Monthly Archives: August 2017

Jesus Loves Us…

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None of my friends of color are surprised by what’s happening in Charlottesville.  By contrast, almost all of my white friends are shocked that it’s 2017 and this is happening in our country.  The land of the free, the home of the brave…

I don’t believe that most of White America agrees with the alt-white, or the Nazi demonstrators carrying weapons and/or attacking the counter-protesters.  I do, however, believe that most of White America would prefer to not be involved.  They don’t hesitate to accuse their white brothers and sisters of being divisive or stirring the pot when we write about racism or talk about it.  The problem is that there’s no sitting this one out.  There is no “not getting involved” because it’s happening all over and the hatred is growing.  It’s palpable.  We all must take a stand for what we believe to be right and true in our heart of hearts.  Silence doesn’t only imply consent…  It is consent.  The irony is, that if more silent people would’ve spoken up long ago, we may not be all wondering what happened and where all of these haters came from.  Because, the truth is, they’ve always been here, they are simply feeling more comfortable to be openly hateful racists because the donald normalized it during his campaign and we, snowflakes, are still in shock that there are so many truly hateful people sitting next to us in our church pews, working beside us and living in the house down the street from us.

Polo shirts, baseball caps, khakis, screaming, “Blood and soil.  You’re not going to take this away from us!” while carrying tiki torches into the night.

For you are not a God who is pleased with wickedness; with you, evil people are not welcome.  Psalm 5:4

Recently, I had an old school friend share a rather offensive post on facebook attempting to shame anyone who says or does anything negative about the donald or his family:

GONNA VENT HERE. I have lived through Presidents Carter, Reagan, George H. W. Bush, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush and Obama. In my lifetime have I never seen or heard of a President being scrutinized over every word he speaks, humiliated by the public to the point of wanting to hurt someone, slander, ridicule, insulted, lied to, threatened to murder him, threatened to rape our Beautiful First Lady, and have his children also insulted and humiliated.
I am truly ashamed of the people of this country. I am ashamed of the ruthless, hating, cruel, Trump haters who have no morals, and news reporters who feel they have the right to purposely lie and do the things they are doing. Every other President after they were elected and took the oath of office were left alone, they weren’t on the news 24/7 being dissected by every word out of their mouth, ALWAYS BEING PRESSURED to do this or that and never being given the support to do the important work that needs to be done. ENOUGH is ENOUGH is ENOUGH, LEAVE THE MAN ALONE AND LET HIM DO HIS JOB FOR GOD’S SAKE!
If you agree, copy and paste this to your timeline and put your name under the last name:

My response was: “For real?”  because I honestly was surprised that this person would post this.  I’m shocked ANYONE would post this that has been living in this country or any country with newspapers or television, to be perfectly honest.  I mean, this is America, Land of the Free, Home of the Brave?  We aren’t living in a dictatorship, correct?  Mostly people agreed or “liked” my comment.  A few, however, tried to throw the sorry white evangelical guilt trip on me by commenting things such as:

“Let’s concentrate on being Christian, not the need to argue over things we cannot control. Passion is better spent in our children, families and community….”

and

“so sad you cannot express your opinion without being taken to task – but I guess that is what the world has come to”

SOOOOOO, I’m going to address these two comments, first.

Since when does being a Christian mean not being involved in social injustice?  When in the world did Americans begin thinking that speaking out and being involved in governmental decisions was ineffective and not Christian?… – These same people were defs not silent when Obama was in office!  Where were they spending their passion then?  I’m trying to spend my passion where God tells me to, so there’s that…    Also, I call white privilege, because it must be nice to be able to focus our passion on simpler things when we don’t have to deal with racism on a daily basis.

“Rescue the poor and the needy, delivering them from the power of the wicked.”  Psalm 82:4

“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.”  Proverbs 31:8-9

IMHO, if you post something to your facebook page that is political, you should probs expect that there will be others just as vocal responding, especially if it’s a shame post defending the least popular POTUS in the history of ever.  Probs…

Okay, now I feel a need to go through that obnoxious post (in red) that is apparently circulating through facebook.

Paragraph 1:          GONNA VENT HERE. I have lived through Presidents Carter, Reagan, George H. W. Bush, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush and Obama. In my lifetime have I never seen or heard of a President being scrutinized over every word he speaks, humiliated by the public to the point of wanting to hurt someone, slander, ridicule, insulted, lied to, threatened to murder him, threatened to rape our Beautiful First Lady, and have his children also insulted and humiliated.

I, too, have lived through the terms of these Presidents.  I’ve seen every single one of them bashed, scrutinized, ridiculed, teased, etc. over every aspect of their lives.  Carter was not tough enough, Reagan’s wife ran the show, George H. W.’s wife was a heartless witch,  Clinton was a skirt chaser, George W.’s daughters were party animals with no respect,  Obama was just pure evil (THIS was the POTUS MOST scrutinized and lied about, imho, and the man leading much of this was the donald, btw), mostly because he is black and not a white evangelical.  And when it comes to threats, in October of 2014, the Washington Post reported that “Since Obama took office, at least 65 people have been indicted on charges of threatening to harm him,”  as well as in “2011 a White House shooting occurred on November 11, 2011, when Oscar Ramiro Ortega-Hernandez, an unemployed 21-year-old man, fired a semi-automatic rifle at the White House.”  Reagan was shot in 1981. George H.W. Bush was not long in office when 16 men plotted to kill him with a car bomb.  Osama bin Laden attempted to kill Clinton with a bomb in 1996. Robert Pickett, an accountant from Evanston, Ind., shot at the White House when President George W. Bush was inside.  I have numerous memories of various past Presidents’ children and wives being ridiculed for being unattractive, bossy, manly, disrespectful, etc.

Here is a link that shows all of our former POTUSes who have been shot at during their terms:  http://timelines.latimes.com/us-presidential-assassinations-and-attempts/   I think it will shock you how common this is.

Paragraph 2:  I am truly ashamed of the people of this country. I am ashamed of the ruthless, hating, cruel, Trump haters who have no morals, and news reporters who feel they have the right to purposely lie and do the things they are doing. Every other President after they were elected and took the oath of office were left alone, they weren’t on the news 24/7 being dissected by every word out of their mouth, ALWAYS BEING PRESSURED to do this or that and never being given the support to do the important work that needs to be done. ENOUGH is ENOUGH is ENOUGH, LEAVE THE MAN ALONE AND LET HIM DO HIS JOB FOR GOD’S SAKE!

I am ashamed of the people who support this narcissistic man who has been married 3 times, speaks of his daughter incestuously, whose wife is of questionable character, imho, who we all saw on tape talking about “grabbing pu****” and has made his racism abundantly clear as of late, in case anyone was wondering.  There’s also Russia, the KKK, & White Alt affiliation, the outrageous number of firings and terrible hirings, as well as his numerous vacations on our dollar, and the list goes on, but there isn’t enough time for all of that now.  I’m pretty sure the guy with no morals is the guy in our White House.

New reporters purposely lying?!  Seriously, the donald is world famous for lying.  Our country is fast becoming a joke to the rest of the world because of his administrations regular lies, embarrassing tweets, and chaotic behavior coming from the White House since he took office.

Again, NO POTUS has ever been left in peace to do their job.  This is America.  We are allowed to speak our minds.  Our high governing officials are mostly elected, so we do have a say and we usually step up to that opportunity because we tend to remember and appreciate that some other places in this world are not allowed such privilege.  IMHO, the donald would love for us to be gagged while he and his alt-right cronies greedily take control of this country under the guise of making it great, again.  His great again was when the rich, white folks had all of the power.  Back then it was only great for rich, white men.  He plays off the fear and ignorant of many, playing the bully on the playground and too many fearful, and ignorant people think they’re on the right team, instead of seeing that they are just being used by the bully and all of his rich, white friends to make America great for themselves, again.

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.  It’s time for him to finally do some work for our entire country without a personal agenda that hurts the disenfranchised and moves our nation to a place of normalized fascism, where he justifies controlling the press because he’s convinced uninformed and paranoid people that the media is dishonest, where women are second class citizens, where there are no checks and balances.

If the events in Charlottesville don’t finally open your eyes, then I guess they probably won’t be opened.  I’m fearful for what this country will endure as long as he is the President.  Now, this is where some will tell me that if I am a good Christian, I won’t be afraid.  I wonder if people said this during the Holocaust.  I’m appalled that so many have supported this man because he claimed to be a Christ-follower and be against abortion because he will do nothing about the abortion laws and he obviously doesn’t believe all lives matter from womb to tomb, based on his violence-inciting language during his campaign and his term thus far.  Where is the fruit of his walk with Our Father?  Where is the love we should all know him by?

It isn’t un-Christlike to call out hatred or lack of fruit.  It’s wise.  It isn’t okay to not pray for the President and his administration.  It’s expected.  I pray for him.  I pray for his administration.  I do not hate any of them.  I stand against the evil that has been revealed.  I am called to stand for the disenfranchised.  I am called to love, but I am not called to be silent.  He calls us to speak for people with no voice and this doesn’t mean only unborn babies.

I would challenge you to visit a BLM meeting.  You will find, as I have, a group of human beings who are tired of being oppressed and simply want to be treated as if their lives matter AS MUCH AS everyone else’s lives.  They have all different personalities, just like any group of people.

I would challenge you to get to know SEVERAL people of color, and to NOT tell anyone you aren’t prejudiced because you have a couple of friends of color.  It’s hard.  I was terrified to say the wrong thing and be found out as the privileged white girl I have always been.  I’ve been married to a Hispanic man for nearly 30 years and I have bi-racial children with him.  My daughter-in-love is black.  I still struggle with my deeply ingrained prejudices at times.  This is a journey, a long journey.  I haven’t arrived, nor can I see the station, and that’s okay.  I am always working toward more understanding.  I am learning to listen more to my brothers and sisters of color and speak more to my white siblings.  He calls on us to speak for those who are oppressed and so I must.  We all must.  We mustn’t sit in our homes and close our eyes and hearts to what is happening in America to fellow Americans.  We must stand beside them and use our voices to speak for justice.  We must face our prejudices, go to Our Father in repentance, and begin the journey toward reconciliation.

Things are not like they’ve ever been in this country during my lifetime.  No matter what happens, I am a child of God.  One day I want to stand before Him knowing that when He called me to stand with His other children, regardless of the consequences, I stood with His love in my heart and spoke the words He led me to speak.  It would be easier to sit in my lovely little house and enjoy my lovely little life, but He calls me into discomfort in this passion He has placed in my heart.

We are all His passion and He gave Himself over to indescribable discomfort for all of us.  Jesus loves us this I know and there are NO exceptions…

 

 

 

 

 

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timshel

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Thou Mayest…

Freewill…

This brings SO many thoughts and feelings to my mind.

My tatoo

For a long time now, my youngest sons – twins, Caleb and Aaron – and I have been talking about getting coordinating tattoos. We discussed getting matching tatts, but decided it would be more meaningful to each spend some time praying about what our own personal version of that would look like. Ironically, Caleb was the first to decide – this is almost never the case. He is definitely my child. Almost every time we eat out, the rest of the group is waiting for Caleb and me to choose from the menu.   We are just not quick to make decisions when faced with more than a few choices. When you add the permanency of a tattoo to the equation, I am just about dead in my tracks. Making a decision about the placement, size and design of a tattoo on my body simply overwhelms me. So, a couple of weeks ago, when Caleb said, “Let’s go get our tattoos SOON,” I was overwhelmed with all of the decisions this was demanding from me. I did some research and began putting together what I wanted mine to look like. Caleb and Aaron decided that they wanted “timshel” in Hebrew. Caleb wanted his on his knuckles and Aaron wanted a larger font of the same on the side of his forearm. I have recently discovered I have a love for trees, and I’ve always known I have a passion for words, so I decided to combine the two and to my delight, I remembered that several of the original book covers had a tree on them.  Caleb’s color has always been blue and Aaron’s green, which is why I have the colored hearts/leaves on my tree.

              Related image       Image result for east of eden book cover tree

 

At this point you may be wondering what in the heck “timshel” even means, and moreso, why in the world would we all want permanent tattoos declaring this?!

I’d love to share the story with you because it is one of the ribbons in my life that I can trace back to my teen years in Byron, Michigan, where a teacher took the time to get to know me and recommended a novel that would have a great effect on my entire life.  Andrea Broaddus was not everyone’s favorite teacher.  She had a big personality and she called it like she saw it.  She often called me out, but because I knew she was speaking truth and wanted the best for me, I did my best, as a teenage girl with my own big personality, to take in her advice and make healthy changes.  I had just finished Sinclair Lewis’ Babbit and whined about how boring I thought it was and was just starting (and being a bit traumatized by) Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle when Mrs. B. suggested I read John Steinbeck’s East of Eden.  She told me that there were many references to biblical characters and the story of Cain and Abel, which only dissuaded me from reading it.  I had very little biblical knowledge at that point in my life and was in no way considering becoming familiar with the Bible anytime soon.  But, as I said, I trusted her to see things in me and for me, so the next novel I read that year was East of Eden.

I was a bit of a drama queen back then.  I typically liked to play the victim and give up when it concerned me.  I would willingly fight for the people I loved, but my knee-jerk for myself was to make excuses and give up, often blaming others so that I didn’t have to admit I quit when things got too challenging.  I was more a Cain than an Abel… or so I thought.

I was completely enamored with this novel.  I couldn’t put it down and then I wept big mournful tears when I finished it.  I prayed I would have a college professor who would assign it, just so I could read it again and discuss it with more people.

It never happened…

In my early-20’s I bought a copy and read it for the third time.  I also located a copy of the original movie version with James Dean, as well as the modern version with Jane Seymour.  After initiating my husband, I told him I would like to name our son, if we ever had one, Caleb Aaron.  He agreed.

A few years later, I was pregnant and we agreed that if this baby was a boy, we would name him Caleb Aaron.  And then Hannah Elizabeth was born, much to our absolute delight!  We each had sons from our first marriages and now we had a daughter.  We felt like our family was complete.  We scheduled the vasectomy when Hannah was just 2 months old and a week later my dear friend lost her 4 month old baby girl on the night of her husband’s vasectomy from a botched prescription.  The baby passed away in the daddy’s arms.  I was a hormonal wreck after having Hannah, so I immediately canceled my husband’s appointment.  In my emotional state, I was sure something awful would happen to our family if we followed through.

A few short months later, I began to feel awful – as if my previous morning sickness from my other pregnancies all returned in triplicate, and after doing 2 home tests that showed a pink line faster than ever before, I confirmed what I was afraid to believe because I had recently started teaching at my oldest son’s school – where I taught East of Eden, btw – and things seemed just lovely just as they were.  I had been baptized while I was pregnant with Hannah and I decided to pray for patience, much to my believing friends’ dismay.  They advised me to pray for wisdom instead, but it was too late…  I soon found out that I had “two buns in the oven,” as my OBGYN told us at our first appointment where she had a feeling and did an immediate ultrasound.

My pregnancy was fraught with trauma.  My dear grandma passed away in October just after she asked me which twin I was going to give her.  She meant this as a tease because she had all girls and she knew I was overwhelmed with having  2 older boys, a one-year-old and twin boys on the way, but I was sure that God was preparing me to lose one of my babies.  A week after her passing, my OBGYN discovered I had complete placenta previa and I was placed on home bedrest for a little over a month before I began to hemorrhage late one night and had to go to the hospital for the remainder of my pregnancy.  I was in that same room for 3 months, solid.  I was not even allowed to be wheeled down the hallway or stand at my window.  It was terrible because I felt fine.  It was also the most wonderful time in my life because I had SO much alone time with Jesus.  I was so confident of His leading in every step of that journey.  When I began hemorrhaging and they told me they were going to do an emergency c-section that morning, I knew He had us in His hands.  I truly believed I may lose one of my babies, and believed it would be Caleb, but I trusted Him completely and was as prepared as any mama could be to walk through this time to bring Him glory.  I don’t think I’ve ever had that much faith since that morning…

As they rushed me down the hospital hallways, the people on all three of our teams (Caleb, Aaron and I each had a team of medical staff for the delivery) introduced themselves to me.  As we talked, we began to realize that they were all connected to me in one way or another.  Some of them were aunts or uncles of students of mine, some were related to people we went to church with, or knew other family members of ours, and all of them it seemed, were Jesus-followers.  So, when we arrived in the delivery room, there were prayers going up all over the place for my babies.  Bob was sent to get washed up and change into his scrubs just after they gave me that horrible shot in my back (UGH!).  I laid back and remember feeling incredibly dizzy.  I was bleeding uncontrollably and for just a minute, they lost me.  When I came to, I had NO idea what was happening.  My husband wasn’t in the room yet because they had kept him out during my little crash.  I looked around and said, “I feel kind of awful.  Can you let my husband in here?  I just know I’d feel so much better if he was with me.”

Everyone chuckled.  We were both still clueless.  Then they let my Honey come in the room and I immediately felt better.  He gave me a play-by-play, minus the blood and gore, of what was happening with our babies and my body.  Both of our sweeties were struggling some and had to be incubated immediately.  Aaron was biting at the umbilical cord and Caleb was struggling to thrive.  After they took them down, my big, strong husband passed out cold into a chair I yelled for them to bring when I saw the look on his face.  That’s when the remaining staff told me how I had flat-lined for a minute because I had lost so much blood.

Disclaimer: I admit I was a bit disappointed that I didn’t have an incredible near-death experience with Jesus talking directly to me.  But I’m alive, so I’m good!

They wheeled me down to my room and would not allow me to see my babies until I could walk on my own.  Therefore they found me on my cold hospital floor 3 times before my husband insisted on a wheelchair to take me down the next morning.  They were the cutest little frog/chickens you’ve ever seen!  Caleb’s incubator had a little card on it that said, “I’m the oldest” and Aaron’s said, “I’m the biggest.”

We spent the next 8 days gavage feeding them my breast milk and trying to get Caleb to thrive.  Bob and I would sing, “Jesus Loves (Me) You” over and over in order to keep them awake to eat the 1-2 ounces they desperately needed to survive.  Aaron seemed much more healthy until they came to tell us that we could take Caleb home, but Aaron had a brain-bleed that they had to keep a constant eye on.  I remember running my thermometer under hot water to fake a temp so that they would let us all stay there together.  It melted and broke open.  So, I had to go home on the coldest day of that year with my teeny baby and leave the other one at the hospital.  It was torture…

The following day they told us we could bring Aaron home.  They said that since we had so much experience, he could go home for the weekend, but we had to bring him back on Monday to recheck and maybe be readmitted.  Our church family prayed over him and on Monday his bleed was gone.  The doctor did the test twice because he couldn’t believe his eyes.

One of my favorite memories of that time happened the day after we brought Aaron home.  Hannah looked at me with her hands up on each side and said, “Where’s the more babies, Mommy?”  She thought we were just going to bring a new one home every night, I guess!

We decided to name the boys, Caleb Robert and Aaron Patrick.  I was teased for naming them symbolic names for Cain and Abel many times, but I named them because timshel, thou mayest.  Caleb means faithful, devotion, whole-hearted, bold, brave and Aaron means lofty, exalted one, high mountain.  Caleb was one of only two people over the age of 20 to make it into the Promise Land.  Aaron was Moses’ brother, the first of the high-priests of the Israelites.

What I love about Steinbeck is that he doesn’t leave his characters one-dimensional or simply good or bad.  He shows us how God made us all with every possibility, if only we step into our freewill.  We don’t have to be victims.  We aren’t good guys or bad guys until we use our “timshel” to choose what to do and who we will be.  When I was embarking on adulthood, East of Eden was the beginning of my journey out of self-sabotage and it helped me parent just a bit better than I would’ve without it.

When my children were teenagers, I gave them each a copy of this novel.  I warned them that much of the story was harsh and even lewd, at times.  They’ve known since always that the twins’ names came from my love for this story and the effect it had on my life.  I never discussed the content of the story with them until their late teens or even recently because I wanted them to be who God made them and not be influenced by the characters in this novel.  The interesting and often disturbing thing has been how similar our Caleb and Aaron have been during various seasons of their lives to their character counterparts.  Sometimes this was so unnerving that I’d read it all over again so that the end of the story would comfort me and remind me how to encourage my children to develop all the facets of their personalities.  The beauty in all of it is that through this powerful work and the influence of God’s unconditional love throughout their lives, my little miracles have grown into confident, loving and Jesus-following men who make my heart sing (most of the time).  Of course they have struggles, as we all do.  I’m not claiming perfection, in any way, but they’ve embraced their freewill.  They are stepping into their own timshel and I am at peace knowing that because they are on this journey with Our Father, they will do amazing things in His name and for His glory.  I’ve always known He miraculously allowed me to raise them, and didn’t take them almost 23 years ago, because He has a great plan for them and my joy comes from watching them walk in His will.

SO… it was time.  We’ve been talking about getting “timshel” tatts for years, but I think we’re all finally embracing His unconditional love and trusting that we can walk in the freewill He’s graced us all with and take responsibility for our choices and our lives.

Timshel…

Caleb’s Tattoo:

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Aaron’s Tattoo:

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