Dear Satanists,

Dear Satanists,

This is just a little note to thank you for holding your so-called black mass in Oklahoma City this weekend.  Yes, you read that right. Thank you.  Would you like to know why? Here’s the thing – on a normal Sunday afternoon, I might be sitting around watching a movie, or reading, or some other solitary thing, but not this Sunday.  This Sunday afternoon I was in church praying, together with both my biological and my parish family. And we were joined by churches all over our state and our nation.  We were united in prayer to counter the sacrilege you tried force on us. I say tried, because I think it backfired on you in a magnificent way. You see, our church was full of the faithful praying at a time they wouldn’t normally be together. Just like me, they might have instead been at solitary pursuits, but they took the time to come together because they felt that need to be together to pray and celebrate our faith. It was a beautiful, holy thing to behold, and such an amazing, tangible example of God turning something meant for evil into good. All those extra prayers rising to heaven, people praising and thanking God for the indescribable Gift of the Eucharist. But you know, it wasn’t just Catholics praying. People of all Christian denominations were praying with us. That is almost unheard of for all of us to agree on something. And it never would have happened without you.  So we all really owe you a debt of gratitude for that.

Oh and just so you know, I prayed for you in the midst of all of this. It makes me sad to think that you’d choose the dark and cold over the warm, loving light God offers. I’ve faced both of those and trust me, the light is infinitely better. Besides, the dark can never hope to overcome the light; that battle has already been fought and won. I hope for your sake, that realization comes to you before it’s too late.  As for me, I spent the rest of my Sunday with my family, basking in that light of love, richer for the experience I had today.  All because of you.

Thanks again.

We Are Oklahoma

“His voice shook the earth at that time, but now he has promised, “I will once more shake  not only earth but heaven.”That phrase, “once more,” points to the removal of shaken, created things, so that what is unshaken may remain”  Hebrews 12:27

In the wake of the tornadoes we’ve had the last couple of days, I’ve had several people ask me how we can live somewhere that such violent storms can wipe a town off a map with very little notice.  “Aren’t you brave,” they say, “I could never handle that.”  What they don’t see is that this is not who we are, this is something that happens to us.  It’s our reaction to this tragedy – and make no mistake, this is a terrible tragedy – that defines Oklahoma and why we choose to live here.

If you’ve never lived here, you don’t see that our first reaction is not “Oh poor us, look at what happened to us.”  It’s “What do you need?” or “How can I help?”  People that might have been fighting the day before reach out to help each other with whatever they need, be it food, shelter, clothing, or even the very blood from their veins.  We mourn our dead together, the children, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, all who were taken too soon and so violently.  And they are all ours, whether we knew them or not.  We donate generously: money and goods, and the work of our own hands to help clear the debris and salvage what can be salvaged.  We work side-by-side to rebuild, and life goes on.  Until the next time, when we do it all again.  This is part and parcel of living here, and we know this, but never letting it cause us to become casual or bitter about the lives and property lost.  This is who we are.  This is the measure we take, how we react and care for our neighbors, knowing next time, we might be the ones needing care.

So the next time I’m asked how I can live in such a place as Oklahoma (and I have no doubt I will get asked), I will sum it up as this:

We are caring.  We are strong.  We are resilient.  We are unshaken.  We are Oklahoma.

The Pursuit of Happiness

I don’t think happiness is obtainable.

Let me clarify.  I think there are moments of happiness, things that make us happy – the  laugh of a baby, the smell of honeysuckle, the sound of a loved one’s voice, a hug from that special person, the feeling you get in your chest listening to a particularly inspiring piece of music, a really good slice of watermelon. Those are moments of happiness, but that feeling is not sustainable.   No one could live like that all the time.  I believe what people define as happiness is really a feeling of contentment, an acceptance of the way things are and with the things that you have.  The absence of dissatisfaction, of restlessness, replaced by peace with yourself and the world around you.  That is what we should strive for.  Moments of happiness will find us if we’re just open to them, but we have to pursue that peace, that contentment.  That is what is obtainable, that is what is sustainable.  And in that peace, that is where we come face to face with God.

Another Balmy Southern Evening

Another balmy southern evening.  I sit on my back steps watching the chickens scratching their way through the compost heap.  Their soft clucks to each other are oddly soothing, or they would be if I could hear them over the droning of the God-forsaken cicadas.  Our state insect, the West Nile mosquito, buzzes lazily on the warm breeze, one biting me for at least the thousandth time today; I slap at it, spreading blood all over my hand.  I idly wonder if the last person it bit had some kind of communicable disease.

One of the chickens wanders over and hops in my lap, gently gouging my leg with her compost-covered talons.  I talk softly to her, nothing that makes sense, but she cocks her head and listens, almost like she understands what I’m saying.  She leans in, almost affectionately, and pecks me on the end of the nose.  She glides so gracefully across the yard, arching down on the soft, warm breeze from the trajectory I’ve sent her on.

I look up at the blue sky, not a cloud marring its deep cobalt color.  Not one cloud.  Not even one damn wispy cloud.  Not for months, except those fluffy ones that look like they might bring some rain, but they just get your hopes up and then BAM!  Nothing.  Sadistic bastards.

The plants sway gently in the breeze, their brown leaves crunchy in the 100-degree heat.  You can almost hear them gasping for water.  I think about watering them, but then decide my imminent heat stroke from sitting outside too long probably takes precedence, so I stay where I am.  They’re on their own, every organism for themselves in this heat.  I guess that’ll teach them not to evolve opposable thumbs and the ability to move to where the water is.

I’m not sure, but I think the heat is making me a little cranky.

Blessing Those Who Curse You

But to you who hear I say, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.
Luke 6:27-28

I’m having a really hard time with this today.  We’ve just had a few days of dealing with curses  and mistreatments and I think we’re feeling a bit battered at the moment.  It’s really hard when you find out one of those doing the mistreating is someone you counted, if not as a friend, at least not among your enemies.

I think loving enemies/blessing those who curse you/praying for those who mistreat you is one of the greatest challenges in my life, especially when it’s someone I love being mistreated.  I get my “Sicilian” up and I just want revenge, not forgiving.  Someone just has to pay!  It takes all my will to remind myself that Someone already did pay, not just for my sins, but everyone’s, even the egg-sucking, yellow-bellied, no-account, piss-ant polecats of the world.

It’s funny, I was getting all wrapped up in scenarios of how I could, at least verbally, get revenge on these people.  There were some pretty good ones too; in the scenarios in my head, I’m always SO witty and quick with a comeback, unlike real life, where I usually end up turning purple and crying.  While I was spinning these wild tales with my brain, my hands were busy putting together lessons for the 3^rd grade Sunday school class.  Brought back to reality, I noticed that I kept seeing the same page on each stack of lessons.  The page had in the middle, in big, blue bold letters, the verse above.  After about the fifth time it popped up, it was kind of like, “Ok, I get it.  Fantasies of revenge not so productive.  Sigh.”

I’d like to say I had an epiphany and my heart changed and now I can forgive these people and sunshine and flowers are flying out of my ears.  Nope, not even close.  I still would like to try out some of my mad kickboxing skills on them, but I did get the message.  I will try to forgive.  Forgetting will take longer, but I’ll work on the forgive part first.  Hopefully God is as lenient with me as I am with my own kids when I tell them “all I ask is that you do your best.”  That’s the best I have at the moment.

Mean People Suck

I have been working a holiday job in retail this year, actually for the second year for the same store.  Sadly, this year it seems like people are angry and mean for some reason.  Nothing I’m selling is anything anyone *needs* per se, so they’ve come in willingly – no one dragged them in or coerced them.  I don’t understand the logic of berating the salesperson because you don’t like the color/fit/price/etc. of an item.  We’re pretty much the peons at the bottom of the chain of command; not surprisingly, the upper echelons did not consult us on the design nor the pricing of the items.   And here’s another little tip – it pretty much sucks to be us most days – we don’t need more people piling crap on us.

I try to remember that these customers must be unhappy people and we’re just handy targets, but some days, it’s really exhausting and disheartening.  However, I firmly believe that there’s always a lesson to be learned, and what I hope I’m taking away from this is a greater sense of patience for those whose jobs require them to wait on the public, and the remembrance of how it feels when someone is mean for no reason.  Mean people suck and I don’t want to be that sucky person.   So, in the spirit of the season, try a little peace on earth and goodwill towards men (and women!) when you’re out and about.  It doesn’t cost anything to be patient and kind to those people who are just trying to make a living, and trust me, it just might make their day a little better!

Enough!

Enough!

That’s my word for today.  Heck it might be my word for a while.  I am at that point my kids generally know as “I HAVE HAD ENOUGH.”  No, I’m not angry at my kids; in fact I’m tired of being angry all together.  Let me explain…

This has not been a good year for my family, my extended family.  Long story short (if that’s possible), my brother endured a really ugly election for a mayor’s position of the town we grew up in.  Now we’re not talking a large metropolis or anything, but he made a group of unethical, mean people angry and they decided to exact a terrible revenge on him, and caused a great deal of hurt to my family in the process.  Many untrue and ugly things were spread about him, and most people didn’t take the time to find out if they were true or not, and he lost his election.  Actually, that was the best part of the whole thing; he is so much happier now and his life is so much better and more positive, that I truly thank God that he lost that election and can move on with his life.  But, the ugliness has stayed behind.  It sparked a wave of meanness and hate that even almost six months after the election, it’s still smothering the town.  Unfortunately, good people trying to do the right thing are still being subjected to the hate and evil, including my family, which has suffered enough.  Pardon me if I sound like some kind of kook, but I really think Satan is rejoicing at the foothold he’s gained, using those people to spread evil and ugliness.

I found myself getting wrapped up in answering every challenge, every lie that was posted on Facebook and other websites until one day, I realized I was becoming every bit as much of a tool of evil as they were by striking back in anger.  So that’s when I decided to say “Enough.”  I’m done with helping evil with its agenda.

This extends to our society in general as well.  For some reason, we’re all ready to believe the worst about someone right away.  Take the President, for example.  Even if you don’t think he’s doing a good job, he’s still a fellow human being, and calling him names doesn’t serve a purpose.  Constructive criticism of his performance is one thing, but attacking someone personally is not acceptable.  Think for a moment about how his daughters feel when they read or hear the things that are written and said about their father.  They’re not old enough to understand that it’s “just politics.”  That’s their dad, and they love him.  Is hating this man worth destroying his daughters over as well?  I don’t think so.  Enough of the hate, enough of the anger, enough of the lies that destroy people and families.

What is the first thing you think of when I say “people on welfare?”  Is it that they’re just a bunch of lazy drug addicts living off the system?  Yes, I know, there are some that are, but look deeper.  That woman, that man, that child, most of us are just one disaster, one serious illness, one job loss away from being them.  Don’t automatically assume you know the story behind that person.  Reject the evil that causes us to dismiss someone out of hand and refuse to help someone in need.  Enough!

So my challenge to you, and to myself as well, is, the next time you’re tempted to strike out in anger, or make a judgment on a person, or ridicule someone for being “different,” stop and ask yourself if that’s what you want to put out into the world.  If that’s the kind of world we want to live in.  If not, then just say “ENOUGH” and walk away.

Maybe, just maybe, if the good people stand up and say “enough,” we can change the world…

Letting Go

I once read a quote from someone that said having children is like ripping your heart out of your chest and letting it walk around on its own.  I never understood that until I had a child.  What makes it worse is that, sticking with the analogy, your heart *wants* to be separate from you and is constantly pulling away while you’re trying to pull it in closer, just for a little while longer.

I just got back from taking my son to middle school orientation.  My brain is still trying to figure out how we went from Blue’s Clues and Spongebob Squarepants seemingly just yesterday, to “Mom don’t walk so close to me in front of my friends.”  I look at him sometimes and am surprised to see a handsome young man, not the toddler with the dirty face I expect to see.  My time with him has been all too short, and it’s getting shorter.  Soon it will be cars and proms and girlfriends, and then I’ll have to turn him loose into the world.  But not yet, please God, just a little more time, measured in hugs and smiles and those times when they really open up and talk to you, and you can see the seed of the amazing person they’re going to be.

My son is my immortality – I’ll live on in his children and their children just as those that went before live on in me, and I like the thought of that.  I also see in him my mortality, born to take my place in this world as I step back and let him, eventually.  Not just yet though, I still have so much to tell him and show him, and I’m trying, but time is getting oh so short.  I know he hates the little “inspirational talks” I manage to spring on him from time to time, but what he doesn’t realize is I feel like I’m chasing him, trying to impart all the knowledge I can to him while he’s, at the same time, running away.  All I can hope for is that he’s hearing some of it and when he needs it most, he’ll hear my voice giving him advice.   I guess in the end, that’s really all of us they can take with them when they go.

Tweeting the Pope

I’m following the Pope on Twitter.  How bizarre a statement is that?  (I’m a little miffed that he has an Apple iPad and I don’t yet, but that’s another blog.)  So this gets me thinking, in my weird twisted way, what exactly is the Pope going to tweet (my sincere apologies in advance to His Holiness)? Yes, I actually laid awake the other night thinking about this…

“Hey peeps, I’m rocking the big gold hat today!  Bls U!”

“Wonder if this is the same Apple Adam and Eve (not Adam and Steve!) had?  ROFL, JK!”

“In nomine Patris et Filii et …, oh whoops, had the Latin turned on, my bad”

“Accidentally wore my fuzzy house slippers under my robes today, boy did I feel stupid!”

“Anyone know somewhere I can get a good bratwurst in Rome?? Really tired of pasta…”

“Pulled a little practical joke today by hiding a confessional then jumping out unexpectedly.  Boy nuns sure can scream loudly…”

I’m sure the Pope’s real tweets will be profound, relevant and not at all like this, but maybe, just maybe, something like this has crossed his mind, you never know… 😉

In Remembrance, and warning

Today is the 16th anniversary of the Oklahoma City Bombing. I’m sure most of the country doesn’t really take much notice, but for Oklahomans, this is a sacred day, a holy day. These were our friends, our neighbors, our relatives. 168 souls lost in a blink of an eye to a madman’s political agenda. Lost for nothing but rhetoric twisted in the mind of a man who wanted to strike against a government he thought was corrupt and out to get him.

Sixteen years later, turning this over in my mind, it’s sobering to realize that we really haven’t learned much. Timothy McVeigh was not a foreign person striking at us from outside the country like 9-11. He was one of us, someone who had taken the hate talk against the government to heart and felt like he was fighting a holy war against an evil. No, I’m not defending him; I hope he burns in the hottest fires of hell for eternity and beyond, but we have to realize that there are still people out there like him. People who will take the hate talk going around now against the government and twist it in their minds into another holy war. The speeches in the last election, and since, are ugly and hate-filled. It’s scary to think someone, somewhere right this minute, has at least a seed of an idea in their heads to rid the world of “them,” whoever their “them” might be. When you split the world into “us” and “them, ” this is the end result. 168 people die. For nothing but words. Think about that the next time you say something like “It’s all those damn (insert your favorite group to hate here)’s fault.” Someone might be listening. Someone might be taking that to heart. There is no “us” and “them”; there is only “us” and we need to find a way back to polite discourse and constructive disagreement, not hate. Nothing is accomplished by hate, ever.

Recently, some friends and I visited the Winston Churchill museum in Fulton, Missouri (which I highly recommend; awesome museum!). Part of the presentation was a film clip of Hitler giving a speech before WWII. It was sobering to realize that if you replaced the word “Jews” with “Republican” or “Democrat,” his speech sounded eerily like some of the ones given by candidates/politicos in the last election and since. Hitler was a master at dividing people into “us” and “them,” and he managed to convince a whole country to go along with him. Chew on that for a bit. What if you ended up being “them?” What would happen to you and your family? Is that the kind of country we want?

Let those lives lost mean something. Remember those men, women and children when you’re tempted to speak in hate against someone that doesn’t believe like you do, vote like you do, or look like you do. We are all diminished by senseless hate and the loss that comes with it.

This is the goal I advocate: Never again. Not now, not ever.