1. I believe that God is the one true God, and the Jesus is His son and the Holy Spirit our intercessor to God. I believe that the Bible is God’s true Word, even if I don’t understand every word in it. I believe that the Word of God is inerrant and infallible. All will be revealed in time and the believers will be in eternal glory. I am sorry for those of you that heard the Word and did not heed.
2. I am more than happy to learn about your spiritual beliefs if you are willing to listen to mine. I don’t believe you should be able to tell me to take down my Christmas tree or manger scene because it offends you.
3. I believe that expressing your opinion does not make you a racist. Judging someone because of their skin color does. I also believe it is impossible to identify the one man standing in a group of men wearing red shirts that is black as anything other than the black man in the red shirt.
4. I don’t believe in ethnic-American classifications. If you were born in America or have your legal citizenship in this country you are now an American! If you want to adequately document your historical, ethnic nationality, you may do so via geneaology. If I must call you 'African-American' or 'Asian-American', then you must call me 'Irish-Italian-American'.
5. I don’t believe in banning books. ANY book. I don’t have to read them and neither do you. I also don’t believe that anyone should be allowed to make my child read a book I (as an adult) find offensive in school under the guise of education or opening their minds. I feel the same way about religion, sex-education, art, music and games.
6. I don’t think the government should decide if I can own a gun, a can of mace or a sharpie. I do think I am responsible for the use of anything I own and must accept the consequences of decisions I make. If you're not smart enough to own a gun, you probably shouldn't have a child either, but we have stronger gun-control laws than we do birth-control laws.
7. I don’t believe I should be required to pay for your birth control, abortion, sex-change operation or drug habit. If you want it, you pay for it. You will also be responsible to ‘pay’ for the emotional consequences (good or bad) of your decisions.
8. I believe we spend so much time worrying about people’s feelings that we don’t take a stand for what is right and wrong. Don’t go out of your way to hurt others, but draw your line and stand your ground.
9. I believe we are responsible for our own actions. Stop blaming your parents, teachers, priest, or culture/ethnicity for your problems. Deal with it and move on.
10. I believe there is a difference between abuse and discipline. Spanking a child is NOT abuse, but NOT disciplining a child is. There would be a lot less abuse in this world if there were more discipline.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
The Scary Movie
So, do you ever get just crazy? I don't mean that night with your friends when you drank/smoke/karaoke'd too much and woke up the next morning feeling like you needed to wash the sandlot out of your mouth. Or the recurring fantasy you have about driving your car into a crowded parking lot and screaming at the top of your lungs. Or 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas'...
No, I mean the crazy where you know that something is wrong, wrong, wrong, but you can't put a finger on what it is that's wrong about it. The kind of crazy where you feel completely out of sorts but you have no idea what will make it all better. The sort of insanity where you really just want to slap or shake or scream at everything. (My husband would call this "hormones"; but he won't say it outloud as it might topple me over the edge.)
Well, I'm there right now. I can't exactly name what is wrong or how to fix it. And, for the life of me, I can't understand why so many other people just can't SEE it. Trying to put words to the nameless, shapeless thing that you know is right around the corner -- or the next corner after that -- or the next -- but the words aren't there to explain. Like in all those creepy, horror movies you watched as a teen (okay, some of you STILL watch them) and you could hear the scary music and you just KNEW something was going to happen and you thought you knew when and what and where...but you still jumped and screamed anyways when it DID happen.
I'm really no good at surprises; in fact I HATE THEM. Oh, I can keep a secret. And I can help plan the surprise party or be a member of the posse that plans it. And I love the feeling of pulling one over on people when it's a happy surprise. Surprise parties, surprise baby announcements (as long as it's NOT me!), surprise gifts or visitors are all great. That kind of spontanaeity I can handle.
It's the stuff that I know that's coming, but while waiting for it to happen, my mind just goes wild with imagining what might or could or would happen that makes me NUTS. The unknown. I feel better knowing what the diagnoses is so I can research. I like to look up all the possibilities, plan for the contingencies. I don't just have a Plan B, I have about 24 others as well. That way it's not a surprise when you hear the words.
Right now, I feel our country is like that horror movie. You've gotten to know the characters, maybe even like some of them (after all, who really likes ALL the people in a horror movie. There are some people that should just die because they should in the movie). You just know something is going to happen -- bad happen -- because you can hear the scary music. And you're sitting on the couch in your living room (or in your car at the drive-in) and you're yelling at the screen "Turn on the LIGHT! TURN. ON. THE. LIGHT!!!" But, of course the girl (or the guy) can't hear you because they're in the movie and you're in the audience, just watching it all happen. Of course, you could go to the bathroom or leave the theater or turn off the movie; but whatever is on that film will still happen whether you watch it or not. (yes, I realize that movies aren't real -- this is an allegory)
I feel like I'm shouting for the people on the screen to turn on the lights but no one is listening. I know some of you are, but you're in the same theater I'm in, screaming the same words. Some in the rows around us are hushing us to be quiet. It's just a movie, after all. The actors are just playing a part. It's not really all that bad. Eat more popcorn. It won't be long before some of us leave that theater. Others will stay to watch another show, but eventually the lights will have to go on. By the time the lights are turned on, it will be too late. The show will be over and they'll find out it wasn't just a movie and those weren't just actors playing a part. It was real life and the real bad things, the bad guy, the bad stuff will be happening. And it will be too late to stop the scary music and turn on the lights.
No, I mean the crazy where you know that something is wrong, wrong, wrong, but you can't put a finger on what it is that's wrong about it. The kind of crazy where you feel completely out of sorts but you have no idea what will make it all better. The sort of insanity where you really just want to slap or shake or scream at everything. (My husband would call this "hormones"; but he won't say it outloud as it might topple me over the edge.)
Well, I'm there right now. I can't exactly name what is wrong or how to fix it. And, for the life of me, I can't understand why so many other people just can't SEE it. Trying to put words to the nameless, shapeless thing that you know is right around the corner -- or the next corner after that -- or the next -- but the words aren't there to explain. Like in all those creepy, horror movies you watched as a teen (okay, some of you STILL watch them) and you could hear the scary music and you just KNEW something was going to happen and you thought you knew when and what and where...but you still jumped and screamed anyways when it DID happen.
I'm really no good at surprises; in fact I HATE THEM. Oh, I can keep a secret. And I can help plan the surprise party or be a member of the posse that plans it. And I love the feeling of pulling one over on people when it's a happy surprise. Surprise parties, surprise baby announcements (as long as it's NOT me!), surprise gifts or visitors are all great. That kind of spontanaeity I can handle.
It's the stuff that I know that's coming, but while waiting for it to happen, my mind just goes wild with imagining what might or could or would happen that makes me NUTS. The unknown. I feel better knowing what the diagnoses is so I can research. I like to look up all the possibilities, plan for the contingencies. I don't just have a Plan B, I have about 24 others as well. That way it's not a surprise when you hear the words.
Right now, I feel our country is like that horror movie. You've gotten to know the characters, maybe even like some of them (after all, who really likes ALL the people in a horror movie. There are some people that should just die because they should in the movie). You just know something is going to happen -- bad happen -- because you can hear the scary music. And you're sitting on the couch in your living room (or in your car at the drive-in) and you're yelling at the screen "Turn on the LIGHT! TURN. ON. THE. LIGHT!!!" But, of course the girl (or the guy) can't hear you because they're in the movie and you're in the audience, just watching it all happen. Of course, you could go to the bathroom or leave the theater or turn off the movie; but whatever is on that film will still happen whether you watch it or not. (yes, I realize that movies aren't real -- this is an allegory)
I feel like I'm shouting for the people on the screen to turn on the lights but no one is listening. I know some of you are, but you're in the same theater I'm in, screaming the same words. Some in the rows around us are hushing us to be quiet. It's just a movie, after all. The actors are just playing a part. It's not really all that bad. Eat more popcorn. It won't be long before some of us leave that theater. Others will stay to watch another show, but eventually the lights will have to go on. By the time the lights are turned on, it will be too late. The show will be over and they'll find out it wasn't just a movie and those weren't just actors playing a part. It was real life and the real bad things, the bad guy, the bad stuff will be happening. And it will be too late to stop the scary music and turn on the lights.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Censure vs. Censor
So my oldest son asked what the difference is between censure and censor. Interesting question.
Dictionary.com lists "censure" as a noun meaning:
1.strong or vehement expression of disapproval
2.an official reprimand, as by a legislative body of one of its members.
"Censor" is listed as noun
1.an official who examines books, plays, news reports, motion pictures, radio and television programs, letters, cablegrams, etc., for the purpose of suppressing parts deemed objectionable on moral, political, military, or other grounds.
2.any person who supervises the manners or morality of others.
3.an adverse critic; faultfinder.
So, i've been thinking alot about First Amendment rights. The First Amendment to the United States Constitution reads: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."
For instance; you can call whatever you like art, however some people may find it offensive, in bad taste, or just plain bad. I have to admit I don't have much of an eye for art; although I love to look at sculptures, paintings and photography. Most of it (even if I could afford it) I wouldn't put in my home. Some people find the Micaelangelo's statue of David offensive for it's nudity. Other's might think Andy Warhol's art is irreverent or odd. But people allow the statue to stand and the art to hang where it is because it's someone's interpretation of art. You are free to look, enjoy and critique. Or not. You are NOT free to destroy or vandalize.
If you disagree with specific politics; it is acceptable to write a letter or call your representative or congressperson and make your voice known. You are permitted (with appropriate documentation) to picket or protest a decision or march in the streets for victory over a vote or the passage of a bill. It is not acceptable to toss projectiles through windows or shoot up buildings to show your displeasure or joy.
You might signify your lack of support for something by withdrawing your money or shopping somewhere else that more closely follows your thinking. You might change churches or schools to more closely align yourself with people who are on the same path. You would not (at least I wouldn't) stop paying your mortgage or taxes or insurance because you think rates are too high or your coverage too poor (or don't agree with how the money is being spent).
You can disagree with someone's religion or ethnicity or opinion in your own living room, by shouting at the television (but not shooting the television) or cheering for the bad guy in a scary movie. You cannot burn a cross on someone's lawn or paint a swastika on someone's door.
For years the media and authors and the public have disagreed on just how far the freedom of speech and press and religion should carry. George Carlin's "7 Dirty Words" is hardly understood by many youngsters now as so many of the words are now allowed on the airwaves. Our own Vice President used #3 within hearing range of the press -- several times. Should authors and artists and regular people be allowed to say anything they want without getting in trouble? How much is too much? When is what you say in public not really appropriate to have been said at all? And the internet and social networking sites bring the fracas to a whole new level of complication.
At what point does joking about killing your spouse turn into hate speech? When does the laugh track on 'Achmed the Dead Terrorist' stop being funny (sorry, I don't EVER think it stops being funny, but that's just me). When is nudity art and not pornography? Who decides when one (or more) religion or politician is okay to poke fun at, but some you just have to leave alone? And, if I laugh at a joke or a comment that someone else doesn't find funny, does that make me wrong or sick or bad?
So, is it okay for others to censor our opinions, beliefs, rights, our sense of humor? And at what point does censoring our freedoms turn into legal censure?
Dictionary.com lists "censure" as a noun meaning:
1.strong or vehement expression of disapproval
2.an official reprimand, as by a legislative body of one of its members.
"Censor" is listed as noun
1.an official who examines books, plays, news reports, motion pictures, radio and television programs, letters, cablegrams, etc., for the purpose of suppressing parts deemed objectionable on moral, political, military, or other grounds.
2.any person who supervises the manners or morality of others.
3.an adverse critic; faultfinder.
So, i've been thinking alot about First Amendment rights. The First Amendment to the United States Constitution reads: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."
For instance; you can call whatever you like art, however some people may find it offensive, in bad taste, or just plain bad. I have to admit I don't have much of an eye for art; although I love to look at sculptures, paintings and photography. Most of it (even if I could afford it) I wouldn't put in my home. Some people find the Micaelangelo's statue of David offensive for it's nudity. Other's might think Andy Warhol's art is irreverent or odd. But people allow the statue to stand and the art to hang where it is because it's someone's interpretation of art. You are free to look, enjoy and critique. Or not. You are NOT free to destroy or vandalize.
If you disagree with specific politics; it is acceptable to write a letter or call your representative or congressperson and make your voice known. You are permitted (with appropriate documentation) to picket or protest a decision or march in the streets for victory over a vote or the passage of a bill. It is not acceptable to toss projectiles through windows or shoot up buildings to show your displeasure or joy.
You might signify your lack of support for something by withdrawing your money or shopping somewhere else that more closely follows your thinking. You might change churches or schools to more closely align yourself with people who are on the same path. You would not (at least I wouldn't) stop paying your mortgage or taxes or insurance because you think rates are too high or your coverage too poor (or don't agree with how the money is being spent).
You can disagree with someone's religion or ethnicity or opinion in your own living room, by shouting at the television (but not shooting the television) or cheering for the bad guy in a scary movie. You cannot burn a cross on someone's lawn or paint a swastika on someone's door.
For years the media and authors and the public have disagreed on just how far the freedom of speech and press and religion should carry. George Carlin's "7 Dirty Words" is hardly understood by many youngsters now as so many of the words are now allowed on the airwaves. Our own Vice President used #3 within hearing range of the press -- several times. Should authors and artists and regular people be allowed to say anything they want without getting in trouble? How much is too much? When is what you say in public not really appropriate to have been said at all? And the internet and social networking sites bring the fracas to a whole new level of complication.
At what point does joking about killing your spouse turn into hate speech? When does the laugh track on 'Achmed the Dead Terrorist' stop being funny (sorry, I don't EVER think it stops being funny, but that's just me). When is nudity art and not pornography? Who decides when one (or more) religion or politician is okay to poke fun at, but some you just have to leave alone? And, if I laugh at a joke or a comment that someone else doesn't find funny, does that make me wrong or sick or bad?
So, is it okay for others to censor our opinions, beliefs, rights, our sense of humor? And at what point does censoring our freedoms turn into legal censure?
Thursday, March 25, 2010
The American's Creed and Citizenship
The American's Creed
by William Tyler Page
"I believe in the United States of America as a government of the people, by the people, for the people; whose just powers are derived from the consent of the governed; a democracy in a republic; a sovereign Nation of many sovereign States; a perfect union, one and inseparable; established upon those principles of freedom, equality, justice, and humanity for which American patriots sacrificed their lives and fortunes. “I therefore believe it is my duty to my country to love it, to support its Constitution, to obey its laws, to respect its flag, and to defend it against all enemies.”
NOTE: William Tyler Page, Clerk of the U.S. House of Representatives, wrote “The American's Creed” in 1917. It was accepted by the House on behalf of the American people on April 3, 1918.
William Tyler Page, of Friendship Heights, Maryland, gave to the citizens of his country, The American's Creed. Mr. Page described it as "a summing up, in one hundred words, of the basic principles of American political faith."
http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~vafccdar/darcreed.html
History of The American's Creed
by Marguerite Courtright Patton
~*~ Documented phrases in The American's Creed ~*~
- "The United States of America." -- Preamble, Constitution of the United States.
- "A Government of the people, by the people, for the people." -- Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Address.
- "Whose just powers are derived from the consent of the governed." -- Declaration of Independence.
- "A sovereign Nation of many sovereign States." -- Drawn from Article IV of the Constitution.
- "A perfect Union." -- Preamble to the Constitution.
- "One and inseparable." -- Daniel Webster.
- "Established upon those principles of freedom, equality, justice, and humanity for which American patriots sacrificed their lives and fortunes." -- Derived from Declaration of Independence.
- "I therefore believe it is my duty to my Country to love it." -- In substance from Edward Everett Hale's "The Man Without a Country."
- "To obey its laws." -- Compiled from Article VI, Constitution of the United States.
In researching this, I find the pledge of Citizenship reads: "I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen; that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform noncombatant service in the Armed Forces of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God."
There are caveats regarding the Citizenship pledge (for instance, you don't have to say "so help me God"). http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oath_of_Allegiance_(United_States)
I wonder how irritable people would be if we recited one (or both) of these two pledges in replacement of the Pledge of Allegiance. How many of you (us) would pick this apart as the Pledge of Allegiance is picked apart?
For instance...I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen. Does this mean dual citizenship is prohibited?
'I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic' If there are enemies of our country -- within or without -- we are to defend our country above all.
'I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same' (the Constitution). Swear your allegiance to our country and constitution -- I dare you.
'I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law' 2nd amendment laws are not the bad guy here. Guns don't kill people....
'I will perform noncombatant service in the Armed Forces of the United States when required by the law' military service is compulsory -- would you fight, and possibly die, if your country asked you to? Or are you embarrassed by our history of people fighting for freedom? The freedoms you have every day?
'take this obligation freely without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion' you're not coerced to be a citizen. If you don't want to live here and follow the rules above, you don't have to. But you don't get the 'prizes' for playing, either.
So, what does being a 'citizen' of the country mean? Wikipedia defines Citizenship as "the state of being a citizen of a particular social, political, or national community." It continues, "Citizenship status, under social contract theory, carries with it both rights and responsibilities. "Active citizenship" is the philosophy that citizens should work towards the betterment of their community through economic participation, public service, volunteer work, and other such efforts to improve life for all citizens. In this vein, schools in some countries provide citizenship education."
Some of the "Benefits" of being a Citizen are:
The Right to Vote. As far as I'm concerned if you have the ability to vote, you are obligated to vote. Right or wrong, even if you don't know who to vote for, even if you don't like the choices, you have the OBLIGATION to vote. If you are eligible to vote and don't register, don't complain about our country. Don't even bother to voice an opinion. If you don't take the time to register to have your opinion count, then you don't GET an opinion.
Bring your relatives to live with you. You can petition for specific family members to recieve their permanent or legal residence here. Your mother, father, siblings or spouse. They have to qualify, but if they want to be legal, and pay taxes, great. We need more people who really want to live here and still think the American Dream can be a reality (even though most of us think Santa Claus is more real than the American Dream).
Receive Social Security If the program (still) exists, and they've paid into it, they should get what they put in. I wouldn't count on it though as it's already bankrupt.
Travel at Will This means you are a REPRESENTATIVE of the United States. Act as you want to be remembered. If you want to be remembered as the snobby American brat that demanded exotic foods and left cruddy tips, then so be it. But don't expect that your former countrymen (or women) will respect you for changing your allegiance. And don't expect they'll be grateful for the materialistic American stuff you bring with you. This doesn't mean you get to go to other countries and bomb their people who don't agree with you. Unless you're in our military and then we'll pay you to do it. And then deny we even know who you are and refuse to cover your medical costs for the rest of your life.
Responsibilities of citizens are (from http://resources.marshalladulteducation.org/citizenship.htm):
- Serving Jury Duty
- Respecting Others
- Supporting Education and Schools
- Giving back to your community
- Paying Taxes
- free education (public schools)
- medical coverage & benefits (unless you pay for your own)
- property ownership
- student loans (or loans in any form held by banks on American soil)
- traveling from country to country without inspection and appropriate, correct documentation
- Gun ownership or anything allowed by 2nd Amendment rights (if you aren't a citizen, the amendments and therefore the Constitution are not yours)
- equality or justice according to the laws of this country
- freedom from deportation
Yes, (as you are thinking, what a hateful person I am) I have friends that this will affect negatively. I have a friend in the process of moving back to Mexico to join her husband as he is not able to receive his legal American Citizenship (she is an American Citizen). I have a friend who has tried, unsuccessfully for years to gain her legal citizenship status. Her daughter was born here; her husband has received his legal status. For reasons, unknown to us (or her), her claims have been denied. However, both of these friends have accepted the consequences of the rulings of citizenship. Neither one of them is attempting to live here illegally. They have used and, continue to use the legal form of complaint and process filings for their cases. They are useful in their communities and in their jobs. The participate in churches, and other community and neighborhood services. Both of them are dedicated to this country in ways that many actual legal citizens of this country are not committed.
As a citizen, would you actually, in front of others, swear your allegiance using the words above and mean them? Do you understand what the freedoms you have truly mean? What they have cost others? What they continue to cost today? Do you comprehend that countries all over the world do not have the smallest portion of the freedoms we profess to have, yet willingly give away at the tiniest hint of struggle?
Aging out
I have four children, ranging in age from 11 to 32. I also have two grandchildren, 6 years and 3 months. And, I was a child (although a very long time ago according to my youngest children).
I'm sure every child has at one point in their tortured existence as a not-yet-adult has complained "I can't wait to be an adult and do everything I want to do!". Yes Virginia, there IS a Santa Clause.
http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2010/mar/17/hicks-at-26-its-time-to-be-real-adult/?page=2
According to President Obama's new healthcare bill, unmarried *children* under the age of 26 are eligible to be covered under their parents health insurance. This radical mother (article above) actually suggests that she thinks they are old enough by 21 to be an adult in a real adult world. Going to college, getting a job (or three), having a car, paying your own bills, incurring credit card debt up the wahoo.
So in a world of ever increasing dependency, our government has created yet another class of peoples that will be beholden to the handout. Terrific. And here i've been trying to teach my children to be more self-reliant and responsible. After all, why get a job that pays good money and has a benefits package (that would be insurance coverage for those of you under 26) when you can live at home and sponge off your parents for a few more years? I'm sure your parents have nothing else to do with that money -- that would be the money they're paying in taxes, groceries, utilities and other expenses while you continue to live under their roof.
Some things kids get that parent's (adults) don't:
Parents around the country, let's join hands, sing Kum-bay-ah and cheer for our victory. Our children will never grow up.
I'm sure every child has at one point in their tortured existence as a not-yet-adult has complained "I can't wait to be an adult and do everything I want to do!". Yes Virginia, there IS a Santa Clause.
http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2010/mar/17/hicks-at-26-its-time-to-be-real-adult/?page=2
According to President Obama's new healthcare bill, unmarried *children* under the age of 26 are eligible to be covered under their parents health insurance. This radical mother (article above) actually suggests that she thinks they are old enough by 21 to be an adult in a real adult world. Going to college, getting a job (or three), having a car, paying your own bills, incurring credit card debt up the wahoo.
So in a world of ever increasing dependency, our government has created yet another class of peoples that will be beholden to the handout. Terrific. And here i've been trying to teach my children to be more self-reliant and responsible. After all, why get a job that pays good money and has a benefits package (that would be insurance coverage for those of you under 26) when you can live at home and sponge off your parents for a few more years? I'm sure your parents have nothing else to do with that money -- that would be the money they're paying in taxes, groceries, utilities and other expenses while you continue to live under their roof.
Some things kids get that parent's (adults) don't:
- Eat dessert. Sometimes LOTS of dessert. And never count a calorie or worry about high blood pressure, cholesterol or diabetes.
- Take naps. Usually this is mandatory until the age of 5 or 6 in my house.
- Play outside (or inside) all day. No laundry or cooking or dishes or cleaning.
- Have a pet that someone else takes care of. Daily.
- Sleep in on weekends.
- Full-time chauffeur at your beck-and-call 24/7/365.
Parents around the country, let's join hands, sing Kum-bay-ah and cheer for our victory. Our children will never grow up.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Coming back home
So let's take a little trip together. You won't need to pack much, just the baggage you carry every day. I want you to imagine the home you grew up in. If you grew up in several, pick the one you liked the most or remember the most. Okay, have that picture in your mind? Let's get in the car (or plane or bus or train) and go back there. We'll visit my childhood home first in hopes that it brings back memories for you.
As you enter my old town (after several stops along the way for potty breaks, Starbucks infusions and a greasy cheeseburger or two), I'll notice some changes, i'm sure. The grocery store is a thrift store. The bank where I got stickers or lollipops when I set up my first savings account is now a coffee house. The church I attended houses a senior center and the old school has been torn down and a mall built on the space. The playground where I did my first chin-up or knocked the air out of my lungs the first time is a park with big toys and a jogging lane.
I keep driving and begin to recognize some familiar spots: the house where I took piano lessons, the place where I was bitten by a dog while riding my bike to school one morning with my friends, the 'old lady' that gave away the best candy at halloween, my best friend's home. Some of the houses are gone and some have been maintained; different paint, more or less trees, newer cars, remodeled exteriors.
As we keep driving around, I notice that the street that I lived on has some changes. There's a roundabout at the intersection that was always so dangerous -- I couldn't cross it until I was old enough to look both ways and use the crosswalk (after checking one more time for cars). There was a fatal accident at this intersection when I was about 6; the wrecked auto sat on our property for months during the investigation. If I had remained there during my teenage years, it might have been the intersection where I got my first ticket for not making a complete stop or for making an illegal turn (it wasn't where I got my first ticket; that was the 2nd town I lived in for making an illegal U-turn in front of the Sheriff's office).
I drive almost completely past my old driveway because the trees that lined the street have grown to mammoth size and the fence and sidewalk are completely obscured by overgrown shrubs and weeds. There are potholes in the asphalt and a chain-link gate with a sign that says the premises are secured by "Smith and Weson". Backing up, I park across the street and look for a few minutes.
Was this really my old house? The front yard is covered in brown, dead grass and the rosebushes that my mother so lovingly tended have suckered and resemble brambles instead of flowers. There was a porch where I slept outside during the summer and would sit at night and watch the stars in the sky or listen to the coyotes in the far off hills and burrow under my blankets on the lawn chair. And the sliding door where the quail and the roadrunners would 'beg' for the food my mother gave them.
The house itself is in disrepair and in need of a paint job. Windows are broken, steps and railings are missing or split and the front door is cracked and has an external deadbolt (this is the same door my father played a practical joke on the ladies that came to convert my parents to another religion). Do I have the nerve to walk to the door, knock and meet the new inhabitants? What if they aren't friendly or don't care about the memories I have of my childhood home? For now, we'll assume I can walk through the home without being disturbed or worried for my safety (I don't want to be writing the next blog from prison...).
Where do I go first? The Kitchen? The living room? My bedroom? I had pastel kitties for wallpaper in my room as a child -- on my 11th birthday my parents repapered my room in a white paper with roses in little ribbons up and down the walls. That was also the birthday I got my canopy bed and the furniture to go with it. It was my princess room (although I have to admit I never was much of a princess -- more of a tomboy, but that's another blog). I had one of those wall clocks that was a cat; the eyes would move back and forth and the tail would too. It had rhinestones on it and the light from the hallway under my door at night would creep me out as the eyes and the tail would glow in this eerie rhythm and motion. My barbies, stuffed animals and board games inhabited this room with me -- mostly to keep me safe from the cat with the glowing eyes and tail.
My mother made the best meals in that kitchen with avocado green appliances and indoor/outdoor carpeting with vinyl flooring. We played monopoly by the hour in the breakfast area; had many a family meal (including tamales with Gramma G. and liver and onions for my dad). The laundry room was off the kitchen. It was where our dogs were potty trained when puppies and where the dog food was kept later on. The door leading outside was the door where my dad tied a string to the handle and slammed it, pulling out one of my teeth (yes, parents did that and no one accused them of abuse. My children prefer the trampoline method). It's also the room I participated in my first dare: Eat dog food for 25 cents (I did it and my dad gave me $1.00).
The living room was where I raced home to watch "Speed Racer" after school on our 27" Zenith console TV. It was where I watched my mother knit socks for my father as we watched "The Wonderful World of Disney" or "Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom". My father had a chair in the back corner where he sat and read his paper, drank his Crown Royal or Seagrams 7 and smoked either his cigar or his pipe. I cleaned all his pipe bowls out once because I thought I was being helpful. Apparently, not so much. I still miss the smell of his pipe and cigars. The couch along the sliding door was where I spent two weeks one summer recovering from pneumonia. My dad was traveling (on a trip mom didn't want to take and didn't want to take me with) and we had the whole two weeks planned with fun adventures. And then, I caught pneumonia. Mom spent the entire two weeks playing one extended game of monopoly. This was where I got my first baby doll and carriage from Santa, under the aluminum tree with blue ornaments and the rotating color wheel. My dad showed slides from the projector on the screen of his trips to Asia and our family trips to Hawaii, Mexico and the Caribbean.
So many memories flood my mind about my childhood home. But as I look around, I recognize nothing of the old house. Obviously the furniture moved with us to the new home (I still have a few pieces with me now). After thirty years, the carpeting and drapes would have been replaced. But the home, inside looks completely different. The floor is dirty and falling apart. The walls have holes and stains and watermarks. The furniture -- what is left of it -- is worse than thrift store -- more like refuse pile. The hallway where I used to hide and watch "Gunsmoke" (after my mother said it was too scary for me and sent me to bed) is now open to the rooms that used to be bedrooms. There is nothing inside this building that even closely resembles the home or the house it once was. In some ways it's worse than the outside.
We don't really have time to walk around the outside and view the poorly maintained land; the almost-an-acre where I pretended for hours to ride (make-believe) horses, played tonka trucks and planted vegetables (and learned that gophers liked cantelope and watermelon right off the vine). The fruit trees that covered the property have been left alone for too long and no longer bear the sweet cherries (for pies), apricots (which I hated) and plums (I hated plums too, then). It's where my dogs and a few cats lived, where I chased horned-toads and desert lizards. I got my first facial scar from stepping on a scooter that I should have put away -- the handle end clipped my eyebrow and made me bleed -- certainly not my first nor my last accident as a child.
The people that live here, apparently (I find out later from a local), do not own the property, they are only renters. They have lived here for awhile, relocated from another part of the world. However, they are behind in payments and haven't made any in months; maybe years. Legally, they have no permanent residence or ability to live here (or anywhere else) but they cannot be removed from the property as they are entitled to a place to live and cannot be punished for their lack of payment. In fact, the local law enforcement turns a blind eye to the happenings and lawlessness of these people because there is nothing he can do unless he wants to face the loss of his job, threats and lawsuits, possibly death. These particular inhabitants do not work and have made no effort to be a member of the community they have chosen to live in. They have made no efforts to maintain the property, return it to it's former glory or remodel the disrepair created from decades of abuse and age. It is not their property and they claim no ownership to it; they only want what is owed to them at the hands of the landowner and the law. The neighbors have tried many times to get them to repair the house; helping to mow the lawn or tending the garden and yard; to no avail. The inhabitants live here, but they do not claim responsibility or love for their residence. The last time a neigbor came over to bring cookies or to ask their children to play, they were escorted off the property by the local law enforcement for trespassing and told not to come back unless they wanted to face jail time by violating the standing restraining order against them and all other trespassers. (Man, am I glad I didn't actually go inside!)
My retrospection is interrupted by a man with a big dog and a gun. It appears I'm trespassing on his land and need to leave. As I mention that this was my childhood home, he softens a bit and allows me a few more minutes to remember what once was. We reminisce about a time, not so very long ago, when the home was well-cared-for and lovingly tended. When there were family gatherings and children playing in the yard. The neighbors knew each other and took care of the sick and the needy. They watched each others children play and looked after the house if someone was on vacation. It wasn't unheard of to mow your neighbor's lawn 'just because you had the time', or for the children to play outside all day and not come home until dinner time. You knew everyone in town because you all shopped at the same stores, your children went to the same schools and were on the same teams. And, if you had a disagreement with a neighbor, it was solved with cookies (for the kids) and a stiff drink (for the parents) over the BBQ or stove in the backyard; not with a team of legal experts and reams of paperwork. Visitors or even long-terms guests were welcomed and offered hospitality; but they neither demanded nor asked for more than that hospitality.
I thank him for his time and wish him well, waving as I get back into the car to drive away. I had hoped to take a few photos of my old home for the scrapbook and to show my children, but it in no way resembles the home I grew up in, so the camera lies beside me on the seat.
I miss my childhood home.
As you enter my old town (after several stops along the way for potty breaks, Starbucks infusions and a greasy cheeseburger or two), I'll notice some changes, i'm sure. The grocery store is a thrift store. The bank where I got stickers or lollipops when I set up my first savings account is now a coffee house. The church I attended houses a senior center and the old school has been torn down and a mall built on the space. The playground where I did my first chin-up or knocked the air out of my lungs the first time is a park with big toys and a jogging lane.
I keep driving and begin to recognize some familiar spots: the house where I took piano lessons, the place where I was bitten by a dog while riding my bike to school one morning with my friends, the 'old lady' that gave away the best candy at halloween, my best friend's home. Some of the houses are gone and some have been maintained; different paint, more or less trees, newer cars, remodeled exteriors.
As we keep driving around, I notice that the street that I lived on has some changes. There's a roundabout at the intersection that was always so dangerous -- I couldn't cross it until I was old enough to look both ways and use the crosswalk (after checking one more time for cars). There was a fatal accident at this intersection when I was about 6; the wrecked auto sat on our property for months during the investigation. If I had remained there during my teenage years, it might have been the intersection where I got my first ticket for not making a complete stop or for making an illegal turn (it wasn't where I got my first ticket; that was the 2nd town I lived in for making an illegal U-turn in front of the Sheriff's office).
I drive almost completely past my old driveway because the trees that lined the street have grown to mammoth size and the fence and sidewalk are completely obscured by overgrown shrubs and weeds. There are potholes in the asphalt and a chain-link gate with a sign that says the premises are secured by "Smith and Weson". Backing up, I park across the street and look for a few minutes.
Was this really my old house? The front yard is covered in brown, dead grass and the rosebushes that my mother so lovingly tended have suckered and resemble brambles instead of flowers. There was a porch where I slept outside during the summer and would sit at night and watch the stars in the sky or listen to the coyotes in the far off hills and burrow under my blankets on the lawn chair. And the sliding door where the quail and the roadrunners would 'beg' for the food my mother gave them.
The house itself is in disrepair and in need of a paint job. Windows are broken, steps and railings are missing or split and the front door is cracked and has an external deadbolt (this is the same door my father played a practical joke on the ladies that came to convert my parents to another religion). Do I have the nerve to walk to the door, knock and meet the new inhabitants? What if they aren't friendly or don't care about the memories I have of my childhood home? For now, we'll assume I can walk through the home without being disturbed or worried for my safety (I don't want to be writing the next blog from prison...).
Where do I go first? The Kitchen? The living room? My bedroom? I had pastel kitties for wallpaper in my room as a child -- on my 11th birthday my parents repapered my room in a white paper with roses in little ribbons up and down the walls. That was also the birthday I got my canopy bed and the furniture to go with it. It was my princess room (although I have to admit I never was much of a princess -- more of a tomboy, but that's another blog). I had one of those wall clocks that was a cat; the eyes would move back and forth and the tail would too. It had rhinestones on it and the light from the hallway under my door at night would creep me out as the eyes and the tail would glow in this eerie rhythm and motion. My barbies, stuffed animals and board games inhabited this room with me -- mostly to keep me safe from the cat with the glowing eyes and tail.
My mother made the best meals in that kitchen with avocado green appliances and indoor/outdoor carpeting with vinyl flooring. We played monopoly by the hour in the breakfast area; had many a family meal (including tamales with Gramma G. and liver and onions for my dad). The laundry room was off the kitchen. It was where our dogs were potty trained when puppies and where the dog food was kept later on. The door leading outside was the door where my dad tied a string to the handle and slammed it, pulling out one of my teeth (yes, parents did that and no one accused them of abuse. My children prefer the trampoline method). It's also the room I participated in my first dare: Eat dog food for 25 cents (I did it and my dad gave me $1.00).
The living room was where I raced home to watch "Speed Racer" after school on our 27" Zenith console TV. It was where I watched my mother knit socks for my father as we watched "The Wonderful World of Disney" or "Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom". My father had a chair in the back corner where he sat and read his paper, drank his Crown Royal or Seagrams 7 and smoked either his cigar or his pipe. I cleaned all his pipe bowls out once because I thought I was being helpful. Apparently, not so much. I still miss the smell of his pipe and cigars. The couch along the sliding door was where I spent two weeks one summer recovering from pneumonia. My dad was traveling (on a trip mom didn't want to take and didn't want to take me with) and we had the whole two weeks planned with fun adventures. And then, I caught pneumonia. Mom spent the entire two weeks playing one extended game of monopoly. This was where I got my first baby doll and carriage from Santa, under the aluminum tree with blue ornaments and the rotating color wheel. My dad showed slides from the projector on the screen of his trips to Asia and our family trips to Hawaii, Mexico and the Caribbean.
So many memories flood my mind about my childhood home. But as I look around, I recognize nothing of the old house. Obviously the furniture moved with us to the new home (I still have a few pieces with me now). After thirty years, the carpeting and drapes would have been replaced. But the home, inside looks completely different. The floor is dirty and falling apart. The walls have holes and stains and watermarks. The furniture -- what is left of it -- is worse than thrift store -- more like refuse pile. The hallway where I used to hide and watch "Gunsmoke" (after my mother said it was too scary for me and sent me to bed) is now open to the rooms that used to be bedrooms. There is nothing inside this building that even closely resembles the home or the house it once was. In some ways it's worse than the outside.
We don't really have time to walk around the outside and view the poorly maintained land; the almost-an-acre where I pretended for hours to ride (make-believe) horses, played tonka trucks and planted vegetables (and learned that gophers liked cantelope and watermelon right off the vine). The fruit trees that covered the property have been left alone for too long and no longer bear the sweet cherries (for pies), apricots (which I hated) and plums (I hated plums too, then). It's where my dogs and a few cats lived, where I chased horned-toads and desert lizards. I got my first facial scar from stepping on a scooter that I should have put away -- the handle end clipped my eyebrow and made me bleed -- certainly not my first nor my last accident as a child.
The people that live here, apparently (I find out later from a local), do not own the property, they are only renters. They have lived here for awhile, relocated from another part of the world. However, they are behind in payments and haven't made any in months; maybe years. Legally, they have no permanent residence or ability to live here (or anywhere else) but they cannot be removed from the property as they are entitled to a place to live and cannot be punished for their lack of payment. In fact, the local law enforcement turns a blind eye to the happenings and lawlessness of these people because there is nothing he can do unless he wants to face the loss of his job, threats and lawsuits, possibly death. These particular inhabitants do not work and have made no effort to be a member of the community they have chosen to live in. They have made no efforts to maintain the property, return it to it's former glory or remodel the disrepair created from decades of abuse and age. It is not their property and they claim no ownership to it; they only want what is owed to them at the hands of the landowner and the law. The neighbors have tried many times to get them to repair the house; helping to mow the lawn or tending the garden and yard; to no avail. The inhabitants live here, but they do not claim responsibility or love for their residence. The last time a neigbor came over to bring cookies or to ask their children to play, they were escorted off the property by the local law enforcement for trespassing and told not to come back unless they wanted to face jail time by violating the standing restraining order against them and all other trespassers. (Man, am I glad I didn't actually go inside!)
My retrospection is interrupted by a man with a big dog and a gun. It appears I'm trespassing on his land and need to leave. As I mention that this was my childhood home, he softens a bit and allows me a few more minutes to remember what once was. We reminisce about a time, not so very long ago, when the home was well-cared-for and lovingly tended. When there were family gatherings and children playing in the yard. The neighbors knew each other and took care of the sick and the needy. They watched each others children play and looked after the house if someone was on vacation. It wasn't unheard of to mow your neighbor's lawn 'just because you had the time', or for the children to play outside all day and not come home until dinner time. You knew everyone in town because you all shopped at the same stores, your children went to the same schools and were on the same teams. And, if you had a disagreement with a neighbor, it was solved with cookies (for the kids) and a stiff drink (for the parents) over the BBQ or stove in the backyard; not with a team of legal experts and reams of paperwork. Visitors or even long-terms guests were welcomed and offered hospitality; but they neither demanded nor asked for more than that hospitality.
I thank him for his time and wish him well, waving as I get back into the car to drive away. I had hoped to take a few photos of my old home for the scrapbook and to show my children, but it in no way resembles the home I grew up in, so the camera lies beside me on the seat.
I miss my childhood home.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Voices
I have a lot of voices in my head today; most of them not very encouraging or nice. Usually the voices are the characters in my books dictating their dialogue or my mother nudging me with an idea or a memory. But today, the voices are not mere personalities that I can swat away or ignore for a few more days, weeks, months. They are not the voice of my mother as she shakes her head or nods in approval during my daily routine.
Terrorism. Citizenship. Betrayal. Discouragement. Retaliation. Hate. Anxiety. Rapture. These are the voices that are milling around in the social speak-easy that is my brain. They group together and move away in a dance that leaves me confused and angry. I will admit they are always there, but are unusually loud and more emotional today.
Terrorism is defined, simply as "the use of violence and threats to intimidate or coerce, especially for political purposes; the state of fear or submission produced by terrorism or terrorization. Terrorists are bad, aren't they? Aside from the pictures our media and our minds conjure up, what really is a terrorist? A bully? Someone who doesn't agree with you and violently or viciously causes you to change your opinion or stance? Anyone who makes you do something against your will? I've even heard some describe parenting as terrorism of children as we mold and shape these little minds and bodies into frankensteins of ourselves in an attempt to create an historic memoriam of meager lives. If someone tried to put your head in a toilet, you'd kick and scream to make them stop, right? If you saw that someone was going to drive off a cliff, you'd try to stop them, wouldn't you? If you care about something deeply, you should fight to keep it precious and untouched, shouldn't you?
Citizenship. What is it about our country that makes people flock to it in droves and then try to change it to the way it was 'back home'? And, what's so wrong with pledging your allegiance to a country that is providing you room, board, education and employment? If you come to my country then shouldn't you be willing to be loyal to the country you are in? And, what, exactly is the issue with becoming a legal, tax-paying, voting citizen of that country? If your country was so great, then why did you leave? Many people have lost their lives to make this the finest country in the world; the country where people sneak across borders, hide in jet airplanes and make dangerous crossings in boats just to say that they live here.
Betrayal. I feel betrayed by my representatives, my President, my state and most of my family and friends. I can't believe you actually think that putting us further into the sinkhole by providing free access to everything that those of us that WORK, work hard for, will make this country any more than a dependant slave. It will not make all people equal. There will still be those that work and those that don't. If you don't work, you don't eat. This is a law of nature. It doesn't change just because you want it to.
Discouragement. This has been a sad 400 + days for our country. We used to be the greatest country in the world. Now, we are sad and pathetic. I'm not saying the guys before are blameless. But the downhill speed seems to be picking up and I'd like to get off, please.
Retaliation & Hate. This is the opposite of the "Tolerance" we are bombarded with. You/they can call me/us members of the "vast right-wing conspiracy, radical-rights, righties and homophobic religious nuts." Great, if you mean that I believe in less government, more businesses, free enterprise and laws that protect my family, my income and my homeland. Sure, if you mean that I believe that marriage is between one man and one woman, both consenting adults, who want to live together as nature intended, and procreate (or not) with the intention of being a family, indivisible by anything except death. NOT between two people who are sexually attracted to each other and want to be acceptable in the eyes of the law and of God by standing in front of a judicial building, having a piece of paper signed legalizing their union so that they can lawfully be in each others' will, adopt or create a child with indeterminate DNA-orientation and a confused ideal of how nature intended families should be and hopefully stay together until they become attracted to someone else or decide they're no longer drawn that way. Of course I'm intolerant when you think it's more desirable to use abortion as birth control, use those "fetus' who are not really human" to experiment scientifically in hopes of creating a cure or treatment for some disease that is in most instances the consequence of choosing to follow habits that are against nature. You want choice? Choose to make the right decisions and accept the consequences for the choices you made.
Anxiety. I have to admit my anxiety is mostly gone after the ranting above. But I am anxious about getting my affairs in order. I believe it is a very short time before those of us who believe in the Lord Jesus Christ will be removed from this world and caused to endure the vision of the suffering of those who chose not to believe. I am not gloating. I am praying.
Rapture. I do not believe there is an earthly solution to Palestine and Israel, or the Middle East. I do not believe that Obama is the anti-christ. I do not believe that I will die before I am raptured. I do not believe that I will endure the suffering that is written in Revelation. Yes, I am Pre-Tribulation. I am truly sorry for those of my friends and family that have chosen to ignore my "rants" over the years, no matter how poorly I worded them. The truth has been there for many, many years and there are many people that have tried to plant the seeds, and have been turned away. Again, I am not gloating or celebrating that people I have grown fond of on earth may well never see me (nor I them) in heaven or the new Heaven and Earth. I cannot explain all the intricacies of God's plan for His believers. That's not my job. My job is to introduce you to His love, His grace, His salvation. If I have failed you in this, I apologize.
You may choose to unfriend me or write hateful and mean things about me in an attempt to quiet my voice. But the voices scream too loudly in my head for me to drown them out today. If you did not like me as I was yesterday, you will certainly not like me as I am tomorrow or in the future. You should remember that I have not lied about my emotions or opinions or beliefs; as I feel you have not lied about yours. If you truly expected to be a friend, then you should also expect our friendship to have the integrity of honesty and trust. Friendships built on anything less are not friendships. If my honesty and passions are uncomfortable for you, you might evaluate if you are uncomfortable with me or with my unwavering belief in what I know to be true. Or possibly your unrest at the small voice you have quieted time and time again that says that just possibly, I (and others like me) may be right. Sometimes the voices are right.
Terrorism. Citizenship. Betrayal. Discouragement. Retaliation. Hate. Anxiety. Rapture. These are the voices that are milling around in the social speak-easy that is my brain. They group together and move away in a dance that leaves me confused and angry. I will admit they are always there, but are unusually loud and more emotional today.
Terrorism is defined, simply as "the use of violence and threats to intimidate or coerce, especially for political purposes; the state of fear or submission produced by terrorism or terrorization
Citizenship. What is it about our country that makes people flock to it in droves and then try to change it to the way it was 'back home'? And, what's so wrong with pledging your allegiance to a country that is providing you room, board, education and employment? If you come to my country then shouldn't you be willing to be loyal to the country you are in? And, what, exactly is the issue with becoming a legal, tax-paying, voting citizen of that country? If your country was so great, then why did you leave? Many people have lost their lives to make this the finest country in the world; the country where people sneak across borders, hide in jet airplanes and make dangerous crossings in boats just to say that they live here.
Betrayal. I feel betrayed by my representatives, my President, my state and most of my family and friends. I can't believe you actually think that putting us further into the sinkhole by providing free access to everything that those of us that WORK, work hard for, will make this country any more than a dependant slave. It will not make all people equal. There will still be those that work and those that don't. If you don't work, you don't eat. This is a law of nature. It doesn't change just because you want it to.
Discouragement. This has been a sad 400 + days for our country. We used to be the greatest country in the world. Now, we are sad and pathetic. I'm not saying the guys before are blameless. But the downhill speed seems to be picking up and I'd like to get off, please.
Retaliation & Hate. This is the opposite of the "Tolerance" we are bombarded with. You/they can call me/us members of the "vast right-wing conspiracy, radical-rights, righties and homophobic religious nuts." Great, if you mean that I believe in less government, more businesses, free enterprise and laws that protect my family, my income and my homeland. Sure, if you mean that I believe that marriage is between one man and one woman, both consenting adults, who want to live together as nature intended, and procreate (or not) with the intention of being a family, indivisible by anything except death. NOT between two people who are sexually attracted to each other and want to be acceptable in the eyes of the law and of God by standing in front of a judicial building, having a piece of paper signed legalizing their union so that they can lawfully be in each others' will, adopt or create a child with indeterminate DNA-orientation and a confused ideal of how nature intended families should be and hopefully stay together until they become attracted to someone else or decide they're no longer drawn that way. Of course I'm intolerant when you think it's more desirable to use abortion as birth control, use those "fetus' who are not really human" to experiment scientifically in hopes of creating a cure or treatment for some disease that is in most instances the consequence of choosing to follow habits that are against nature. You want choice? Choose to make the right decisions and accept the consequences for the choices you made.
Anxiety. I have to admit my anxiety is mostly gone after the ranting above. But I am anxious about getting my affairs in order. I believe it is a very short time before those of us who believe in the Lord Jesus Christ will be removed from this world and caused to endure the vision of the suffering of those who chose not to believe. I am not gloating. I am praying.
Rapture. I do not believe there is an earthly solution to Palestine and Israel, or the Middle East. I do not believe that Obama is the anti-christ. I do not believe that I will die before I am raptured. I do not believe that I will endure the suffering that is written in Revelation. Yes, I am Pre-Tribulation. I am truly sorry for those of my friends and family that have chosen to ignore my "rants" over the years, no matter how poorly I worded them. The truth has been there for many, many years and there are many people that have tried to plant the seeds, and have been turned away. Again, I am not gloating or celebrating that people I have grown fond of on earth may well never see me (nor I them) in heaven or the new Heaven and Earth. I cannot explain all the intricacies of God's plan for His believers. That's not my job. My job is to introduce you to His love, His grace, His salvation. If I have failed you in this, I apologize.
You may choose to unfriend me or write hateful and mean things about me in an attempt to quiet my voice. But the voices scream too loudly in my head for me to drown them out today. If you did not like me as I was yesterday, you will certainly not like me as I am tomorrow or in the future. You should remember that I have not lied about my emotions or opinions or beliefs; as I feel you have not lied about yours. If you truly expected to be a friend, then you should also expect our friendship to have the integrity of honesty and trust. Friendships built on anything less are not friendships. If my honesty and passions are uncomfortable for you, you might evaluate if you are uncomfortable with me or with my unwavering belief in what I know to be true. Or possibly your unrest at the small voice you have quieted time and time again that says that just possibly, I (and others like me) may be right. Sometimes the voices are right.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Impeach or not to Impeach?
A lot of electronic traffic today regarding impeaching President Obama. I admit it makes one feel better to talk about it. But the reality is that if Obama is impeached, the next in line is Joe Biden. Then it's Nancy Pelosi, Robert Byrd and then Hillary Clinton. The Line of Succession is mentioned in the Constitution in two places. I don't think any of the choices offered after Obama are better than the man himself. In fact, they would quite literally be worse.
Although I am unhappy with our current president and his apparent lack of experience, inability to be honest about his promises and semi-meglomaniacal tendencies, I don't think impeaching him is legal nor realistic. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place here. I'm supposed to pray for those in authority (1 Timothy 2:1-4)
1I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone— 2for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. 3This is good, and pleases God our Savior, 4who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth.
Okay, so what do I pray? I could pray that he fail, or die or disappear (an alien abduction might not be a bad thing). I could pray that all the people "blinded" by their selfishness and ignorance would see the light. I could pray that all my liberal friends and relatives would see the error of their ways (they might be praying that I see the error in mine).
So, I pray what I always pray when I don't know what exactly to pray: for wisdom. Wisdom on my part to see through all the hype and hysterics -- on both sides. Wisdom for our local leaders to vote what is right and make decisions for the benefit of the people, not themselves. Wisdom for our national leaders to uphold our consitution through their daily decisions. Wisdom for the President to make decisions that are in God's design (even if he doesn't know it).
I believe God has a plan for our country and our world. And, I believe that even if I am frightened or paranoid or uncertain or angry about the world that is being created around me, I need to stand in the fact that God has this plan and that it will come to pass no matter what. And, since I believe that this plan included Obama, I need to pray even more for the wisdom to make it through these days, weeks, months, years until God comes back to take his people home.
Although I am unhappy with our current president and his apparent lack of experience, inability to be honest about his promises and semi-meglomaniacal tendencies, I don't think impeaching him is legal nor realistic. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place here. I'm supposed to pray for those in authority (1 Timothy 2:1-4)
1I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone— 2for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. 3This is good, and pleases God our Savior, 4who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth.
Okay, so what do I pray? I could pray that he fail, or die or disappear (an alien abduction might not be a bad thing). I could pray that all the people "blinded" by their selfishness and ignorance would see the light. I could pray that all my liberal friends and relatives would see the error of their ways (they might be praying that I see the error in mine).
So, I pray what I always pray when I don't know what exactly to pray: for wisdom. Wisdom on my part to see through all the hype and hysterics -- on both sides. Wisdom for our local leaders to vote what is right and make decisions for the benefit of the people, not themselves. Wisdom for our national leaders to uphold our consitution through their daily decisions. Wisdom for the President to make decisions that are in God's design (even if he doesn't know it).
I believe God has a plan for our country and our world. And, I believe that even if I am frightened or paranoid or uncertain or angry about the world that is being created around me, I need to stand in the fact that God has this plan and that it will come to pass no matter what. And, since I believe that this plan included Obama, I need to pray even more for the wisdom to make it through these days, weeks, months, years until God comes back to take his people home.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Retail, Panhandling and the Economy
So, today I'm taking one of *my* kids to a doctor appointment and I drive by this road that frequently has panhandlers. It's at the end of a freeway offramp -- the corner is level and not very far from some stores, banks, commerce. It's also a fairly major intersection where there are LOTS and lots of cars.
My children (ages 11, 16, 27 & 31) have long been subjected to my diatribes about panhandling. Most people that know me know that I am completely, absolutely, 100% against panhandling in any form. I think it's legitimized thievery. Panhandling today is nothing like "begging" was in historical times; say Biblical times. My experience with panhandlers is that many (if not all) of them could be working somewhere -- several somewheres -- but it's *easier* to just ask for money instead of earn it. Yes, I realize they sit in the rain and the snow and the sleet and the hail and the sun and the wind...and that they probably couldn't support themselves by working at McDonalds. I also realize that many of them have mental illness, trauma, or other life issues they are dealing with. Boo Hoo.
I have worked three part-time jobs while caring for two at-home children while my husband worked full-time to make ends meet. I have never been without a job unless I didn't want one. I have worked as a baby sitter, cashier, receptionist, production assistant, waitress, secretary, office manager, store clerk, retail/returns and nanny. I have two years of college education and completed High School with a diploma. I do not possess a Master's, Bachelor's or Doctorate degree, or anything close to it. I have never, ever, ever, had to panhandle.
I try to be gracious when I explain to my children about panhandling. My children know I never, ever, ever give money to panhandlers. I will donate to food banks, give clothing and toys to charity services, write checks to organizations, but I never give money to anyone asking on the side of the road. "Get a Job" I usually say (in the car, not to them directly as I don't really want to be mean or unkind). "I wonder how desperate you have to be to beg all day at the side of a road." Sometimes, we have quite a conversation about the signage, fashion sense or "partners" of the panhandlers. Although the dog is a nice touch, making your child(ren) sit all day with you is quite close to abusive.
I have a few favorites: "Pregnant and Homeless, Please help" or "Need money to buy Dog Food" or "Lost job, have xx children, need money for food". Actually, that pretty much sums them all up.
So, today, as i'm driving to the doctor appointment, at this corner where there are always panhandlers, I stop at the red light behind all the other cars. A man is walking along the side holding a sign that says "Buy a Rose, $3.00 Veteran Please Help" In his hand he is holding three individually wrapped roses. At the corner is a bucket (presumably with water) holding more individually wrapped roses in a variety of colors. One of *my* kids (because even my nanny kids know me pretty well), reads the sign and says "Is he selling those roses?". I answer yes, and we begin to discuss the difference between panhandling and what this man is doing.
He is offering something in return. He has taken the time to purchase roses somewhere, put them in a bucket with water and sell them to people in exchange for money. He is not asking for a free hand out. He is not asking for me to give him money in exchange for the possibility that he really has xxx children and needs the money for food. He is relatively cleanly dressed, smiling and walking his path with his roses; his wares in his hand.
I wish I had cash with me today. I rarely carry it with me. When I do have cash, it is usually consumed by my husband wanting to purchase coffee on his way to work (because he's already spent his "allowance"). Or one of the kids needs money for a field trip lunch or popcorn day. Or, there happen to be Girl Scouts selling cookies ANYWHERE. Today, as I sat and waited for the light to turn green, I pulled my purse off the passenger seat, opened up the pocket where I keep cash (when I have it) and dug through that pocket. Twice.
I can't guarantee this man would actually spend the money on food. He might not really be a veteran. He might not be homeless. He probably won't report his income to the IRS. But he took the time to offer a service in return for monetary reimbursement. He's not just standing out there asking strangers to throw money at him.
He is a business man.
My children (ages 11, 16, 27 & 31) have long been subjected to my diatribes about panhandling. Most people that know me know that I am completely, absolutely, 100% against panhandling in any form. I think it's legitimized thievery. Panhandling today is nothing like "begging" was in historical times; say Biblical times. My experience with panhandlers is that many (if not all) of them could be working somewhere -- several somewheres -- but it's *easier* to just ask for money instead of earn it. Yes, I realize they sit in the rain and the snow and the sleet and the hail and the sun and the wind...and that they probably couldn't support themselves by working at McDonalds. I also realize that many of them have mental illness, trauma, or other life issues they are dealing with. Boo Hoo.
I have worked three part-time jobs while caring for two at-home children while my husband worked full-time to make ends meet. I have never been without a job unless I didn't want one. I have worked as a baby sitter, cashier, receptionist, production assistant, waitress, secretary, office manager, store clerk, retail/returns and nanny. I have two years of college education and completed High School with a diploma. I do not possess a Master's, Bachelor's or Doctorate degree, or anything close to it. I have never, ever, ever, had to panhandle.
I try to be gracious when I explain to my children about panhandling. My children know I never, ever, ever give money to panhandlers. I will donate to food banks, give clothing and toys to charity services, write checks to organizations, but I never give money to anyone asking on the side of the road. "Get a Job" I usually say (in the car, not to them directly as I don't really want to be mean or unkind). "I wonder how desperate you have to be to beg all day at the side of a road." Sometimes, we have quite a conversation about the signage, fashion sense or "partners" of the panhandlers. Although the dog is a nice touch, making your child(ren) sit all day with you is quite close to abusive.
I have a few favorites: "Pregnant and Homeless, Please help" or "Need money to buy Dog Food" or "Lost job, have xx children, need money for food". Actually, that pretty much sums them all up.
So, today, as i'm driving to the doctor appointment, at this corner where there are always panhandlers, I stop at the red light behind all the other cars. A man is walking along the side holding a sign that says "Buy a Rose, $3.00 Veteran Please Help" In his hand he is holding three individually wrapped roses. At the corner is a bucket (presumably with water) holding more individually wrapped roses in a variety of colors. One of *my* kids (because even my nanny kids know me pretty well), reads the sign and says "Is he selling those roses?". I answer yes, and we begin to discuss the difference between panhandling and what this man is doing.
He is offering something in return. He has taken the time to purchase roses somewhere, put them in a bucket with water and sell them to people in exchange for money. He is not asking for a free hand out. He is not asking for me to give him money in exchange for the possibility that he really has xxx children and needs the money for food. He is relatively cleanly dressed, smiling and walking his path with his roses; his wares in his hand.
I wish I had cash with me today. I rarely carry it with me. When I do have cash, it is usually consumed by my husband wanting to purchase coffee on his way to work (because he's already spent his "allowance"). Or one of the kids needs money for a field trip lunch or popcorn day. Or, there happen to be Girl Scouts selling cookies ANYWHERE. Today, as I sat and waited for the light to turn green, I pulled my purse off the passenger seat, opened up the pocket where I keep cash (when I have it) and dug through that pocket. Twice.
I can't guarantee this man would actually spend the money on food. He might not really be a veteran. He might not be homeless. He probably won't report his income to the IRS. But he took the time to offer a service in return for monetary reimbursement. He's not just standing out there asking strangers to throw money at him.
He is a business man.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Freedom vs. Separation
I didn't start the blog to voice my political or religious opinions solely; however as I am opinionated about religion, politics, children and lots of other things, I will probably, more frequently than not, babble on about any of them. The good thing about venting here is that it will probably keep me off Face Book more and many of my friends will be happy about that. :)
So, in this country, our America, we have Freedom of Religion and the Separation of Church and State. I believe these are two individual things in one amendment that define the basis of ideals in our country; however individual doesn't mean they don't occasionally meld.
The amendement to the Constitution called "Freedom of Religion" reads "Amendment 1 - Freedom of Religion, Press, Expression. Ratified 12/15/1791.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."
http://www.usconstitution.net/const.html#Am1
To me, this means that the government, the "state" can neither deny nor demand what religion -- or lack of religion -- I (or you) choose. It also means they can't tell me my religion is less or more correct, acceptable or valid than any other religion. Conversely, it also means you don't have to believe in any religion, attend a specific denomination or building, wear certain symbols or represent any specific religion unless you desire to.
What confuses me about how our country seems to view this amendment, is that instead of supporting all religions; certain religions are more likely to receive censure or criticism than others for merely existing in society.
For example (which certainly may not be the case everywhere but this is my blog), why is it now unacceptable to have a Christmas Tree, Christmas Play, Nativity scene, or religious songs of the December holiday variety in public schools? And what happened to "Christmas Break"? This has now been replaced with the word "holiday" so it doesn't offend other religions. Okay, no offense meant, but is it then necessary to take out ALL mention of "Christmas" but replace it with Hannukah, Kwanzaa and other winter-type-holiday traditions in exclusion of CHRISTMAS? And what's with the whole "Happy Holidays" thing? I confess I say it often, although usually as an inclusive of the Thanksgiving/Christmas/Hannukah/New Year's period of the year. It's not some rebellious streak of mine showing through to thumb my nose at all my non-religious friends. It's like saying "Hello, How are you?" or "See you again soon."
Don't get me wrong. I want my children to learn about other relgions, traditions, cultures, people. But my feeling is that it's okay for them to learn about any other relgions, traditions, cultures, people EXCEPT Christianity. My friend says this is because it's assumed that most people are Christian and therefore that teaching would be going on at home. I guess that depends on how you define Christianity. But quite a few people that I know don't consider themselves religious, let alone Christian. They don't seem to be upset in having their child taught Judaism, Buddhism, Muslim -- but bristle at the mere thought of Christianity being taught in a public school. I don't understand the difference.
I don't understand the evil in posting the Ten Commandments. Anywhere. What is it about those 10 orders that just get under people's skin and make them want to smash marble? Isn't is a good thing to remind people not to kill, lie, cheat, steal, covet, and to remind them to honor their parents and keep their marriages intact? I'm sure its evil because it comes from the Christian Bible. No one would complain if we posted the "10 suggestions" from the Koran, the Septuagint or the Book of Mormon.
And, is it such a stretch to teach the theory of creation alongside the theory of evolution? I personally don't believe Creation is a theory, but I also don't believe I descended now or ever from monkeys. My children act like monkeys sometimes, but they also act like cats, dogs and sometimes horses. That doesn't make them a descendent.
But I digress. My original purpose was to show you the separateness yet cohesiveness of these two ideas. If we are free to believe as we want, and the government can't tell us which of us is right or wrong, doesn't that mean that My God, My religion, My Church, My theory is as valid as yours? Shouldn't that mean that my children have the right to learn about ALL religions -- not just the ones that 'don't offend anyone'? Wouldn't you think more people would be upset about the discrimination that occurs when one religion is reduced to a footnote, while others are highlighted as the conventional and more acceptable choice?
Isn't my freedom of religion being quashed by the government in denying that my religion, my beliefs, my ideals are just as acceptable as others?
So, in this country, our America, we have Freedom of Religion and the Separation of Church and State. I believe these are two individual things in one amendment that define the basis of ideals in our country; however individual doesn't mean they don't occasionally meld.
The amendement to the Constitution called "Freedom of Religion" reads "Amendment 1 - Freedom of Religion, Press, Expression. Ratified 12/15/1791.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."
http://www.usconstitution.net/const.html#Am1
To me, this means that the government, the "state" can neither deny nor demand what religion -- or lack of religion -- I (or you) choose. It also means they can't tell me my religion is less or more correct, acceptable or valid than any other religion. Conversely, it also means you don't have to believe in any religion, attend a specific denomination or building, wear certain symbols or represent any specific religion unless you desire to.
What confuses me about how our country seems to view this amendment, is that instead of supporting all religions; certain religions are more likely to receive censure or criticism than others for merely existing in society.
For example (which certainly may not be the case everywhere but this is my blog), why is it now unacceptable to have a Christmas Tree, Christmas Play, Nativity scene, or religious songs of the December holiday variety in public schools? And what happened to "Christmas Break"? This has now been replaced with the word "holiday" so it doesn't offend other religions. Okay, no offense meant, but is it then necessary to take out ALL mention of "Christmas" but replace it with Hannukah, Kwanzaa and other winter-type-holiday traditions in exclusion of CHRISTMAS? And what's with the whole "Happy Holidays" thing? I confess I say it often, although usually as an inclusive of the Thanksgiving/Christmas/Hannukah/New Year's period of the year. It's not some rebellious streak of mine showing through to thumb my nose at all my non-religious friends. It's like saying "Hello, How are you?" or "See you again soon."
Don't get me wrong. I want my children to learn about other relgions, traditions, cultures, people. But my feeling is that it's okay for them to learn about any other relgions, traditions, cultures, people EXCEPT Christianity. My friend says this is because it's assumed that most people are Christian and therefore that teaching would be going on at home. I guess that depends on how you define Christianity. But quite a few people that I know don't consider themselves religious, let alone Christian. They don't seem to be upset in having their child taught Judaism, Buddhism, Muslim -- but bristle at the mere thought of Christianity being taught in a public school. I don't understand the difference.
I don't understand the evil in posting the Ten Commandments. Anywhere. What is it about those 10 orders that just get under people's skin and make them want to smash marble? Isn't is a good thing to remind people not to kill, lie, cheat, steal, covet, and to remind them to honor their parents and keep their marriages intact? I'm sure its evil because it comes from the Christian Bible. No one would complain if we posted the "10 suggestions" from the Koran, the Septuagint or the Book of Mormon.
And, is it such a stretch to teach the theory of creation alongside the theory of evolution? I personally don't believe Creation is a theory, but I also don't believe I descended now or ever from monkeys. My children act like monkeys sometimes, but they also act like cats, dogs and sometimes horses. That doesn't make them a descendent.
But I digress. My original purpose was to show you the separateness yet cohesiveness of these two ideas. If we are free to believe as we want, and the government can't tell us which of us is right or wrong, doesn't that mean that My God, My religion, My Church, My theory is as valid as yours? Shouldn't that mean that my children have the right to learn about ALL religions -- not just the ones that 'don't offend anyone'? Wouldn't you think more people would be upset about the discrimination that occurs when one religion is reduced to a footnote, while others are highlighted as the conventional and more acceptable choice?
Isn't my freedom of religion being quashed by the government in denying that my religion, my beliefs, my ideals are just as acceptable as others?
Monday, March 15, 2010
I wonder sometimes -- most times actually -- at people's attitudes towards life. Don't try new things, don't make mistakes, don't do anything out of the ordinary, don't get your hopes up...
What is the worst that could happen? You can fail. Failure isn't always a bad thing. Usually it's a learning experience. Granted, sometimes failure is painful. Sometimes it gets you into situations you have to get out of. But most of the time, failure is a great teacher.
Consider, for instance, trying to make a marriage work after heartbreak. I'm talking about a specific marriage here -- not mine, a friend's. The worst that could happen (work with me here) is that the spouses realize they aren't meant to be together and can (hopefully) amicably part their ways. Yes, sometimes things don't work out. But these two people are working through problems, seeing counselors, going to church, reading books and working every day on healing their marriage. And, they are happier than I've ever seen them. EVER.
Who am I -- or anyone else -- to bet that it won't work out? And WHY would anyone hinder that positive work by treating either one of the spouses negatively? What possible benefit could it provide to the couple? And why would you talk that way to or about someone you supposedly care about?
I guess maybe they fear the failure or mistakes are too great to overcome. Or they don't believe that people can change for the better. Or their baggage is to heavy to carry so they want to pass it on to someone else. Maybe it's just easier to believe the bad things.
I think the best thing we can teach our children, do for our friends (or family), learn ourselves is to NEVER be afraid to try. Try new foods, new books, new friendships, new careers, new travels, new ideas. If you're more afraid of failing than you are of trying, you might as well not even get out of bed in the morning.
What is the worst that could happen? You can fail. Failure isn't always a bad thing. Usually it's a learning experience. Granted, sometimes failure is painful. Sometimes it gets you into situations you have to get out of. But most of the time, failure is a great teacher.
Consider, for instance, trying to make a marriage work after heartbreak. I'm talking about a specific marriage here -- not mine, a friend's. The worst that could happen (work with me here) is that the spouses realize they aren't meant to be together and can (hopefully) amicably part their ways. Yes, sometimes things don't work out. But these two people are working through problems, seeing counselors, going to church, reading books and working every day on healing their marriage. And, they are happier than I've ever seen them. EVER.
Who am I -- or anyone else -- to bet that it won't work out? And WHY would anyone hinder that positive work by treating either one of the spouses negatively? What possible benefit could it provide to the couple? And why would you talk that way to or about someone you supposedly care about?
I guess maybe they fear the failure or mistakes are too great to overcome. Or they don't believe that people can change for the better. Or their baggage is to heavy to carry so they want to pass it on to someone else. Maybe it's just easier to believe the bad things.
I think the best thing we can teach our children, do for our friends (or family), learn ourselves is to NEVER be afraid to try. Try new foods, new books, new friendships, new careers, new travels, new ideas. If you're more afraid of failing than you are of trying, you might as well not even get out of bed in the morning.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Thanksgiving isn't a Holiday in November
Yesterday I was involved in a car accident. I wasn't at fault and I was not hurt. I learned some things that I'll hopefully never need to know like to take photos of ALL vehicles involved in the accident (I took photos of my car); get insurance and drivers license information, as well as contact (mobile and home numbers and address) of all persons involved. I learned how valuable it is to have a witness to the incident and the value of having that witness take the time to pull over and give his information for my use. I also learned that I should have called the police while the other driver was still there in order to file a report.
Without going into too many details, I still have a lot of things to take care of before the 'accident' is over. Phone calls, rental car, emails, checking car values, loss of time and just plain inconvenience of all the work that goes into resolving the claim.
However, in the midst of all that annoyance, I am very thankful. I am thankful I was driving the larger vehicle. I am thankful that no one was hurt (including, apparently the other driver). I am thankful that I didn't have a car full of children as I usually do in the midst of my daily running around. I am thankful for friends I could call to help out and for the friends that called to make sure I was okay. I am thankful for a cell phone that I could use to call all the numbers I needed to call in order to file the claim, let my husband know I was okay, arrange for my son to get a ride home from baseball practice and call the police.
I think I need to learn to be thankful for many of the things I take for granted on a daily basis, instead of always looking at the 'bad' things in my day. Both my husband and I are employed and we are able to pay our bills (even if we do spend more than we should). We have healthy children and live in a home that is sound, in a good neighborhood and close to our friends. Our friends that live near and far truly care for us (and we for them). And, I have a God that has a plan for my life, even when I can't see the purpose in what's happening.
Thanksgiving needs to be a daily thing, don't you think?
Without going into too many details, I still have a lot of things to take care of before the 'accident' is over. Phone calls, rental car, emails, checking car values, loss of time and just plain inconvenience of all the work that goes into resolving the claim.
However, in the midst of all that annoyance, I am very thankful. I am thankful I was driving the larger vehicle. I am thankful that no one was hurt (including, apparently the other driver). I am thankful that I didn't have a car full of children as I usually do in the midst of my daily running around. I am thankful for friends I could call to help out and for the friends that called to make sure I was okay. I am thankful for a cell phone that I could use to call all the numbers I needed to call in order to file the claim, let my husband know I was okay, arrange for my son to get a ride home from baseball practice and call the police.
I think I need to learn to be thankful for many of the things I take for granted on a daily basis, instead of always looking at the 'bad' things in my day. Both my husband and I are employed and we are able to pay our bills (even if we do spend more than we should). We have healthy children and live in a home that is sound, in a good neighborhood and close to our friends. Our friends that live near and far truly care for us (and we for them). And, I have a God that has a plan for my life, even when I can't see the purpose in what's happening.
Thanksgiving needs to be a daily thing, don't you think?
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Okay, so i used to think that Robin Hood was a hero. I guess most kids did. Living in a forest, eating what they could find, shooting bows and arrows, stealing food and money. Wait, STEALING?
I guess his motives were pure. I mean people were dying due to lack of food, clean water and good living conditions. Those that could work couldn't make enough to support and feed their families. Those that couldn't work were left to die. Taxes were unrealistically high to support Prince John's programs. If you couldn't pay, you were imprisoned or put to death. Not a great way to live.
As an adult, I now realize that good ol' Robin was just practicing "Social Justice": wealth re-distribution, equality and fairness for all. It just wasn't fair that Prince John could take every one's money to use for his needs at the expense of the people who worked for it. If all people are equal, then the rich shouldn't have more money than the poor. In fact, there shouldn't be poor people. Those that are rich should be forcibly made to part with their wealth in order to achieve the equality for all. (I actually think Robin was a little peeved that he'd lost his wealth.)
This idea completely erases the need for charitable contributions in society. If what is earned is taken from those that have to give to those that don't, there won't be the need or desire to GIVE money or time or things away to help others. Biblically we are to help those in need. James 1:27 states (NIV): "That God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and keep oneself from being polluted by the world." However, we are also asked to give cheerfully and not reluctantly. 2 Corinthians 9:7 (NIV): "Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver."
Today it's hard to know who is Robin Hood and who is "Prince John". Maybe there's no difference. By attempting to practice social justice -- fairness for all people in health care, housing, food, employment -- the greater good is diminished through forcibly taking from the rich to give to the poor. If we all live up to our Biblical directives, there will still be poor, but their needs will be met by God and by cheerful and dedicated givers.
And all this time i thought Prince John and the Sheriff of Nottingham were the bad guys...
I guess his motives were pure. I mean people were dying due to lack of food, clean water and good living conditions. Those that could work couldn't make enough to support and feed their families. Those that couldn't work were left to die. Taxes were unrealistically high to support Prince John's programs. If you couldn't pay, you were imprisoned or put to death. Not a great way to live.
As an adult, I now realize that good ol' Robin was just practicing "Social Justice": wealth re-distribution, equality and fairness for all. It just wasn't fair that Prince John could take every one's money to use for his needs at the expense of the people who worked for it. If all people are equal, then the rich shouldn't have more money than the poor. In fact, there shouldn't be poor people. Those that are rich should be forcibly made to part with their wealth in order to achieve the equality for all. (I actually think Robin was a little peeved that he'd lost his wealth.)
This idea completely erases the need for charitable contributions in society. If what is earned is taken from those that have to give to those that don't, there won't be the need or desire to GIVE money or time or things away to help others. Biblically we are to help those in need. James 1:27 states (NIV): "That God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and keep oneself from being polluted by the world." However, we are also asked to give cheerfully and not reluctantly. 2 Corinthians 9:7 (NIV): "Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver."
Today it's hard to know who is Robin Hood and who is "Prince John". Maybe there's no difference. By attempting to practice social justice -- fairness for all people in health care, housing, food, employment -- the greater good is diminished through forcibly taking from the rich to give to the poor. If we all live up to our Biblical directives, there will still be poor, but their needs will be met by God and by cheerful and dedicated givers.
And all this time i thought Prince John and the Sheriff of Nottingham were the bad guys...
Friday, March 12, 2010
Opening Introduction
Wow, my first blog. Quite a few people asked me why I didn't have one. That meant I had to find out what a "blog" was. Then, I had to decide if i really had enough to say. Or if anyone, after reading one entry, would ever come back. So, we'll call this an experiment and leave it at that.
I could tell you all kinds of things about me, personally, but I think it's best if you discover who I am by reading my blog, disagreeing (or agreeing) with me, and helping me feel my way around this whole blogging thing.
Welcome and I hope you come back soon!
I could tell you all kinds of things about me, personally, but I think it's best if you discover who I am by reading my blog, disagreeing (or agreeing) with me, and helping me feel my way around this whole blogging thing.
Welcome and I hope you come back soon!
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