Go Home and Love Your Family

"If you want to change the world, go home and love your family." -St. Teresa of Calcutta

By the end of today, about half of my friends will be happy, while the other half will be in despair. Most of us will just be glad the 2016 election is over. 

So what are we to do now?

Go home and love our families.  

 

What we do in our own house will affect the world more than what gets done in the White House.  

Raise your children with the values you were looking for in a President.  Love your spouse in a way that honors the institution of marriage.  Help your neighbor. Smile at a stranger.  Support those causes you have spent months arguing about on Facebook.  Volunteer at a homeless shelter.  Donate to an crisis pregnancy group.  Be an usher at your church.  Raise kids--whether yours or someone else's--who know that both lying and name calling are wrong, even if you are running for President. 

This country is made up not of political parties and platforms and debate answers.  It is made up of people and families and communities.  If each of us made an effort to make a difference in our little part of the world, the entire world would change, one difference at a time. 

So whether you celebrate or lament tonight, what happens tomorrow is up to you.  Go be the difference this country needs. 

I'm Talking Politics...

I may have to delete Facebook between now and November 9.  This political season is just too much for me.  About 50% of my Facebook friends are very conservative.  The other 50% are very liberal.  And 100% are convinced their side has to be right.  It's all black and white.  No gray.  And people are just mean and hateful and nasty to each other.

And, call me a rebel here, I disagree.  In my mind, there's lots of gray...because we're voting between two imperfect candidates, just like we always have.  I agree with some stances of each side.  I strongly dislike some things about each of the candidates.  I don't know that I see much black and white in this whole mess.

But I will tell you that I try my hardest to keep in mind my Christian beliefs when thinking about casting a ballot.  And if you ask me one thing I do know, it's that there is not a Christian party.  Jesus isn't running. Neither party aligns completely with what I believe.  And the next person who tells me that a person has to vote one way or the other in order to be a "good Christian," may get sucker punched.  (Though that's probably not something Jesus would approve of; but he was known to flip over a table or two in his day, so maybe...)

We have the right to go into that ballot box and vote the way we want.  Not the way our parents want. Not the way some evangelical pastor on tv wants.  Not the way the national parties want.  Our ancestors fought and died to ensure we have this right.  And that's something that matters to me.

Because of this, I don't have any time for people bullying others about how to vote.  Threatening me (or anyone else) with the line of crap that if we don't vote for a certain candidate we are a bad person or a bad Christian or a bad mother is just not acceptable.  It's not what American blood was spilled for.  It's not the dream upon which this country was founded.  This country is made up of those with different viewpoints and beliefs and priorities and I've always thought that is what makes us so strong.

So come November, I'll vote the way I see fit.  And I'll pray for the future of our country, regardless of who lives in the White House.  And, most importantly, I'll go home and love my husband and my kids and my neighbors and do my best to raise the next generation to be better than our own.  Because if we're honest, that's where we can really make a difference anyway.

Drawing Up a Play

Is it just me, or has the world gone off its rocker in the last month or so?  I feel like there is hatred and division everywhere.  Then throw in the massacre last weekend in Orlando and it's just all too much for me.  My mind can't wrap around what is happening and what in the world needs to be done to change it. I can't figure out how the heck I'm supposed be raising good kids in this mess.  If BB and LL were old enough to ask questions, how would I answer them?


And, fortunately, I'm not alone. I've talked to other friends who are finding themselves without answers as well.  I mean really good people who are trying hard to do their very best to follow Jesus, but feel like their heads are spinning right now about what that looks like in this current situation.  As much as I'd like it to be, I just don't think things are all black and white.

There's not a play in the book for exactly what to do here.  I need Jesus to have sat down with a dry erase clip board and some X's and O's to show me exactly where I'm supposed to be running and how to catch the dang ball on this one.

I think the best we can do is try to live justly and treat people right.  We can pray and read the Bible and go to church and love our neighbor.  We can do our very best to show people Jesus.

For me, I've decided that it looks like kindness.  I don't care whether someone is a Muslim or Christian or gay or transgender or has assault rifles in their gun safe.  I'm going to be kind.  I'm going to be respectful.  I'm going to treat them like human beings.  I will listen to those with different beliefs.  I will respect that they have the right to their beliefs, just like I have the right to mine.  I will mourn anytime ANYONE is killed.  I will ask God for mercy and healing and hope.

I'm erring on the side of kindness.  That's the play I've drawn up on my clipboard.

Because that's my best understanding about what Jesus would do.  And I may get to Heaven one day and find out that I'm going about this completely wrong.  But, as one of my very favorite prayers by Thomas Merton says, "But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you."

Lord, help us all.

No Stones from This Mama

I swore I would not blog about the dang gorilla.  But here we are.  (And I did manage to keep quiet about this whole bathroom debacle, so that's batting .500.)

Last week, BB managed to sneak a large piece of tape into his mouth and choke on it.  I have no idea how it happened.  The Boy from Texas and I were both in the room watching him, yet somehow, he pulled it off.  It was extracted after a lot of gagging and prying and tears from more than one party involved.

So when I watched another mother get absolutely trashed in the news and on social media when her child snuck into the gorilla enclosure, the first thing I felt was sympathy. 

Because kids are freakin' hard.  You have to watch those little people all the time and, sometimes, they still manage to do dangerous things.  This fact does not make you a bad parent.  It does not make him a bad child.  Bad, scary, crazy things happen to curious little kids.  Even those with really good parents.  You sign up for that when you sign the birth certificate.  We all do.  Good luck and Godspeed. Becuase you'll need it.

Sure, your kid might not ever wind up sneaking into a cage with a wild animal.  But I'll guarantee you that your kid is going to do something dangerous that you'd never expect.  Something that happens when you turn your head for two seconds that will scare the crap out of you.  If you have kids, it has probably happened in the last 24 hours.  If you don't have kids and think this will never happen to  you, get ready, sister.  You're in for a wild ride.

 Before you are quick to condem another mother, let's give a quick thought to Jesus' advice about casting stones.  Because I'll guarantee you, He'd have something much different to say to that poor mama.

So, go ahead and cast away your stones at this woman.  I'll be over here hoping my kid doesn't find something else to choke on tonight.  No stones coming from this mama, I'll promise you that.

The Justices and the Elephant

When Justice Scalia died this week, some of my Facebook friends made terrible comments. Words celebrating the death of another human because his politics and legal opinions were different than their own.

And then, I saw a picture of Justice Scalia and Justice Ginsberg together on the back of an elephant.  (You can see that here.)  I read an article where she called him her best buddy.  (Read that here.)  And if you know much about the US Supreme Court you know these two could not be more opposite. They rarely agreed in difficult cases. I bet they never voted for the same presidential candidate. And still, they were best friends.  They had dinners together, saw the opera together, and took family vacations with each other.  They were able to put politics aside and see the person. And that's beautiful. 

I have friends who are quite different than me.  Uber liberals. Super conservatives. Catholics and Jews and agnostics.  Some have no credit cards and others are in debt up to their eyeballs. They drive one ton pick ups, a Ford Prius, and some don't have a car at all.  They graduated from Stanford, from community college, welding school, and some barely made it though high school.  

And although they are not all like me, our backgrounds, our ideals, our goals....they are good friends. My life is better for knowing them. And I don't care if we never agree on a political issue, or if I never agree with someoene's judicial decision, they are a person and that is enough reason for me to respect them and mourn their passing. 

In my opinion, this is the biggest problem in our country today. We cannot put our politics aside and see the people. We cannot respect someone with different views. And because of this, we are missing the point. We are causing hatred and divisiveness. We are missing the chance to know great people.  

So whether someone's yard has a Hilary sign, a Cruz sign, or even (Heaven help us!) a Trump sign, we can respect them.  We can be kind to them.  We can mourn their deaths.  Heck, we can even befriend them.

Be like those two Justices on the back of the elephant.  That's that this world needs!

Worth The Read

Well, yet again, I've been too busy to keep up with the blog as much as I'd like.  I spent most of last week in the Hill Country for work meetings, and then over the weekend The Boy from Texas and I hit up his family reunion and then a wedding reception for some of our friends in New Mexico.  No rest for the wicked, right?

Black is slimming....unless you're pregnant.  Nothing is slimming.

Group photo at the reception.

In the meantime, thank goodness some other folks are blogging and writing excellent pieces for me to share!  Do yourself a favor.  Read these.

1.  Saying Yes To The Wait.  My friend Katy has done it yet again.  Any post that kicks off with my favorite Bible verse is bound to be good.  She did not disappoint.  We often hear about the idea of saying yes to God, in particular with regard to being open to children.  Katy discusses this from slightly different perspective....saying yes when God says you have to wait.  Anyone who is in a waiting stage should definitely read this post.

"Sometimes we say yes to God -- and nothing happens, at least nothing that we can see with our limited viewpoint. Sometimes we say yes to the wait. And, honestly, I think that is the braveryes....the one that is questioned by others (did God really call you to this city, this ministry, this life?) and sometimes even questioned by ourselves (is this really what He wanted?)

A yes to waiting, trusting and seeking joy amidst uncertainty.  A yes to future fulfilling of current longings and calling.  A yes to obeying even without seeing. A yes to vulnerability and hope and disappointment. A yes to change, growth and repentance. A yes to brokenness, struggle, surrender and pain during the wait. A yes to reminding yourself of God's goodness even when you do not feel it."
2.  It Ends With Your Warm Beer on the Table Between Us.  Meg Fee is one of my favorite writers---she's amazing.  This post is great for the single ladies out there who need the reminder she offers.... "It is not my job to convince a man to love me."  Amen, sister!

3.  Grace for this Season.  My friend April should have her own tv show.  No, seriously.  She's awesome.  She is super crafty, a great mom, does fun things on the weekend like family cooking challenges, and writes beautiful blog posts like Grace for this Season.  She looks back at a time during Bible Study where a girl opened her heart with a problem, only to be offered a Christian catch phrase of "It's just a season."  Now, April wishes that she could have offered her much better advice and understanding.

"Those Christian catch phrases might look good on the back of your mini van, but they do nothing to soothe a wounded soul."

4.  No One Else Is Going To Do It.  I can't really relate to Hannah's current situation--traveling across Europe with a class of teenagers, or her past living in Europe alone after college.  But what I can relate to is the idea that sometimes, adulthood slaps me in the face and I realize that if I don't take care of something, no one else will.  No one is going to clean up my mess or research my health insurance options or ensure my bills are paid on time.  That's adulthood, kids, plain and simple.

"Life is full of moments where things are going wrong and we don’t know what to do. I’m not bashing seeking good advice or help at all, as those are amazing things. But sometimes, stressing about what to do is so much more painful than just deciding that YOU are the one who needs to do whatever it is, and then doing it. Sometimes it is strangely easier to decide that no one else is going to clean this up, and then doing hopping to it."

5.  Supreme Court Ruling.  I have zero desire to get into a political debate on the Court's ruling last week finding state's bans on same-sex marriage to be unconstitutional.  ZERO DESIRE.  But as I've read and thought and prayed about this issue a great deal over the last several days, I've come across two articles that have done, in my mind, an excellent job pointing out the opinion I hold the strongest.  That we are called to be kind to one another.  That spewing hatred or condemnation or anger is not productive or helpful or enlightening.  We must love one another.  

My friend and Catholic blogger, Meg Hunter Kilmer put it this way in her excellent post titled #Lovewins.

"Whether you found yesterday glorious or discouraging, in the end Love wins. Our task is to live for that Love. Whatever side you’re on, drop your weapons. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. You want Love to win? Live like it."

Another blogger, who I don't know in real life, put it this way in her post "The Day that Love Won: A Response to the Supreme Court's Ruling."

"And while I have my own opinions of the Supreme Court’s ruling, you won’t find my support or my rejection voiced here. My reason is simple. It is not because I am ashamed of how I feel, nor because I am afraid. It is not because I lack conviction… because I have my own strong opinions of the ruling.

It is because I recognize that my personal convictions voiced loudly have the ability to silence conversations that I might have with people that I know. It is because I believe that one on one conversations are where hearts can be heard and where convictions can meet compassion."

It's Not Okay: My Thoughts on the Duggar Situation

"There are far too many silent sufferers.  Not because they don't yearn to reach out, but because they've tried and found no one who cares.”  ~Richelle Goodrich

I'm so over the news right now.  I find myself annoyed at what is covered, how people react, how the anchors think people should react based on what church pew they do or do not sit in on Sundays.  It's just maddening to me.  And I usually try to stay out of hot button type issues.

 But after hearing some of the statements made by the Duggars regarding the admitted sexual abuse (not alleged abuse) of their daughters by their son (not their accused son, the son who admittedly repeatedly abused young girls), I felt compelled to speak.

I was never sexually abused, thanks be to God.  But I had several friends who were.  Friends who suffered varying types and degrees of this type of awful abuse.  I had friends who pressed charges, only to see justice denied.  Friends who never uttered a word.  Friends who struggled with who to tell and when to tell and what to do.  Then, in law school, I interned at the Crimes Against Children unit at the District Attorney's Office.  I heard and saw things that no one should ever hear and see.  I watched children struggle to find the courage to stand up to their abusers.  I watched them feel guilty or judged or like they were somehow at fault or over reacting.

These experiences will not let me tolerate the Duggars' downplay the seriousness of sexual abuse.  "It's not like he raped them or anything like that" and "He only inappropriately touched them over their clothes, and sometimes under their clothes, for a few seconds."  "He is not a pedophile, he was only 14."  "He was really sorry and cried every time he told us about what he had done."  "He was just a little too curious about girls."  Comments like these made by the family make my blood boil.

Sexual abuse is sexual abuse, period.  One does not have to be raped to be a victim of this type of abuse.  And there is no 5 second rule that applies to make sexual abuse okay like applies to dropping a piece of candy on the floor.  It is not okay to sugarcoat or overlook or spin what this person admittedly did.  It is not okay to make his victims, or any other victims of abuse, feel like their abuse was not bad enough to be relevant.

Sexual abuse is never okay, and we should not pretend like it is.  We should not downplay its seriousness.  We should not take away the pain, shame, and struggles that victims face.  It is not okay, and I for one refuse to sit quietly by and watch this happen.

I pray for all victims of sexual abuse, may they find peace and healing.  And may we all support them in that endeavor.

I Will Remember

Last Sunday, we went to church.  We walked right in the door.  We sat in the pews.  Prayed.  Sang songs out of the hard-backed red hymnal.   "Oh come though long expected Jesus...."  We professed our faith. "I believe in God, the Father almighty, maker of Heaven and Earth...."  We stood as the Gospel was read.  We freely gave our tithes and offerings.  We listened to a homily given from a pulpit.  We shared aloud of own prayer requests.  We were blessed with the sign of the cross and told to go in peace.

At the same time, around the world, twenty one men were beheaded for their beliefs.  They were not able to sing hymns in church that morning.  They had no opportunity to place money in the offering plate.  Instead, because of their beliefs--the same beliefs that I hold so dear--they lost their lives.

While we repeated the Affirmation of Faith, they lived it.  And lost their lives because of it.

Today, as we celebrate Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent, I want to remember these men.  I want to remember all of those around the world who are persecuted, beaten, and martyred for their faith.  As I prepare to celebrate Easter, I know that remembering their story will change my heart.

When I don't feel like reading my Bible, I will remember.  When I feel too tired to pray, I will remember.  When going to church seems like a drag, I will remember.  When I want to curse, I will remember.  When I take for granted my freedom to worship, I will remember.

Pope Francis put it best.   "The blood of Christians is a testimony that cries out to be heard. It makes no difference whether they be Catholic, Orthodox, or Protestant. They are Christians! Their blood is one and the same. Their blood confesses Christ."

All Lives Matter

"There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." ~ Galatians 3:28


*It is with a heavy heart I take a break from the wedding recap to speak words that I just feel need to be said.  We will finish the last two wedding posts this week.*

You've seen the mantras.  The hashtags.  The rallying cries.  "Black lives matter."  "Police lives matter."  

But if you ask me, we are completely missing the point--and worse--furthering the agenda of hatred and divisiveness. 

Instead, why don't we focus on the idea that ALL lives matter.  Police. Young black men.  Single mothers.  Muslims.  The dying.  The homeless.  Gun owners. Vegetarians.  Cattle ranchers.  The mentally ill.  The elderly.  The condemned.

Perhaps if we all took this approach, the tragic deaths of people like Eric Garner and Michael Brown and officers Ramos and Liu would not occur.  Maybe we could avoid hostage sieges in Australia.  We would not have news stories about deplorable "interrogation methods" used against people.  There would be no beheading of Christians on Iraq.  We would not have to read headlines about death row exonerations that came too late. 

As we prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus, I think we would do well to recall that He became man to save ALL people.  That ALL people were created in the likeness and image of God.  And that it is ALL people who are part of His divine plan.

All lives matter.  Hashtag it, remember it, but most importantly, live it.

My Thoughts on Brittany Maynard and "Death with Dignity"

"Faith in God means we live with hope.  It means often times hoping even when it seems futile.  It means believing that God can deliver us, and often times, He will.  But it also means that at times, He may not, and if He does not deliver us in the way we desire, it means we still have faith and trust that his plan is perfect and He will make good of it all."  ~Chris Faddis, It Is Well



I wasn't sure if I should even write about this.  It's a controversial issue.  People are very much in one camp or the other.  But from the moment I read about Brittany Maynard's story, and for the next several weeks, I just could not get it out of my mind.



In case you missed it, Brittany Maynard was a 29 year old woman who was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer.  In light of this diagnosis, she decided to end her own life before the disease caused her the tremendous suffering that was certain to come.  She championed the phrase "death with dignity" after moving to Oregon, a state which allows physician assisted suicide.  On November 2, 2014, Brittany took her own life.



I want to start out by asking that everyone pray for Brittany's soul and for her family.  First and foremost, this is a tragic, horrible, unfair situation.  And I cannot imagine being in her shoes.  And because of that, I will not judge the decision that she made.  But, I do want to point out that another choice existed here.

I have watched several loved ones suffer and die from horrible illnesses.  My grandmother died of brain cancer at 67.  My college friend, Pink Boots, died of the same disease in her mid-twenties.  I watched Mr. Franklin wither away from Lou Gehrig's disease.  My family lost one of our own to lung cancer on one side and pancreatic on the other.  I know what suffering looks like.  Others do too, like those who loved Angela Faddis and Susan Spencer-Wendel and Morrie Schwartz, and those of us who read their books.



I know it is hard and painful and so unfair.  But I also know that God blesses during even the worst suffering.  I know that every single time I got to visit Mr. Franklin while he was sick--whether it be when he would drive us around in his golf cart or when he could barely whisper a congratulations on the phone when I passed the bar exam--I was blessed.  I know that I probably learned as much about life and love watching him die as I did watching him live.  I know that Pink Boots' friends and family cherished the extra time we had with her.  I feel certain that my mom and her siblings insistence on the importance of family was solidified in my grandma's hospital room.



And I can assure you, although they greatly suffered, each of them died with dignity.  They died loved, respected, and heroic.  I believe it is important to be very clear that choosing to live your life until God calls you home is not somehow undignified.  It is faithful.





We do not know how God will bless us or those around us.  It may be in mysterious ways.  Ways that we will never understand. And if we question that--if we take the plan away from Him and make it our own--people will miss out on those blessings.  We must remember that in the end, after even the worst suffering, God will be victorious.  There will be no more tears or pain or illness.  And that, alone, is dignified.



Please pray for Brittany, her family, and all those who suffer.

Just Too Much Sadness

**Tomorrow we will continue with the Advice for the Single Ladies series, but today, my heart is too heavy.**

"Where is God in all this?  Oh, he's up there.  Somewhere...shouting down that He loves us. Wondering why we can't hear him."  ~What Dreams May Come

Sometimes it feels as though there is just too much sadness in the world. Christians being beheaded in Iraq. Planes being shot out of the sky in Ukraine. Children slaughtered on a daily basis in Gaza. And now, closer to home, a beautiful teenage girl--one who reminded me so much of myself 13 years ago--has taken her own life.

Each of these senseless tragedies have made me acutely aware that we live in a fallen world.  A horrible, depressing, fallen world.  One in which answers may never come.

I do not know why. I wish the world were different. I wish people loved one another better and understood God's love for them and for others more.  I wish we lived in a place of peace and harmony and understanding.  But we do not.

Yet, we still have hope. Because this world is not the end of the story. God has promised us that. We are journeying toward paradise, where this pain and hatred do not exist.  Until then, we are left to make the fallen world a little better by our being here.

So maybe all we can do is hope faithfully and love fiercely and pray that God will use us for his glory.

Please pray for all of those suffering. And especially for the soul of sweet Clare and for all of those who loved her. May she and all the departed rest in peace.

Waiting for Your George Clooney.

"People take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness. Just because they're not on your road doesn't mean they've gotten lost." ~H. Jackson Brown

Everyone in pop culture land has been all yippy yappy about the fact that George Clooney is finally engaged.  It will shock no one that pop culture news is not much my style, but when I read this article, suddenly, I cared.

The woman that George is marrying?  Although I sort of figured her for some 20 year old super model, is actually 36 years old, a human rights attorney, author of a book on special tribunal practice, and she's fluent in three languages.

As the author points out, this lady went out, got an education, traveled the world, made a difference, lived her life, and her reward was a big ol' ring from George Freakin' Clooney.

Our society often gets it backwards, telling girls that they better hurry up and get married or else they will die alone.  I can't tell you how many times people have looked at me with pity because I'm 30 and still single.  I've heard it all.....you're not getting any younger, your eggs are dying, you'll definitely have to settle for a guy with a crazy ex wife, you should get a cat.....blah blah blah.  Screw that nonsense.  There is no timeline by which you have to find love.  And there is no requirement that you can't go out and be awesome while you're looking.

So this is a little note for the single girls out there....you dream big dreams and go get them without worrying that you will never find a husband.  If Prince Charming comes along when you are 20, great.  But if you get to wait a little longer, take heart.  Your George Clooney might be right around the corner.

This is a wholly unrelated picture of the Chihuly exhibit I saw
last year since I don't have a photo of George Clooney to share.

Saint John Paul II

“I plead with you--never, ever give up on hope, never doubt, never tire, and never become discouraged. Be not afraid.” ~ Saint John Paul II

I'm a confessed Pope John Paul II junkie.  It all started when I was tutoring some Catholic kiddos while I was in high school and one of them had to write a report on the then-Pope.  Without question, this is one of those small moments that had an enormous impact on the person who I am today.  A simple book report started what has now been over a decade and a half devotion to this Polish Pope.

This has continued for years and I always loved to hear reports of his speeches, I read his books, I watched documentaries about his papacy, I just loved it all.

I will never forget the days during which so many held vigil as he neared death.  I remember watching the coverage in my little apartment on Duck Street in Stillwater  in tears and, after it was done, going to a special service held at St. John's down the road to remember Pope John Paul II.  There, the priest gave each of us a medal that had been blessed by the Pope himself.  I still have that medal and it is one of my most prized possessions.

Fast forward to 2009 when I went to Rome and knelt before his grave.  I can't even explain that experience.  And then again last spring when I made a pilgrimage of sorts to his homeland of Poland.  While there, I saw his birthplace, the church where he was baptized, his apartment when he lived in Krakow, the pew where he most liked to pray, his clothing and books and kneeler at a museum.  Being there...walking where he walked, touching the kneeler where he prayed, sitting in the pew where he had done the same so many times....was amazing.  Then I flew to Warsaw for the specific purpose of setting foot in Victory Square because of the amazing speech that he gave there in the late 1979's, credited for being a huge part in the end of communism.  I've read books and prayed Novenas and taken pictures of anything containing his face in multiple countries.

Yesterday, Pope John Paul II was canonized--he became a saint.  ND Friend and I---although about 8 states apart---both awoke at 3:00 am to watch the ceremony live.  We stayed on the phone for 45 minutes until it was official.   I have to admit that I watched the entire thing with tears in my eyes.  It was perfect.  The Polish flags proudly being waived by the crowds, the beautiful ceremony, the Costa Rican woman who received one of the miracles presenting the relic. The pure joy as the crowds cheered the announcement that Joannes Paulus II was officially a saint.  It was something I will never forget.

Today, I loved that several of my friends commented that as they watched the coverage of the ceremony or read about the events, they thought of me and my love for him. What an honor that I would be remembered in the same thought as a saint.

I don't know why I feel the connection to him that I have for over a decade.  I don't know anything about being a saint.  I'm not even Catholic, just a little Methodist girl with a strong devotion to this new saint.

What I do know is that this man lived his life in a way that let others--like me--see God within him.

Maybe it is really just that simple.

St. John Paul II, pray for us!

PS--To read about other people's Saint John Paul II stories, check out this link up.

American Country Music Awards

At the risk of sounding like an 80 year old grandpa, country music ain't what it used to be.  There were several songs (and outfits) that made me sort of cringe watching the ACM awards on Sunday evening.  But there were a couple of winners in my book.

1.  Tim McGraw and Faith Hill sang "Meanwhile Back at Mama's".  I love them, I love this song, all good.

2. Blake Shelton and some girl from The Voice that I don't know sang  "My Eyes"  I do love me some Blake Shelton.  I think he's super good looking, hilarious, just enough of a bad boy, and I really do love almost all of his songs....with the exception of that stupid one about chewing tobacco and spitting.  What exactly was that crap about anyway?

 3. George Strait won Entertainer of the Year.  Do I really need to say anything here? He looked genuinely shocked. He kissed his wife.  He bragged on his fans.  Mentioned his family.  Thanked God.  And did it all whilst rocking a black hat.  Sigh.  That, kids, is why he's the King.

Prayers for Ft. Hood

Yesterday my mom called and said, "There has been a shooting at Ft. Hood."  I knew why she was calling.  Soldier Cousin is stationed at Ft. Hood.  Immediately, his little, dimpled, 20 year old baby face was in my head.

Fortunately, she went on to say that he was okay and that they were all on lockdown, but he got a call out to his mom and asked her to let the family know before we saw it on the news and panicked. 

Of course, my initial reaction was one of relief.  I was thankful to God that Soldier Cousin was okay.  That he was not one of the 4 people killed or 11 people injured in this rampage.

But as I watched the news coverage last night, I realized that not everyone got the call that my family got.  For 4 families, the call was the opposite.  Their worlds were turned upside down.  Their lives were changed forever. 

The truth is that life is fragile.  It can change in an instant.  We never know which of the phone calls we will be receiving.  The other end of the receiver could hold thankfulness or heartbreak.

So today, I ask that you join our family in thanksgiving for the phone call that we received, and please pray for peace and comfort who did not receive the same news on the other end of that line.

Just Because It's Not Happening Here...

"The most profound statement yet made about Auschwitz was not a statement at all, but a response.  The query: 'At Auschwitz, tell me, where was God?'  And the answer: 'Where was man?'” ~Sophie's Choice

I must admit that my initial reaction to any sort of foreign controversy is that we should stay out of it.  That it's not our business, that our soldiers should not be put in harms way when it is not necessary to protect our country.

But then, I went to Poland.  I walked on the ground where bodies lay in piles.  Through buildings where people were imprisoned, beaten and starved.  Into a gas chamber where thousands were murdered.  Seeing Auschwitz in person changed my life.  My perception is not--cannot--be the same after that experience.

And while I am certainly not saying that I believe that the US should rush into the middle of the ongoing foreign conflicts in places like Syria or Ukraine, I am saying that we must be aware of what is happening there.  Innocent people's lives are being ruined--and worse, taken--for no reason.  We cannot pretend that they do not exist.  We cannot ignore the horrors that are occurring.  We cannot turn a blind eye.

Because if we do, the nightmares of Auschwitz may become a reality yet again.  So while I am not sure what the right thing for our military to do is, I am certain that there is one thing we can all do.  Pray.

Pray for peace.

My Response

"Every you'll find us, loyal and true, to our alma mater, OSU."  ~Oklahoma State University Alma Mater

I really did not want to comment on the Sports Illustrated article that has put my Oklahoma State Cowboy football program in the national news.  Because there is a lot that I don't know.  I don't know why SI came after us.  I don't why the article's "sources" are all players who were either kicked off the team, failed out of school, or quit.  I don't know why the author, Thayer Evans, has some vendetta against OSU.  I don't know why Sports Illustrated does not feel the way that other sports writers feel about this quack of a "journalist" (and I use that term lightly).

I also don't know if any of the allegations are true.  I wasn't in the locker room or on the field.  But it sure seems like a lot of the guys that were there have something to say (and it's not what you'll read in Sports Illustrated).  I did have class with some athletes--I sat next to John Lucas in speech and can tell you he was there every day and gave every speech that the rest of us gave.  A lineman was in my ag econ class, and he, too, showed up to class every day.  If those guys are a representation of the program, I'd say that the truth will not look much like the magazine article.

Another thing I don't know is why the article includes mentions of Cowboys who are unable to defend themselves like Vernon Grant and Darrant Williams.  Vernon was neighbors with College Roomie at I at OSU.  He was a good person. A son.  A friend.  He was killed in a car accident back in 2005.  How dare someone drag his name through the mud now based on what seems to be a ridiculous, unsupported vendetta.  Shame on you, Sports Illustrated.  Shame on you.  Let him rest in peace.

Here is what I do know.  I know that the three years I spent at Oklahoma State University were life changing.  That while I was there, I created friendships that will last forever.  I know that we are a school that pulls together and takes care of our own, whether it be a plane crash, an illness, or a magazine article.  And that I got an education that allowed me to succeed in law school and in my career.  I know that there is nothing like being part of a sea of orange singing the alma mater on game day.  Except for maybe rushing the field after beating OU for the Big 12 Championship or seeing the winning field goal at the Fiesta Bowl.  I know that 60,000 people coming back to campus every year for homecoming speaks volumes.  I know that no matter where I am, if I am wearing my orange, someone will come up to me and say, "Go Pokes" because they understand.  I know that I saw Mike Gundy include Coach Budke's widow in accepting the Fiesta Bowl trophy with tears in his eyes--and that's a pretty good picture what we mean when we talk about the OSU family.  And that the people who have graduated from my university and those who live in Stillwater are some of the best anywhere.  I know that I am proud to have my diploma hung on my office wall and to wear orange on Fridays and to call myself an alum of Oklahoma State University.

That's what I know.  That's what important.  And that's why I'll ever be loyal and true. 

#Iridewiththecowboys

All That Crap

“Never concede to evil…. When we concede to evil, even in a small way, we feed it, and it grows stronger.”  ~Dave Wolverton, The Courtship of Princess Leia

 

I'm boycotting the VMA, Miley Cyrus, twerking, all that crap that's going on around it.  It makes me tired.  And sad.  And offended.  And angry.  On lots of different levels and at lots of different people.  And I feel like we just play into all the madness when we continue talking about it and posting pictures of it.  The world, our culture, our values, kinda suck.

 

But then last week someone on Facebook shared this letter that a dad wrote to his son.  And I couldn't help but think that THIS is how we should be dealing with these type of situations.  This is how we can overcome the sucky culture that we live in where these things happen.  By teaching our kids that these things are not acceptable.  That they are not cool or expected or manly or okay.  And that if our children do them, we'll "kick their butt up and down the street."  If we could do that successfully, maybe the next generation could fix some of the problems that ours has created.

 

No, I don't have a son, but SuperMom does, and he's too cute not to
be featured on multiple blogs multiple days out of the week.

 

Anyway, enough of my soap box.  Here is my favorite part of the letter.

 

 

"Listen, son, don’t let the world tell you how to be a man. They don’t know anything about the subject.

Men are loyal. Men are honest. Men respect and honor women. A man goes out and finds one woman, and he vows to protect and love her for the rest of his life. A man would never betray that vow. Even the weakest and most cowardly man — if he is a man at all — would die for the woman he loves. Your dad is no hero, but let someone try to hurt your mom and watch him suddenly turn into Superman (or Batman, whichever you prefer).

See, son, you don’t have to be big and strong to be a man, although I think you will be one day. You don’t have to be “cool” or athletic. You don’t have to play guitar or fix cars. These are all fine things, but they don’t define a man. ...

A man is defined by how he treats women, by how he keeps his promises, and by how he protects and serves the ones he loves. That’s what makes a man a man. My dad taught me that, he taught it by example. I pray I can do the same for you.

Oh, and by the way, if I ever catch you disrespecting women, I will sit you down and talk to you about it. But first I’ll kick your butt up and down the street. That’s a promise."

Prayers for Oklahoma

I spent three of my favorite years in Oklahoma, and although I am gone now, it will always have a piece of my heart. Please keep everyone who has been affected by the horrible tornadoes in your prayers.

If Runners Ran The World...

"If we cannot end now our differences, at least we can help make the world safe for diversity."  ~John F. Kennedy

As you read about previously, two weeks ago I was in Oklahoma City running a half marathon.  As I stood there that dark, early, cold morning along with 25,000 other runners and thousands of spectators, I couldn't help but think that if runners ran the world, it might just be a better place.

LOKG and me at the starting corral

As we stood there shivering in the cold (wishing that I had worn a hoodie instead of just my hot pink arm warmers), thousands of people gathered around the Survivor Tree for a sunrise church service.  Thousands of heads bowed in prayer, thousands of voices singing the words of Amazing Grace.  In that moment, denominations did not matter.  No one cared if you were Methodist or Baptist or Catholic or LDS.  No one cared whether you went to a church that believes in sprinkling or immersion  It did not matter what version of the Bible you had on your nightstand.  Because there, in that moment, everyone stood together.  Faithful.  Together.  Undivided.

Survivor Tree Service

The entire race was about those 168 people who lost their lives in the bombing 13 years ago.  There are no bibs numbered 1-168.  Those numbers are reserved.  There are banners with the name of each victim along the race route.  And at the starting line, when it became time for 168 moments of silence--one for each of the lives lost--25,000 runners turned off their iPods, stopped their nervous chatter, bowed their heads, and made not one sound.  When one man behind us tried to whisper during this time, everyone near him shushed him and he zipped it.  These seconds were precious and sacred, and they were not going to be disrespected or disturbed.

The 168 people killed in whose honor we ran.

After the silence, the singing and cheering and jumping around began.  Everyone encouraging each other, with statements like (my favorite from a nice lady near us) that no matter your time, you are beating the couch.  Beating the Couch became my mantra for the day!

And everywhere you looked you saw some act of support for Boston.  Red socks.  Green shoe laces.  Stickers saying that we all stand together.  T-shirts promising prayers.  All of these acts--no matter how small they may be--were a perfect sign of support and unity and defiance of acts of terror.

And as the race began, nothing changed.  We may have been breathing harder and smelling worse, but the same qualities that were seen at the finish were seen during the race.  When a man fell about two miles in, several of us stopped to help him stand up and get back on his way.  We did not know him, he was hairy and sweaty, we will probably never see him again, but in that moment he was one of us, and he needed help.  So we gave it.  No questions asked.

We waved at spectators (particularly those with signs like "Chuck Norris never an a marathon!" and "If Westbrook can play the 2nd half with a broken knee, you can run a marathon!" and "Keep going, keep going, that's what she said!"), encouraged each other, and thanked the volunteers with the water.  People with shirts proclaiming that they were fueled by beef ran next to those with t-shirts screaming vegetarianism.  This country girl with an iPod full of running songs by Miranda Lambert and Reckless Kelly shouted encouragement to a man running in a pink skirt.  OU fans and OSU fans ran side by side.  There were 25,000 people, all with different backgrounds, thoughts, political beliefs, all ran toward one common goal.  And that goal was achieved.

If you ask me, the world should take a lesson or two.  About acceptance.  About kindness.  About determination.  About perseverance.  About tolerance.  Heck, just about life in general.  If it did, it might just be a better place.