Jack(?) & the Bean(?)stalk~

So I'm in the yard this morning, coffee in hand, waiting for our school bus w/ my daughter. I'm pulling a weed here & there, admiring what surely is the last day lily of the summer. One must know first, it's most unusual to have a day lily bloom (of this variety) past mid July. But here she is - "Brocaded Gown" in all her yellow, ruffled beauty.

And if that's not enough to pique my surprise, I find another curious delight...See, if it's unusual to have a bloom this time of year, it's almost unheard-of for new scapes w/ buds to show up! Imagine the surprise at my good fortune! This one will be "Jedi Dot Pearce," 'long about mid-September!


And yet, I've observed a mysterious vegetation growing like Jack's Magic Beans over the past week, & have had fun puzzling over its identity. (Look closely @ the first picture above, & you'll see its leaves poking into the background, top right.)

It's a robust thing that has begun taking over the bed. I'm of half a mind to whisper, "Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum," & start looking for itty-bitty boys amongst its tindrels. Just as I'm humming along with the rest of the rhyme: "Be it alive or be it dead...

...I'll have watermelon(?) with my bread."

~~

*Oh boy*

~~~

Thomas Edison's Broken Bulb

Went to another writing workshop today, friends.

I'm kinda getting used to the way these things run, & have learned to "go with" what strikes me. Today we were presented with a table full of postcards. We were asked to select one & write a travel diary entry that would represent its story. The card that "struck" me was a picture of a broken lightbulb. I knew why, even as I walked back to my seat, & could hardly get to my pen/paper fast enough. What flowed from my pen was not exactly what one would call a 'travel diary entry,' but I wrote "my truth" in the moment nonetheless.



Thomas Edison's Broken Bulb

Time crashes forward as waves in the surf. We are a remnant of life once lived, now drowning in bureaucracy, swallowing, sputtering, choking.

Will we find, on the slick coral, purchase to propel ourselves loose? Will we ever twist free of that which ensnares us?

Bureaucracy cannot, must not filter its tentacles into our lives so deep, such that we trap ourselves within our own collective power.

God help us! Prevent this suicide from on-high, from within.

Else, like the broken bulb - or Atlantis - our culture will lie in shattered ruin at the bottom of the ocean floor.


Yep. My truth.

I do NOT like the "new light bulbs" that the Federal government is forcing me to now use.

I do NOT appreciate the intrusion into my personal space, my home, my way of life. That should NOT be the government's role in American life, and I resent it. In my humble opinion, it's the beginning of that proverbial slide down a 'slippery slope' into a dark place in history, maybe even to the bottom of the ocean floor.

~~

Don't Tread on Me.

~~~

Prayer for Tuesday, Nov. 2

My friend Joe gave me permission to use this wonderful prayer. I offer it today as a means of supplication, as a path to meditation, as a way of finding peace in the midst of anxiety. Perhaps you'd like to join me?

Father, you have given us a great nation, a great land and a great responsibility.

As we prepare for Tuesday's elections, we ask for your guidance, your strength and your wisdom to select the people who will move this country in the direction intended by its founders, as revealed in their very writings.

Help us to seek Your will and Your way, to conduct ourselves with grace and aplomb so as to bear a great witness for you, even as we decide the direction our great land takes.

Whatever happens Tuesday, help us remember that You are in control, even when our finite minds cannot see You at work.

May we be submitted to You, grateful to You and committed to You without reservation.

It is Jesus' precious and wonderful Name that I pray.

Amen.

~~

...and amen.

~~~

Hey, what's the problem?

I've been over @ Z's blog . (She always has something going on over there.) Lately, the discussion was about outsourcing: actions which forced (or didn't force) American businesses offshore. Democrat/Republican policies? Unions? Corporate Greed? A commenter friend over there insisted that our troubles are rooted in the nasty, horrible monster of Corporate greed & the equally demonic Bush Trade policies. So I asked myself, and then him, what's the real problem in our country?

I'm no philosopher, but I did comment & offer what I believe part of the answer is, as to what's the "problem" in our country.

For better or worse, I feel like sharing today, so here goes:

This is a complex issue [why America is in the shape she's in].

I submit that, in part, the issue is one of expectations. The government REGULATES companies, to force them to 'clean up after themselves;' Unions get in lock-step - driving up wages (b/c 'Fred' can't be expected to actually WORK for such a small pittance). And then they EXPECT the Company NOT to respond by providing fewer jobs for people who EXPECT more $$$...

But now the 'worker' is entitled, see? (Because the Gov't/Unions/lawyers said so - "nyah, nyah" - AND b/c their kids HAVE to have the 3rd Generation ITouch, X-box 360, etc., etc.) After all, they're American kids & they're entitled, even if their parents can't afford it; and never mind if I can't afford my kids -- "I'll have another one if I want, b/c the Gov't will take care of me" (true quote in my office years ago), b/c I'M ENTITLED...

Right?

NO! It's insanity, this pervasive ENTITLEMEMT attitude - on EVERY level of our society! If corporations are guilty of greed, then they're NO MORE GUILTY than American GOVERNMENT, no more guilty than UNIONS, no more GUILTY than American Media, lawyers, no more GUILTY than families, than the INDIVIDUAL who brings home the millions, OR the INDIVIDUAL who covets the millions of the latter.

See, when you reduce it all down, friend...when you siphon off all the surface arguments, the irrelevant (but arguably important) issues...what you distill it down to the very heart of the matter, what we have is a SPIRITUAL PROBLEM.

We are a nation so far afield of our moral & spiritual center (aka GOD) that we don't even recognize that the LACK of God in our discussions is an issue, never mind the open HOSTILITY toward anything sacred. And the simple fact is, ultimately there's only one remedy...

I know, friend...your response is gonna be some schtick about 'separation of church & state.' Go ahead...you'll just prove my point further...

And now, we have a President of our nation-far-afield who drops 'under God' from the Pledge, and repeatedly eliminates 'endowed by our Creator' when quoting our Founding Documents...and yet, and still, almost half of our country asks, "Hey, what's the problem?"

That's (also) the problem.

~~~

(Anti)apology tour at Joe's

Hi friends~

Something has been niggling at the back of my brain...A few weeks ago @ Joe’s blog, he was entertaining a lively discussion about AZ Senator Jon Kyl’s visit w/ president BHO. Joe expressed his exasperated opinion about BHO’s political chicanery, and I agreed by quoting Joe in my comment. One would think that would be that. Well, no.

See, bloggers who’ve read any of my stuff, know my Christian world-view. I’m quite clear about it, & don’t even hint at apology (I hope). Sure, there are mockers & scoffers, etc. Only in Joe’s spirited discussion, one of the former fashioned her mockery into a weapon. She tried using my faith against me - to neutralize my ability to take a passionate stance on the issue of the day.

Were I younger, more naïve & eager to please, I might have acquiesced to the guilt laid upon me, apologized & hoped we could be more amicable. But not now, with the benefit of a bit of age under my belt, & just a smidge more maturity than I had @ 17. Or 23.

So, nothing-doing this time…The following is what happened (It’s what I’ve come to, & it might be just a little dangerous. But hey, ‘danger’ sounds like a nice middle name; he## of a lot better than ‘politically correct’):

Commenter:
I don't think "heaven" listens to people with such mean-spirited hearts and who denigrate God's creations.Whether you like it or not, Miss Susannah, Mr. Obama is God's creation. How loving of you to trash His creation from the bottom of your loving Christian heart. LOL!

My response:
Interesting, Joe. Some folks don't understand that being a Christian does not neuter one's ability to make assessments of character based on observable fact; that discerning character is neither an attempt to judge/condemn one of "God's creations", nor does it "denigrate" or "trash" the soul of said creation. It's simple honesty.

Folks like our friend here would rather Christians be weak, flaccid, impotent wimps who won't speak the truth for fear of being criticized or disliked. They'd rather we just shut up & go to church, or something.

Sorry, but there's a guy I've read about who made a big mess out of a Temple when he saw people doing wrong, & screamed at people - calling them what they were - when they made a mockery of Truth.

Call me crazy, but I'm guessing people wanted Him to shut up & go read the Torah or something. I'm also betting that Heaven was indeed listening that day - with a keen ear - and rejoicing.

And you know...I'm hoping against hope...I wanna be like that guy.

~~

Some day I want to be more like Jesus; more willing to act with a mind for defending Truth over defending my ego, with a heart for seeking Justice instead of self-preservation.

Folks can try as they might, pushing us back against the wall of complacent Christianity, but for those of us who are no longer wallflower Christians, there’s no turning back. And there will be no apology, either.

~~~

Of Mentors, Voices & What comes 'After this...'

Feeling the need to step out of the grind of politics for a few moments, friends. It does get rather grueling, no? Let's switch gears...

I am taking a delightful writing course taught by author Susan Woodring. In one of her recent blog posts she posed questions, "Who is your writing mentor? Have you ever met him/her?" After knocking this around, I offered a comment: "Distilling my answer to 2 'mentors,' they'd be Peggy Noonan and Beth Moore . Peggy for her deceptively 'easy' style that holds such beautiful wisdom, & Beth for the way my spirit responds to her 'teaching.' Wow."

While I've met neither of these women, I have had a snail-mail exchange with Beth Moore, because it was essential that she know how the Holy Spirit spoke to me through her. See, this piece of writing came to me partly as a result of her ministry. I sent her the following letter, along w/ a copy of that piece:

Dear Beth,

It was me.

We’re doing your Revelation series. Last week we viewed session 4 during which you quote Rev. 4:1. You stopped, looked into the camera and said, “‘After this…’ Somebody needs to hear this today: there is an ‘after this.’ You do not have to stay where you are.”

That somebody was me. I needed to hear those exact words from my Father, to be assured that ‘this too shall pass,’ there is an ‘after this.’

Beth, this ‘season’ has been a very difficult one for me...[ed. for personal content]

So. Here I am. I know that I know that our Lord is working. And then I wonder, ‘Will I ever move from here? Will I ever be free of it?’ And then I hear your voice saying, “Somebody needs to hear this today: there is an ‘After this.’” Imagine my surprise at such a clear & direct answer to this intensely personal question! Beth, thank you for your sensitivity to the prompting of the Holy Spirit, & for repeating His words: ‘After this…’

I’m sure others needed to be assured that with the Lord there’s always an ‘after this…’. But I am convinced that one was in a Methodist church on 2-23-2010. And it was me. And I heard, & I know that there is an ‘after this…’ Thanks be to God!

Jesus loves us, this we know...

A few weeks later I received a lovely letter from "Nancy," of Living Proof Ministries . Because of the scope of Mrs. Moore's influence, I did not expect to hear from her. Noting the personal, specific nature of Nancy's response, I know that Mrs. Moore had, indeed, heard from me. That was all I was after.

Back to 'writing': Mentoring is not about the celebrity of another person, it's about using their influence to help 'hear the voice.' As Mrs. Woodring has said, "I can't begin a story until I hear its voice."

Indeed.

And for me so far, the 'voice' shows up in odd & surprising places: like when conversing with my holly bushes, or when someone I'll never meet stops on a dime at a prepositional phrase.

I don't know where my story is going, but I know there is a Voice, & I am listening.

~~

"1After this I looked, and there before me was a door standing open in heaven. And the voice I had first heard speaking to me like a trumpet said, "Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after this." ~ Rev. 4:1

~~~

In Memory of a Hero

I’ve done some talking about heroes here & there , about our human need for them & our craving of them. Both drive us to conjure them even if the material is weak, & defenses against idiocy are thin. One doesn’t have to look far past the current White House, or the PGA tour for proof that our conjecture sadly disappoints. Yet we long for heroes. We need heroes.

In December, I attended a worship service celebrating the life of a rare, true hero. He was the father of one of my best friends. He died suddenly & unexpectedly.

We had been suitemates in college (several of us), & had made a pact to stay in each other’s lives; and stay we have. We’ve lived through jobs, weddings, babies, parenting, & times when life brings troubles that blindside us: illness, relationship strain, & now death. These are my life’s friends, & J. is one of them. I am grateful for her Dad because without him, there would have been no J. Without him, she wouldn’t have become the savvy, smart, determined woman of integrity & strength that she is.

We knew him as Rog, because that’s what he wanted to be called. He was fun & energetic, a gifted host, & always wanted to know how he could help us be more comfortable or have more fun. He loved God, his classy & spunky wife, his precious J., & the rest of his family. But you didn’t know Rog without knowing how much he loved his country.

He was “Rog” to us, but others knew him as Colonel Roger S., expertly skilled fighter pilot, recipient of the Silver Star & a host of other distinguished medals & ribbons.

Those who were so privileged to be at his funeral knew we were in the presence of something, someone special. Rog’s love for his country spilled throughout the elements of that service from beginning to end. It flowed from the tips of his sister’s fingers at the piano. It fell into the stories that came from the mouths of his “Colonel” & “Major General” eulogists. It revealed itself in the Military Honors that were presented, the hymns sung, the scripture read, & even the elements of the bulletins distributed for worship.

During this service, as is often the case, we learned things that we didn’t know about the one lost. I learned things that impressed me deeply, that had I known earlier, may have caused me to be more serious, more stoic in his presence. But I had no need to be reserved, because he made sure that none of us was distracted by the accolades of a calling he loved. His life & manner was not ‘all about him.’ It was about displaying his love for others through generosity, his ability to put people at ease, even at the sacrifice of his personal comfort. It’s what made him such a good host, this “love language” of service. It’s what also made him a hero.

See, God created Rog with a heart to show affection through acts of service. He accepted the gift with thanks, & set out applying God’s best for him to the best of his ability. It was, in part at least, what compelled him to devote his life to displaying the affection for his country through a career in military ‘service.’

He was generous with his talent, skill, time, his constancy; all certainly at great sacrifice of his personal comfort. Even in retirement, while running a successful civilian company, Rog was willing, eager to make the sacrifice. J. told me shortly after 9-11, that her dad was “ready to go.” She clarified, “He wants to get back in the cockpit & go to Afghanistan. He would go right now, if they’d let him.” Chronic back pain (from years of tumbling through space in a hot steel cylinder) & aging limbs that defied the will of his spirit notwithstanding, he would have gone. I have no doubt that it’s true, because he was a hero. It’s just what they do.

It’s no wonder that our culture of self-involvement & self-aggrandizement craves heroes so desperately. As rare as they are, our need for them simply cannot be met. However, when you’ve been in one’s presence it’s an experience worth savoring. It’s a gift worth honoring. And especially in this case, it’s an experience worth marking with words. Because see, this hero leaves behind a legacy. It’s a legacy that lives, breathes & walks in the shoes of my friend J. And it’s a legacy that will continue through her children, as they remember & someday re-learn who their Grandfather was to his family, to the people who knew him, & to his country.

I write today to honor one who loved my country more than I will ever know how, & to add to the body of memory that his grandchildren will one day sift, sort & cull in search of who he was, & who they are.

And oh! May they find, with joy, that they come from the stuff of heroes! May they discover that they, too, have gifts from God to be cultivated, honored & used to the best of their ability.

~~

One more question, upon reflection… What is the legacy of my sweet J’s Dad for me? It’s a hope that we citizens of this great nation will learn to sift, sort & cull the body of memory that is our history, in search of who America is, & who we are in her. And, oh! May we joyfully rediscover that we have been gifted as such for the use here & now, and that we, too, come from the stuff of heroes.

God bless my dear America.

~~~

Best laid plans of mortals & Kings.

I like order. I like to have a plan & know what to expect. I’m not great at flying by the seat of my pants. It’s one of those weaknesses I have to work on every so often…like today.

See, I was asked to deliver the “Congregational Prayer” during our Praise & Worship service this morning. Today was “Christ the King” Sunday, the close of the Christian calendar: a day set aside for proclaiming the Kingship of Christ. Established in 1925 by Pope Pius XI, it was designed to counter the rise of atheism & secularism that was absorbing early 20th century Europe. (Sounds like our current culture, no?) So our Pastor focused on ‘Christ the King,’ blending in touches of the Thanksgiving holiday, & needed a prayer to mesh, at least loosely, with his outline.

Back to my penchant for order…As is my nature, I had pre-written a prayer, weaving in elements of the chosen scripture (John 18:33-37) & Thanksgiving. In my haste to get out of the house though (failing at promptness - another weakness), I left my scripted prayer at the laptop, waiting to be printed.

My first thought when I realized what I had done? ‘No time to turn back now! I’ll have to wing it.’

Then came the corollary, “Maybe you’ll just have to trust my Holy Spirit for the words, Sus. Hmmm?”

So, we struck a deal, God & me. I would improvise, uncomfortable as that is, & He would supply the Prayer. (Didn’t have a choice really, late as I was.) But also, I’m learning some very important things about my God: my weakness is immaterial to Him, in fact it's when I am weak that He is strong. And, when He says He’ll be there, I can count on it.

So the time for our prayer came, & so did the words. It opened quietly with ½ of a verse of “Come Ye Thankful People Come,” a capella, then flowed into words coming from nowhere. I don’t remember exactly what they were (not that it was enraptured spiritual amnesia or anything). But the words I do remember were exactly what my heart needed (& perhaps the hearts of others?) on this day; at this time when so much is uncertain, & the powers-that-be seem out of hand.

The words were something like this: Christ Jesus is the King of kings, & He is my King. No person, no group & no Government can supercede His authority in my life…Christ Jesus is my only King &, Glory Hallelujah, that’s all that really matters.

Amen?

Amen.

So, I just have to ask. Who is your King?



Do you know Him?

~~~

Of Fort Hood Speeches & Gestalt Moments

My friend James, @ Musical Musings posted Mr. Obama's speech from the Fort Hood Memorial Service.

Lovely speech. Nice touches referencing each person individually. Well done, Mr. President. You've proven to be an impressive speaker - again...

The speech was well deserved by those in attendance & those who, sadly, are no longer with us. But I submit the following: anybody w/ charisma & camera-friendly face can schmooze out somebody else's words. Anybody can be coached on how to feign 'appropriate' affect & somber tenor when delivering a rehearsed eulogy. My concern is not what this man did on a stage at a solemn event, where every move was prescribed. My concern is what he did/didn't do in response to a live-action terrorist attack.

A commenter to James tried to make this point, albeit with great gusto, & was dismissed as immature & a disgrace. The following was, & still is, my contention with that dismissal:

In the moment of discovery of the Fort Hood massacre (it was NOT a "tragedy," it was a TERRORIST act perpetrated by a self-proclaimed SOA - soldier of Allah), Mr. Obama took the stage at a Native American Conference. It took him 60 full seconds to even mention the massacre.

A full 60 seconds: wherein he casually thanked his staff, conference organizers, gave congratulations to attendees for their 'extremely productive conference' and also gave a "shout out" to a medal winner!! ---- NONE as critical as 12 DEAD soldiers, massacred in cold blood, perp'd by one of our own personnel, who, btw just happened to be muslim & happened to have SCREAMED 'Allahu Akbar' seconds before he blew his fellow soldiers away. (But never mind that.)

And though my friends @ the other blog were involved in congratulating BHO (& each other) on his eloquent speech, I emphasized that I frankly don't give a flip what Mr. O said at the Memorial Service. He could have sung "The Rainbow Connection" while doin' the Charleston, for all I care about his performance.

See, what the Left misses is that leadership, strength & compassion are defined by what a person does/says when they're operating out of their own spontaneous, raw character. That's what matters, not some eloquence dribbled into a microphone, read off a teleprompter.

Last Thursday we were scared, & were all replaying tapes of 9-11. We needed immediate, heartfelt Leadership. We needed what Martin Buber calls "the I/Thou" relationship moment; the basis for Fritz Perls' Gestalt Therapy . "The experience involves an appreciation of & a respect for the reality of the Other." It's based on being 'in the moment,' where one intimately identifies with another's circumstances to effect a reciprocal bond of trust, & to foster transformative healing.

And this guy, this guy showed himself in that moment to be a detached, cool, emotionless (even cavalier), unsympathetic (except to muslims), calculating Disconnect. Who but the same can trust or bond with THAT?

Mr. O gave a lovely speech 5 days later. All the families deserved it - as did the departed. But in his Gestalt, in his defining moment, Mr. O showed he cannot produce I/Thou. And when you're incapable of that, all you've got left is I/Me.

Who, again, is the disgrace?

~~~

Fear, Freedom & the 'Wonderful Listener'

Before the Presidential election, the pro-Obama Left lauded him as the ‘wonderful listener!’ (Correction: he touted himself as the wonderful listener, & they fell in line like the brace of waddling ducks that they remain...)

Back then, I suffered through a conversation with one who lapped up his autobiographies (who but a narcissist writes more than one??) like a hungry kitten, & dewy-eyed & earnest said, “He’s someone who will really listen!” Not wanting to spew my coffee across Panera’s finely appointed decor, I breathed deeply, closed my eyes, & rolled them fiercely under my lids.

How excruciatingly naïve, I thought. When the campaign was over, & owning that perhaps my cynicism had over-reached, I haltingly decided to sweat through the next 4 years, wishing my country well. And sweat, I have. Not only is this President’s agenda as damaging as I feared, it’s worse; and gets more treacherous by the day.

We told him we didn’t want a ‘stimulus’ bill, & he didn’t listen. We told him we didn’t want Government taking over private industry, banks, unions, health care & he didn’t listen. Not only did he not listen, but told us that we aren’t angry about it, that actually only a small faction was 'faking it' (astro-turf, anyone?). Further, those who are ‘faking it’ should be ashamed of themselves for obscuring the true progress (government ownership of all things) that real (obedient, submissive) patriots want.

Call me a partisan if you like. But know that even those with hard-line Washingtonian sensibilities have called him out:

Here’s what Peggy Noonan says about the recent elections:

“There's a new detachment between the president and the electorate he won a year ago by 9.5 million votes…The White House and Congress chose to go down one path at the exact moment voters went down a different one…Mr. Obama carried Democratic Jersey by more than 15 points exactly one year ago. The Democratic governor lost by nearly five points this week. That is a 20-point swing. Mr. Obama won Virginia a year ago by six points. The Democratic candidate for governor lost by more than 18 points. That is a 24-point plummet.

“Mr. Obama…should start paying attention to what the people are saying…Something's wrong, fix it, change course. Show humility. Bow to the public. ‘Public opinion is everything,’ Lincoln is said to have said. It is. It can be changed and it can be shaped, but it always has to be listened to. This White House has gotten bad at listening. It paid the price for that on Tuesday.”

So much for the ‘Wonderful Listener’…

Rush Limbaugh caught a lot of flack for speaking without fear, hoping Barack Obama fails. He was referencing BHO’s radical agenda which had been clear to those of us who WERE LISTENING to the erstwhile candidate!

So, am I gratified by the voices from New Jersey & Virginia?

Yes, the way one is who has every right to say, “I told you so!” And no, because ‘gratified’ means it really is worse than I feared. I realize that fear is a distraction to be faced & defeated in order to reclaim our nation, but that’s no small task.

Those like my coffee shop friend must grow up & learn how to fight their way out of a wet paper bag. The ‘Wonderful Listener’ has proven himself a fraud, & the fight ahead will be much more difficult. I’m willing to share ‘gratified,’ as a bolster to our courage, because we'll need ample supply, & we need to draw others to our flank.

As I type, I’m hearing a phrase once spoken to a courageous & determined people who, after being beaten down by uncertainty & immobilized by fear, reclaimed themselves & snatched long victory from the jaws of despair. It was spoken at a time of desperation, & those who were listening, heard & were gratified. We are now the ‘wonderful listeners,’ friends. We are also those same courageous & determined people.

Listen, and join me in the hearing, “We have nothing to fear but fear itself.”

~~~

It really is all about Joe.

I ran into, by accident, another blogger who posted a piece about socialism. She waxes eloquent about the societal improvements that have evolved throughout the 19th & 20th centuries, which she attributes to socialist principles (don't have permission for a link, but comment & I'll show you). About each advancement, she says, “If you like --- having your weekends off, not stepping over sick homeless people, etc. ---, you can thank a socialist.” Being fair, in some regard she may have a point. However, on balance, I think we’ve got it licked:

If you like early detection & treatment of breast, uterine & cervical cancers, you can thank a capitalist.
If you’ve needed an emergency C-section (as I have three times), & had medical equipment on hand for the job, you can thank a capitalist.
If you’re relieved because of the advances in dental sciences, you can thank a capitalist.
If you’re thankful that vaccinations are available to keep your children safe from horrible, tragic diseases, you can thank a capitalist…
If you have the chance to save for your own rainy day? To provide for your family with enough to spare, you can thank a capitalist…

If you even know there’s something called a ‘Gamma Knife’ for exquisitely delicate brain tumor surgery…
If you like your computer for the blogging that’s so easily accessible to your fingertips…
If you’re glad you have contact lenses…
If you’re thankful for car seats that keep your children safe…
If you’re thankful for the car you drive…
If you’ve ever considered the advancement of home electricity, refrigeration, heating/cooling, indoor plumbing…

…you can thank people like Joe – yes, the Plumber – a capitalist.

Human nature doesn’t go out of its way to innovate, engineer, produce, improve, advance, compete - without incentive. Folks like Dr. Phil call it “secondary gain.” It’s the ‘what’s in it for me?’ factor that drives human nature forward. It compels productivity. Innovation & invention is the fruit of its toil.

Face it. We are selfish creatures. We want ours; & we want it better. Voila the capitalist society: teeming with advancements, opportunity for personal wealth; a place where the rising tide really does – eventually – lift all boats. (There are holes in this analysis; I agree. That’s for another post. I’ve got so much to say – you’d run ‘screaming into the night’ if I tried to fold it all in now.)

Is it perfect? No. It’s a human enterprise. There are bad apples in every barrel. On this point alone, some urge that the answer is socialism: an even-playing-field-utopia. I argue that socialism removes the playing field, changes the rules & kills the game.

You may say, “Look at the Swedes. They’re socialist & they’ve got Volvo.” Yeah, they’ve got Volvo. Just Volvo; & they bring it over here to make it really sing.

I also argue that socialism would neuter American innovation. Punishing success by revoking ‘profit’ (by confiscatory taxation, or punitive regulation) from those who strive to compete freely. It would dis-incentivize innovation, suffocate ingenuity, squelch productivity, & strangle the American dream. Look at history. Do you see any society advance by leaps & bounds like ours, as a result of socialist principles?

If you look for capitalist ills, you’ll find them in spades. (Heck, we’ve seen the whole deck in the past month.) Slow down, though… We’ve also seen the malignancy grown by forcing ‘socialist principles’ on the free market, too. Can anyone say Community Reinvestment Act of 1977? Can you say government-forcing-banks-to-supply-Sub-prime-loans-since-then to those who couldn’t shoulder them?

If you think it’s time to throw the baby out with the bathwater because of AIG, Lehman Bros., etc. you must first confront this: why do people from all over the world risk their lives to come here? Why do people cross deserts, swim across oceans on the strength of their own arms & legs, to wash up on our shore? Ask them & I guarantee you’ll hear something like this, “Freedom from tyrannical government, a chance to make it…opportunity.”

If you think it’s time to chuck it all & head for that utopian playing field, I ask you to ponder: what innovations will we miss? What advances will we thwart by tossing a system that “capitalizes” on some of the most ingenious qualities of the human mind & spirit? What greater good will we stunt: autism treatments? Cancer advances? Alzheimer’s therapies? Energy development? Scientific progress?

We are that “shining city upon a hill,” whether we realize it/want to admit it or not; & it’s not because we’ve followed Karl Marx. We are a hero to the world (a fallen one, for the moment, but a hero nonetheless), and the world is drawn to heroes. That’s why they come. The world needs a hero.

Be thankful. For the moment, the world still has one.

~~~

A privilege to pray.

This Monday seems fresh & new with possibility. The morning greeted me with the "Women of privilege" notion that we explored a few weeks ago. Not long after came my friend introducing the "Big Ben Silent Minute" idea. There seems to be a thread forming - a thread of intentional prayer.

Trouble is, sometimes I’m not sure what to pray. It’s probably those times that I should just be quiet & listen. (Do you think?) Other times, I need words; I need to articulate my thoughts. It was one of those times – when God knew my need to be expressive – that the following prayer came to me. I am extremely grateful for these words, and my prayer is that they will be a blessing to you today.

Oh, Christ Jesus. We thank you & praise you for the tremendous blessings in our lives, in our churches, in our country. We have been given so much; our cups overflow. Thank you, thank you God.

And still we know that there are places in our world where cups are empty; where sickness overpowers health, where your children have lost the dignity of shelter. God, we know that there are places in our world where fear grips stronger than freedom, and news of your Grace is scarce.

Lord, God, with all that we have, help us to remember who we are. Help us to remember that we are to be your mercy - to help fill empty cups. We are to represent your healing - giving aid where we can. We are to be builders of community, opening doors for those who’ve been shut out. Help us, oh God, to remember who we are, so that where there is fear, we will stand in Your strength before it; and where there is no message of your Grace, we will be the bearers of good & refreshing news.

Thank you for the privilege of being your children. Help us to remember, so that your blessings to us become blessings to your world. Let it be so, in Your holy name.

~~~

"Read My Lipstick"

Oh my goodness. May I please tell you about my day yesterday? It started in the hair salon, where my friend Mark & I were talking about “Get the Big Idea”. I explained the theme I’ve been wrestling with, & Mark’s eyes lit up. He proceeded to tell me that a group of women he knows have started an operation to energize women to ‘stand up & be counted in the culture war of our country’ (sounding familiar?). Their operation has a catchy name. It’s called “Read My Lipstick” (any bells ringing now?).

As it happened, I was leaving the salon to travel with my Mom to Elon University to the Sarah Palin rally (yippee!! More on that later…). Before I left, Mark handed me a small grocery bag full of small campaign-like buttons. The buttons had the name of their operation in attractive, catchy graphics & their web address in small print.

So off I go to the Rally, where I happily distribute my cache of buttons to delighted women (& even some men). Within 30 minutes, my little bag was empty. The Rally was super, as you know I’d say. (But it really was; very exciting!) When I returned home, I pulled off my button & went to the website scrolled on the bottom. “Read My Lipstick” is an organized movement, friends. I was almost astounded at what I saw. The press release on this site expresses the same theme that has been on my heart, & captures the essence of the original inspiration for “Get the Big Idea”.

I’m almost astounded that the themes are so clear & common, yet arising independently. I can still scarcely believe how yesterday’s events played out: the trip to the salon coinciding with the Rally, the buttons that ‘happened’ to be on-hand, & the crossover of themes. These seemingly serendipitous events have borne substance that feeds my spirit. It’s like the galvanizing encouragement of hearing voices floating across the wind, when you fear you’re stranded in the valley. It’s the hope that spurs your search for them, the joy of recognizing their language as your own, & the assurance that settles deep in your soul when you find that you are, indeed, not alone.

I’ll be keeping up with "Read My Lipstick" as it develops, & I invite you to do the same. Be encouraged, friends. We’re not stranded in the valley. There are voices floating across the wind. Listen.

~~~

Women against women.

I’m getting a little ruffled, & I’ll tell you why. It’s the women-against-women thing that's swirling around us. Women are attacking-to-destroy Sarah Palin. She’s conservative & she places human life above human choice. She doesn’t follow the feminist manifesto & they don’t like it. In my mind, it’s not about partisan politics; it’s about Feminist Politics.

Let’s ask, “Who are these women, & why are they doing this to one they should presumably champion? Why is it that they claim to speak for women, & yet so viciously tear this one down?”

It seems the answer lies in compliance, acquiescence & power. When they have no challenger, the women about whom I speak demand that we all be tolerant, that we love peace, be sensitive & take care of “the children.” (Sure Madonna, adopt beautiful African children who don’t have choices of how to live – how lovely. But what about children who are being ‘eliminated’ on our own continent – before they have a choice to live?)

Then, a woman emerges who challenges their singular oratory. She comes onto their national stage & they rage & foam & spew vitriol. It’s not just that they don’t want to share. (Really now, weren’t we taught to share in Kindergarten?) It’s real seething venom. Have you seen it? (Quick - search Youtube. I won’t link them to my page.) Nice. Yes, & how very loving & tolerant & sensitive of them to whip up their crowds into a fresh lather of rancid antipathy. How pleasant. How peaceful. (You, too, Sandra Bernhardt.)

And then there’s the print media (even Canadians are complying - now that’s obedience!), cartoon media (featuring Governor Palin being punched, etc.), & the regular ol’ TV media. They’re crafty about it, though; splicing interviews, photographing legs from behind in bald attempts at sexual objectification. I could go on… Where is Barbara Walters & Whoopie Goldberg to decry this shameless sexism? When do Arianna, et. al, come rushing to defend of one of their own? What’s that I hear? Static…?

Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. Not a peep. They rant for years at the injustice men have imposed upon women (& sometimes rightly they rant). Yet they fail to see their own injustice is far more dangerous. I wonder what Susan B. Anthony & Sojourner Truth would think of this women-against-women campaign? Those women knew hardship & fought the uphill fight. I’m grateful for what their untiring efforts have afforded us (even when it means a woman with whom I disagree gets a solid shot in Presidential politics). But Hillary isn’t on the scene right now, Sarah Palin is. She’s in a historic position, having benefited from past efforts also. To my thinking, she is uplifting women’s status around the world, & it is to our country’s great credit that she does.

What’s that Madonna? Sandra? Doesn’t Sarah also have the right to claim her place on the stage? She’s a woman, right? Oh. Yes, but she’s not compliant; she hasn’t acquiesced. She’s a woman who is stealing your thunder (read: power). Therefore, even though she’s a woman, she doesn’t count. Because for women-against-women, XX chromosomes only count when they lean to the Left.

~~~

Brothers.

One vast fortune I have is to have grown up with brothers. They were at one time an aggravation. Dealing with them was an exercise in frustration. They never did what I wanted them to do, what I demanded they do! So many years later, I’m fully aware that my life is blessed because of them. I am a richer & better person because they are my brothers.

They helped make me a more understanding, perhaps a more patient person; a more loving wife. Brothers taught me about life; things I would never have learned on my own. They taught me about toughness & how to appreciate masculinity (even bathroom humor – ugh!). They lived loyalty for me, & showed me how to receive & understand their kind of love. They taught me their antics – me, the direct recipient – & how to see the giftedness of the male spirit. At least for these reasons, I am forever a better wife, mother & hopefully sister.

Whenever they wonder what their purpose is in life, these boys, I want them to remember that part of it is in giving their sister the chance to become the woman she’s supposed to be. It’s their spirit that helps give her an understanding of her place in the world, a contrast to her own giftedness. It’s their brother-ness that helps her get beyond herself to see into the heart of another. I tell this to my brothers because I’m the only sister who can. I’ll tell this to my sons, because their sister won’t know it for years to come. And I’ll tell it to my daughter because she, whether she realizes it now or not, has a vast fortune of her very own.

~~~

Women of privilege. Tough questions.

Jesus said, “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; & from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.” Luke 12:48

Tall order?

What does it mean to be a Christian woman in America?

Does our American-ness give us a unique perspective on God?

Does our Christianity give us a unique perspective on life?

Working backward:

Does our Christianity give us a unique perspective on life? Yes. It’s Grace, & freedom through Grace. Freedom to be exactly who we’re supposed to be for the Glory of God.

Does our American-ness give us a unique perspective on God? Yes. Indeed, it does. Stay with me…

If you own the computer through which you view these words, if you’re sitting in a comfortable place, safe from enemies; if you are a woman & you can read (at all), then you’re among a privileged minority of women in the world. American women have these privileges simply because of where we live. Regardless of our socio-economic status, level of education, etc., American women are collectively – by comparison to the rest of the globe – privileged.

We’re part of a nation that elevates women through education, opportunity in the marketplace, access to healthcare for ourselves & our families, & freedom to worship freely without fear of torment. Those who claim ownership of American ‘women’s issues’ will beg to differ with me, but that’s their right. (Get it?)

And yet we don’t realize, don’t truly understand, how deeply fortunate we are; & that this ‘fortune’ is from God. Even as I write, I confess that I don’t have a working understanding of women’s experiences around the world. A Thousand Splendid Suns was enough for me. At least in my head, I get it.

At a Beth Moore event a few years ago, a friend & I scanned the sea of 20,000 women’s faces & asked each other, “What would God do if all these women claimed His will in their lives? What would He do in our churches, our communities, in our country? What a movement of God’s power we would see, & it could be through women!” It was a humbling, awesome prospect.

What does it mean to be a Christian woman in America? Our American-ness, if we’re paying attention, gives us a unique perspective on what God can do with us & our privilege, if we yield it to Him. First, we have to claim it. We have to step out of ourselves, our yearning to complain, our materialism, & acknowledge our blessings. God has mercifully allowed us privilege & blessing in order that we may be a blessing, a force for good in the world. We must be willing to step out of ourselves, step up to our blessing & humbly approach God. When we begin to do that, I believe He will use us to be a blessing in our homes, our communities, our country, & ultimately in our world.

Tall order? Yes. What a privilege.

~~~

Just say it.

Remember in my first post, when I told you that I’ve decided it’s time to say some things? I wasn’t referring to jumping on a stump & shouting through a bullhorn. Though if that’s your style, be my guest. For me, those opportunities come more quietly. I’ve decided it’s time to pay closer attention, & act when I feel that tightening in my gut. Here’s an example of what I mean:

Dear School Board:

I am a concerned parent of three in your school system. Recently, I learned from another parent (whose child attends Rosy Glow Elem. School) that many teachers exhibit openly partisan support of only one Presidential candidate. This support is present in the form of t-shirts, campaign buttons & stickers worn throughout the instructional day, as well as bulletin board displays favoring one political persuasion, with minimal representation of the other. Children have been taken on field trips to campaign headquarters of one party at the exclusion of the other. And, as a class assignment, they were required to view the coverage of one party’s convention (for purposes of class discussion), but not invited/required to view the other party’s convention. One would hope that in covering issues relative to an historic Presidential election, that our school system would encourage children to develop thoughtful analysis by exposing them to balanced instructional material.

Partisan passions lend a certain zeal the political process, especially during an election season. However, partisan passion should be unequivocally mute in the instruction of public elementary school students. Anything less, and public instruction becomes pure indoctrination, as in the examples above. I hope you'll agree that indoctrination does nothing to foster clear, independent thinking and logical reasoning in the growing minds of elementary school children.

This school system has served my children very well to date, but news of what is being allowed at Rosy Glow is unnerving. In my opinion, it requires that you address it immediately. We are proud of a school system that fosters independent thought and a balanced approach to learning. Regarding the above situation (as it was explained to me), this system is doing a disservice to its children and parents.

Thank you for your kind consideration of my concerns. And thank you for all that you do for the schools to equip teachers and embolden students to face a world of diverse and difficult challenges.

Sincerely…

The response of this fine school board was swift, though my voice had been quiet; and I am thankful. Based on reports, I trust that the issue has been handled sufficiently.

Friends, when you are fortunate enough to recognize injustices around you, act. When you see unfairness, speak. I’m not only referring to injustice in Africa or the Middle East; global things. The thought of trying to effect change there overwhelms me. I’m not large, loud or significant enough a human being to do anything about that. My voice seems to get lost in the cacophony of politics, or even just in the wind.

BUT, where I do have a voice loud enough to be heard, I’ve decided it’s time to speak. I encourage you to, also. You don’t have to be harsh or obnoxious. When you see an injustice that catches in your gut – and you all know what I mean – decide what you want to say, & find the best ear. Be firm, be calm, be respectful. Then just say it.

~~~

New on the scene

Well, it seems I have some up-and-coming friends!

I'm pleased to introduce you to Hummingbird, written by Kimberly Greene Angle. Kimberly is my cousin's wife, my cousin-in-law. (Does that mean I'm famous by marriage? I didn't think so, either...)

It's a "sweet and tangy debut [which] introduces a memorable cast of characters who come to learn that grace can abide within and beyond the realities of pain and loss" (B&N.com synopsis). For ages 8-12.

and also:

The Christmas Booger, by Leila Haggerty Montgomery. It's a picture book, you might guess, with Leila Montgomery's wacky sense of humor infused throughout! Leila (& her sister Lisa, illustrator) are friends of ours from our Knoxville years, & we're thrilled for their success!
Available at Amazon.com

~~~

Thanks for soccer

Dear Coach,
I sit to write because you’ve been on my mind for several months. Recently, I found myself reminiscing about High School years & what I’m thankful for.

I’m writing because of the dedication & commitment you gave our little travel soccer team all those years ago. You were a real pioneer – tournament soccer was an infant in the South then, & we were part of that first wave. Thank you for making that experience happen for us girls. It’s nice to look back & know I was part of it.

On a more personal note, though, I have a lot to thank you for. Our team gave me another place to belong, to learn teamwork & leadership, & blow off steam at a time when my life seemed difficult. You were a Godly example to us girls: giving, generous, honest. We knew, even as you put up with our shenanigans, that you were there just to be in His service. I am proud to have been associated with our team simply because of that.

It’s just in recent years that I’m understanding how important my soccer years were. Yes, there was school, music & the rest. But soccer gave me a place to compete & be strong; to prove myself. It gave me a place to unwind the awkwardness & insecurity that seems to entangle young girls. It helped me to remember who I was. It helped me to build a bridge to the strong & rather independent woman that I would become.

Why I’m writing now, I’m not sure, except that it’s time I said thank you. And perhaps because my perspective on life has changed. I’m coming to appreciate people more & the sacrifices that were made for me. So, thank you, thank you.

I hope this letter finds you well, & your family happy. Thank you again for all that you did for me - & I’m sure many others. Take care, & may God bless you deeply.

I remember you fondly,
Susannah

~~~

"Which one would you save"

Books are essential. Reading is one of the best expanders of the mind, of the soul.

But what if some catastrophe occurs, and only one book could be saved? Faced with that notion, which book would you be sure to rescue? Which one would you save?

It's legal and it's literary. It’s historical and poetic. It's sophisticated narrative and children’s delight. It's sexy and smoldering; compellingly real and enigmatic. Come to it as a scholar, or scientist, an objective observer or a hostile assailant. It's confounding, perplexing, nearly implausible. It yields to antagonism, ignites debate and inspires awe. By it, through it, one can be moved to a depth of intimacy that defies understanding. When a catastrophe strikes, when all books will vanish and I can save just one, this one will be clutched under my arm, shielded from the mayhem of falling, crashing, burning. When I rush out of the flaming building and my family is safe, I’ll have pressed against me this one, my Bible.

I’ll save it, because it first saved me.

~~~