to Good.  My Aspie has learned what a Bully is.  Were it not for his [and my] suffering for 3 THREE three years, I'm not sure he'd know.

Bullies.  Bullies of the worst kind.  The ones that take the weak and the trusting.  The ones that blind you from Grace.  Not just the Koreshes and the Jeffs.  But also the more subtle; the ones that say your clothes have to be a certain color and a certain length; the ones that want to make God black & white and rules all over.

Moonie Wedding

I pray that you will recognize a Bully when you face one.  I hope you know that any God worth His salt doesn't boss you around and make you feel badly about yourself.  That a Good God doesn't bargain with you and make you do stuff to earn His love.



 

Finally...whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.    ~ Philippians 4:8

Nation and Culture

On the one hand, the United State has a dominant WASP culture.  The powers that be are still, on the whole, white Protestant males.  And many, I can say, think of America as being a WASP nation, and consider anything else to be, at best, suspect.  Why else is there the persistent rumor that Obama is a Muslim?  As if being a Muslim were proof that he is un-American. It wasn't long ago when being from Ireland was un-American.  Éirinn go brách.

On the other hand, we recognize the variety of cultures that make up this nation.  Melting Pot and all that.  These cultures could be ethnic heritage, national origin, religious practice, religious heritage and even variances of regional norms:

We may have been here for over 100 years, like the ethnic Koreans of Hawaii, or over 200 years like ethnic Africans brought over into slavery.  Or even recent immigrants like my family.  There are those, that on the surface fit the stereotype of an American but are clearly from another country, like Ahnold.  When I walk down the streets of my little town, I can't go but a block without seeing a black American woman wearing a burqa.  Even those that may not practice their religion clearly harbor the cultural norms instilled in them - like those who dress up for church on 2 Sundays a year.  When I went to graduate school in St. Louis, I was shocked at the regional differences in manners and speech from my Pennsylvania ways.  And anyone who has crossed the Mason-Dixon line will immediately feel the difference. 

And we're all Americans, right?  Different cultures, one nation.

Maybe the Melting Pot is only nice in concept.  NIMB: Not In My Backyard.  It's all nice to have "interesting" folks around, but don't make me have to smell their funny cooking, or try to understand their accent, or translate documents for them.  Maybe the Melting Pot is only nice if it looks and smells like mashed potatoes.

Today I heard that former Senator Santorum said, in effect, that if Puerto Rico wants statehood, they have to speak English.  He said this in Puerto Rico.  To Puerto Ricans.

I'll let you take that in.

(whistling)

I hope he knows there's no such provision in federal law.

[Oops, I think I'm breaking my guideline for succinct posts.]

A nation of monolinguals may, of course, consider language to be merely a flamboyance, like a fancy scarf.  Leave it in the closet, unless you want to make others feel uncomfortable or show your disdain for them.  Language is not a feather boa.  It's a ladder.  To your soul.  The more languages you know, the more you can know.  It's like love - the more you love, the more you can love.

On the one hand, Americans seem to be proud of the Melting Pot.  On the other had, Americans seem to insist that things melt into White.  Mashed potatoes.  Or would that be English?  Is English the line in the sand?  Stand on this side of the line and you're American.  Stand over there, and you're un-American.  Unpatriotic.

Must we be a nation of Either/Or?
Because me?  I want to be a nation of Both/And.
Messy.
Rich.
Interesting.

One nation, many cultures.

Did You Notice That Big Cross?

I've been reading a few articles about this Health & Human Services mandate requiring the coverage of birth control and abortions, as a matter of a woman's health and well-being, they say, even if it is against the beliefs of the employers, the Catholics, let's say.  I know there are many aspects - too many to count - to this discussion, but it made me think back to something in my life from a few years ago.

When Boo was 2, I looked around for a preschool for him.  I write "for him," but really, it was for me.  Almost any mother will remember those days of toddlerhood when your child needed every nano second of your attention, every ounce of your strength and squeezed every drop of your patience.  So I did my usual careful research, and with pen and chart in hand, I trudged from place to place.

I first went to the YWCA, wanting diversity most of all for him.  (Of course, safety was the most important.)  I made an appointment, full of hope for a better, more peaceful world.  It was located in a part of town with a large black and Hispanic population, many of them poor, in this part of town.  I saw the manifestations of their mission, to help parents who lacked good parenting skills - that is, children who "needed guidance," shall we say.  I decided against that culture for my son.  It broke my little liberal heart, but when push came to shove, my child came first.

I then went to the Jewish synagogue, looking for diversity of a different kind.  I expected and looked forward to little Boo learning about shabat and bitter herbs and the oil that lasted and lasted.  I knew he would not be learning about Easter.  In the end, I think it was some mundane issue like their schedule that lead me to move down my roster.

I went to a protestant church school that had a good reputation, supposedly the place to go for upper-crust townians.  It saddened me somewhat to consider the notion of his being surrounded by what I assumed would be white middle-class teachers and white middle-class kids.  There would be the blond moms in their mini-vans and Land Rovers, little kids wearing Gymboree with matching ribbons.  It was a nice building with plenty of parking, an adjacent fenced-in play ground, good adult-child ratios.  Well, I thought, what he misses in diversity, he'll gain in Christian education.

I asked the petite Caucasian director about the curriculum.  Don't get me wrong, we're talking about 2-year olds and I was not expecting a treatise on the End Times.  What she said, though, shocked me. 

"We don't teach religion here because we have families from all over and we don't want to offend them."  

Let me clarify that this is a program run by the church, not simply a nursery school that rents space.

When I went to the Synagogue, did I not think that there might be some Jewish traditions and beliefs presented?  Did I not realize when I went to the Y in that part of town, that the children would represent the neighborhood?  When I went to Penn, we had classes canceled for Jewish holidays but not on Good Friday. 

So I ask, did the people coming to this church school miss the big steeple with the cross on top?  Did they notice the big stain glass with the descending dove?  or the big sign that said the protestant denominational affiliation?  Should they be offended if the children do sheep and cross crafts and learn John 3:16?  So when ya go work for a Catholic institution, a hospital, let's say, didja miss the big statue of  a woman wearing flowing robes, or the bleeding man on a cross?  Have ya heard of the Catholic church? That they don't look kindly on birth control pills, abortion or divorce?

Alright.  Did you make that leap with me?  Were you holding my hand?  or did I let go somewhere in my writing?

How Can There Be Only One True Religion?

I couldn't have said it better.  Look here.

Dog Tail

When I practiced architecture, I did some public school projects. Public schools, being ummm, public, fell under the auspices of the state. The state requires many, many forms. Forms about building codes. Forms about how big.  How tall.  How deep.  And cost estimates. And the absence of archeological finds. And historic significance.

One of the forms required me to certify that I was, indeed, a Registered Architect. Architects are registered by the state. That same state required me to certify that I was registered. By the state.

Are you getting the picture? Or are you dizzy?

The other day, I was reading yet another story about an adopted person, now grown, being deported because the parents didn’t fill out the proper forms 30 years ago. This person was adopted legally as an infant by US citizens and lived in the US continually all her life. It reminded me that I needed to get an additional form for Boo.

In 2001, a federal law came into affect that adopted children automatically acquire US citizenship upon immigration.1   I did get Boo a US passport. You must be a US citizen to get a US passport. However, a passport itself is not proof that you are a US citizen. Soooo. I have to fill out and send this form, N-600, “Application for Certificate of Citizenship” through the Department of Homeland Security, US Citizenship and Immigration Services.

Take a breath.

Plus $600. Yep. So Boo can have a certificate proving that he is a US citizen. The citizenship that the US government gave him. That he has to prove. To the US government. Which gave him the citizenship.  For just $600.

Dizzy yet?

I can’t help but think of a little dog chasing its own tail, yapping and circling around. I feel like that dog.

 

I started to dig up some of the resentment I feel about the whole adoption process. If you are not familiar with adoption, you can feel free to be shocked. You’d think I would be grateful, right? Well I am grateful. But I’m not grateful for the heaping piles of humiliation and distrust thrust upon adoptive parents. Or maybe it’s just me.

See, I had to prove that I was worthy as a parent. That my husband was worthy. That my extended family was worthy. That we were neither criminals nor child molesters. Finger printed. Interviewed. That we made enough money by showing them our IRS forms for the past 3 years. Be threatened to terminate the process because of a misstep. We had to prove that our house was clean and safe. That we lived in a nice community. We had to explain our theory of child rearing and philosophy of discipline. On top of all the forms we had to fill out just for the actual adoption part. Then I had to argue with the pediatrician’s office that it is indeed a newborn checkup even if he isn't newborn and that I shouldn’t have to pay out-of-pocket for the exam. On top of all the checks that added up to 5 figures.

I thought ,"Why is it so hard??"  Why can some 16 year old open her legs and 9 months later the hospital just hands her the baby, but we, at 40, have to go through all this???  What is God trying to say?

And then it came to me.  Or, He came to me:

So then you are no longer strangers and ALIENS but FELLOW CITIZENS with the saints and members of the household of God 2

Yes! Of course! When you are borne, you are the heir.  Every nation, people and tribe recognizes that.  However, when you are not borne to, but a stranger and an alien,ow alone you are! How separated!  Even those who want you, to adopt you, must prove and pay, prove and pay again and again your legitimacy, your rightful place in their family.  I've read the text a hundred times.  I've contemplated adoption and the Kingdom for at least 8 years.  But it wasn't until that moment, when I saw how separated my child was from us, how foreign, that I saw a glimpse of how far we ourselves are separated from God.

God had to “prove” it, to pay for it with the blood of Jesus Christ so that we, as strangers and aliens could be adopted into His household, to be His heirs.

It's a complete circle for me, an adopted heir to His kingdom.

1 certain restrictions apply
2 Ephesians 2:19, NKJV

Open Minded

There are over 50* countries where being a Christian, or carrying a Bible, is illegal.  I'm just sayin'.


* I am looking for a good source to link to.  The particular laws vary, but essentially, it is illegal to be a Christian in these countries.  There are also countries where it is technically legal to be a Christian, like Turkey, but you are put under such cultural duress that life is very difficult (humiliation, rejection, etc.) including being killed.  Or like China, you can own a Bible but can be arrested for attending an "unapproved" church.

To My Non-Christian Readers

This is one of Christianity's "high holy days."  I hope that you will look beyond the dilution and silliness and petty fighting and garbage that goes along with this season.  And forgive us.

Can you see the beauty of Buddhism and Islam and Judaism?  I hope you can see the beauty of Christianity: the earthly birth of Christendom's god.  A young man and a young woman being obedient and submissive to their God.  Our King of Kings being born in humility, in a dirty, smelly stable.  Blood.  Pain.  Followers of every kind - kings and herders.  Foreshadowing His death.

I wish for unity in diversity.  I wish to set aside our differences and love each other for the human beings that we all are.  No, not agree, but appreciate.

I hope for all of you, that Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self-control descend on you.

My Love to you all.

~O~

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast."

- Ephesians 2:8-9

Human Bein'

All those moppets have equal value: whether bein' white, beige, tan, brown, athletic, handicapped, mute, blind, deaf, happy, sad, made in China or Macao.  I need know only this, that they are all made in the image of their Maker.

Once they start walkin' and talkin' - it's a different matter.  Born that way or made that way, they're walkin' and talkin' now.

I have the right and the responsibility to judge whether the walkin' and talkin' is acceptable, or not.  Acceptable.  (Loaded!)  We all do it.  Judge: Decide.  I see other moppets doin and talkin things I find unAcceptable.   They - obviously - think it is Acceptable.  I have the right and responsibility to differ.  But some of them moppets are startin to insist that I accept what they walkn and talkin.  Not very liberal of them.

According to them moppets, me a bigot bein'.

Triple O

I guess a post about God on a Sunday might be apropos.

I took a Philosophy class Freshman year.  It was like a lot of things to me: sounded good but didn't actually want to do the work, y'know?  I do remember a few things, including the frail, blond, mistachioed professor, who I am sure was always picked last for kickball.  He hunched his shoulders, held his left elbow in his right hand, left hand cradling his chin.

Rene Descartes and the "Triple O" God.

Omnipotent.  All powerful.    Check.
Omniscient.   All knowing.    Check.
Omnipresent. Ever present.  Check.

Got that.  Could this not almost be the same as Evil?  I mean, when I say God, I always think "Good."  Does anyone say God and mean "Wicked?"  If I'm going to worship someone, if I want some - Someone - on my side, then I think I'd want Good.

Unchanging.
Truthful.
Loving.
Compassionate.
Patient.
Peaceful.
Kind.
Forgiving.
Righteous.
Fair. *

And El-Shaddai.  There's a beautiful song made famous by Amy Grant.  The traditional definition says"God Almighty."  But there is thought that it's roots are in the word for breasts and fertility, in addition to the notion that God is the God of all things, who provides all and enough.  So the thought is that God is an almighty God, who gathers us to His breast, like a hen with her chicks, providing us all we need.  What a beautiful picture of Him.

And I want more than those three O's.


*Exodus 34:6-7

Need More O-s

Omnipotent
Omniscient
Omnipresent

The "Triple O" God a la Descartes. 

All powerful.  Check.
All knowing.  Check.
Ever present.  Check.

Patient?
Kind?
Fair?
Loving?
Righteous?

What is your picture of God-god-supreme being?  Do you know enough to know that indeed, you don't know?  That you can't know?  In my world, He is knowable through the Bible; His Word.  So I get the ideas of kind, patient, bears all things, righteous, compassionate from The Scriptures.

What is your picture?  Do you create your own vision and expect this god to fit into it?  Or is your god bigger than your imagination? 

If this god is high and wide and deep and beyond our full comprehension, then is there anything we can do to reach this Being?  Is this Being completely pure?  completely good?  completely just? Then can we jump high enough to reach this Being?  What can we do to be accepted?  Can we fast enough?  Bear enough children?  Give enough money?  Light enough incense?  Spin enough prayer wheels?

I contend that if God is God, there is nothing I can do.  Not the God that I know.

This God, must reach down to us: pitiable, little creatures.