The Heart of the Matter with Confederate Statues

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As we fight about these issues that are arising surrounding Confederate Statues, many are wondering: why now? Why, all of the sudden, are people noticing things they lived next to for decades with not so much as a word of complaint?

This is just a sign that the stubborn facts remain: the malevolent, destructive institution of slavery was dooming our nation to discord and fighting from the start. They should never have allowed it, but because they couldn’t come to an agreement, tragically they did.

Even Washington expressed this foreboding fear: “I can clearly foresee that nothing but the rooting out of slavery can perpetuate the existence of our union, by consolidating it in a common bond of principal.” He was painfully aware it directly contradicted our Declaration of Independence, declaring ALL men were created equal!

He actually told Edmund Randolph, according to Thomas Jefferson’s notes, that if the country were to split over slavery, Washington “had made up his mind to move and be of the northern.”

Many of our Founders who were ambivalent and troubled about allowing slavery had the vain hope that it would end soon by degrees naturally, passing their responsibility on to future generations.

Of course it wasn’t ending naturally because it was economically advantageous to the rich plantation owners, something other smaller nations that had managed to end slavery like Spain, France, and England, didn’t have to deal with. In America it was actually spreading into further parts of the country.

The Civil War split this country in bloody conflict a mere 60 years after President Washington’s death.

His foreboding was right.

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As far as I can tell there is no nation on earth that presently allows slavery legally, and hopefully modern “institutions” of government finally at least acknowledge what an evil it is. Of course, there is more slavery in the world today than at any other time in history because of the much greater size of the world population – but that is ILLEGAL slavery, not legitimized by governments.

Although nations prohibit it, it still exists in heart-wrenching proportions as sex trafficking, child forced labor, and the booty of war for groups like ISIS and Boko Haram, as well as the caste system that, for all intents and purposes, behaves like slavery.

The fact that it still exists in illegitimate forms does not mean we can somehow trivialize America’s terrible history of slavery, as though it doesn’t matter now. Some have even suggested, appallingly, that it was good for the Africans we brought against their will and enslaved, as if our “civilized” way of life was better off for them.

How stunningly blind, cruel and self-serving.

Because slaveholders didn’t understand the culture or agree with the customs of another continent, in no way meant it was better for them to be enslaved, oppressed, and abused with generational lifetimes of forced labor!! How dare we?!

Anyone who has that thought cross their mind may do well to take a few hours and study the horrors of American slavery – watch Roots, or 12 Years a Slave, both based on true accounts.

Then put yourself in the mental image of someone forcibly kidnapping you and your family to a faraway country in the worse possible inhumane conditions, abusing and raping your wife and daughters, tearing your family apart, and basically working you to death from morning till night with no compensation or hope of it ever ending – for you OR your heirs!

Picture it! See your children torn from your loving arms. Watch them being mercilessly beaten. Just empathetically think how it feels for a few minutes yourself to be considered less than human. Inferior. Disposable. Disrespected. Mistreated and abused. Debased.

And this was not only allowed in our nation, it was legitimized in our laws.

Please try to understand. These feelings and the embedded memories they evoke don’t just magically dissipate on their own.

We can see now how that ravaging blight has deep roots that remain, in some areas still treating African-Americans as 2nd class citizens, even with “laws” to protect them.

What many people don’t realize is that most of these Confederate statues went up as a backlash to the civil rights movement in the Jim Crow era, quite a while after the war in the early 1900s to 1950s. They were not like the earlier memorials that were mostly to mourn dead soldiers – these monuments were deliberately put there to instruct and remind people in the public squares, often a form of intimidation in the South. Basically, as a glorification of the cause of the Civil War, and their state’s “right” …the right primarily to continue “their way of life” ~ slavery.

And if you don’t believe that slavery was the de facto cause of the war, then look up the VP of the Confederacy’s Cornerstone address, with these sickeningly shocking, unvarnished remarks:

“Our new government is founded upon exactly [this] idea; its foundations are laid, its corner-stone rests upon the great truth, that the negro is not equal to the white man; that slavery — subordination to the superior race — is his natural and normal condition. This, our new government, is the first, in the history of the world, based upon this great physical, philosophical, and moral truth.”

This is a nauseating reality that simply must be faced by those who don’t want to see it.

I know this is a tough issue, but perhaps we need to just stop and really put ourselves in another’s shoes and understand how this has affected those who have been oppressed and abused, and in many areas still are.

It’s been a difficult journey since the Civil War that officially ended slavery but couldn’t change the hearts of men and women who still embraced an inferior view of the Black race. Racially segregated schools, not allowing Blacks to drink out of the same water fountains, or sit in the same restaurants was happening in MY lifetime! We are not that far removed from legal, institutionalized racism.

This is something that MUST be dealt with head on, instead of continuing to make excuses and pass down the responsibility to future generations. If understanding what these statues symbolize and perpetuate is the next step closer to tearing down those walls of prejudice, and loving my brother, then let’s consider that.

It can be a teaching moment. It’s not changing or re-writing history, pull in the full history. Could we add other facts and statues that reveal ALL we’ve come through? Could we move some to museums, and government buildings, as places that record history, not public squares that glorify the lost cause of a divisive time period?

We must admit we have a problem with racism in America, and it’s not going away on its own.  But I choose to believe that we CAN heal and come together if we will try to LISTEN, understand, and care enough for others to be willing to lay down our own stubborn opinions.  

As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, in accepting his Nobel Peace prize:

 “I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality… I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.”

Me too.

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Yeah…OK, I’m a little crazy

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You know – I know what you’re thinking.

I have special mind-reading powers when it comes to telling you about some of the cutting-edge health research coming out. So much of it is beyond crazy sounding and so outlandish that I’ve begun to easily interpret the looks.

Sometimes I get the knowing nod, like “yeah, you’re crazy.” Or it’s the polite smile which behind the eyes reads, “oh puleeeze…not EVERYTHING is about what I eat or my choice of lifestyle; Leave. Me. Alone!” And there goes the glaze over the eyes and the shutdown.

And of course its true not everything is about what’s on the end of your fork, your stress level or your lack of sleep – I never said it was… It’s just that the stuff I’m teaching about applies to that because… well. I’m a Health Coach! That’s what I do.

But please also accept my apologies – I know I can be annoying, I’m pretty passionate about this stuff. I have to check myself and constantly resist the strong urge when someone says, “I have a hard-boiled egg every day for breakfast”  to admonish, “try a soft-boiled egg, it’s more nutritious”! I am aware that no one wants to have their every move health adjusted.

And it’s not like I don’t get it, why you think I’m kind of nuts.

I do.

Some of this information is so new it’s barely hit the internet yet unless you are in that realm of the world that we crazy health people are in and constantly bombarded with.

And your doctor is most definitely not going to be aware if she/he’s like 95% of them out there in allopathic medicine. I can’t blame them at all!

Medical Doctors have to go through ridiculously rigorous and exhaustive training in medical school, and grueling internships under other similarly trained doctors in hospitals.

By the time they get into practice,  what they’ve learned is usually a decade or more ago, and it is said that typically what is now in new research will not become mainstream acceptable treatment in the medical world for, on average, 17 years. And how in the world are they going to have time to continue to study all this new data emerging with their hectic schedule?

Some of this health stuff that leaves you making that funny face is still in the tedious “research” and trial stage; much through the National Institutes of Health. Funny – so are many of the pharmaceutical drugs being put out there for your consideration. The difference is they are on television. A lot.

So if it’s not on TV we don’t believe it, right? If it’s not part of a multi million dollar ad campaign we might as well not give it a modicum of legitimacy. Sadly, this is what we’ve come to in our social media world. It’s what we’re used to.

And don’t forget — if they can’t patent it and make large profits on it, don’t count on them ever even conducting large clinical trials that supposedly are the only basis for validation. What drug company is going to spend billions, or even millions, on how nutrition or Vitamin C can effectively treat certain illnesses? You can buy that anywhere… they won’t make any money back, so…yup, not happening.

So next time I mention something to you about your vegas nerve and the fact that what you are having for lunch right now could ultimately cause you depression,  I really understand if you roll your eyes; its ok. I don’t want you to just pretend that you’re interested.

But please consider giving me a just a wee bit of a mental nod. Maybe just a teeny tiny crack of possibility??

Remember this. They once rolled their eyes at (and cruelly rejected) the doc who insisted they should wash their hands between working on cadavers and patients because his research was telling him there were teeming millions of bacteria and germs that were invisible to the naked eye… but his then-crazy, out of the box finding, eventually saved millions of lives.

So who knows?…maybe something I say could change your whole life.

Then you could easily read my mind, cause that would make me SO happy you could interpret that look on my face. 😉

 

Happy Birthday, America! May you last, because we kind of forget. A lot. [A 4th of July Post]

I found this sweet little book at a thrift store a year or two ago, and chanced to pick it up yesterday to browse. Wow, why hadn’t I picked it before?! It has a wealth of snippets and excerpts from famous people in history who visited America, retelling what they observed. Insight. Perspective. Adventure!

Read something from another time period, and it provides you with a window into a whole other world.

book

History, ah history… a glorious peek into a people and culture gone before us; instructional, interesting, with panoramic 20/20 hindsight that is often wrought with mistakes that we’re doomed to repeat if we don’t learn from it.

Quite honestly, it seems most of our modern culture now has little clue of history, let alone enough comprehensive knowledge to glean any wisdom to live by. We’re too busy watching the Kardashian’s weird lives, and The Housewives of God knows where who have nothing to offer us but… well, nothing. Today, this seemed good introspection for “our” birthday. I was riveted.

I began with Lafayette, the Frenchman who was only 18 years old when he first “learnt the troubles in America” as news of the 4th of July reached France. He was from an ancient family of French aristocrats; to prove that, his full name: Marie Jean Pau Roch Yves Gilbert Motier, Marquis de Lafayett (how’d you like to have to fit that baby name on a silver cup?).

Lafayette came to America to help fight when he was “scarely 19”, his privileged heart stirred with “my ardent love of liberty and glory” and he had to kind of secretly sneak around to make arrangements to come. He had a friend who became his interpreter (he didn’t speak English) who was “applying for service with the insurgents” in America as they were called at that time (did you know that!?).

God moved on the heart of a highly available man of means to help the rag-tag revolutionaries!

I just love to hear the stories of how things that made the Revolution in America actually possible (and won!) seem to be full of God appointed moments in history, unexplained in the natural. Lafayette said, “the secrecy with which this negotiation and my preparation were made appears almost a miracle; family, friends, ministers, French spies and English spies, all were kept completely in the dark as to my intentions.”

He gets to America on a large ship “when very bad tidings arrived from thence. New York, Long Island, White Plains, Fort Washington, and the Jerseys, had seen the American forces successively destroyed by 33,000 Englishmen or Germans. 3,000 Americans alone remained in arms, and these were closely pursued…”

He goes on that after that it was impossible to obtain a boat for them to get to shore and they tried to persuade him to abandon his project. It was just too dangerous. But he explains to his wife in a letter: “…after having sailed several days along a coast… swarmed with hostile vessels… every body said that my vessel must inevitably be taken, since 2 British frigates blockaded the harbor.”

But THEN (here comes God) “by a most wonderful good fortune, a gale obliged the frigates to stand out to sea for a short time. My vessel came in at noon-day, without meeting friend or foe.”

Yeah!

Coincidence? I don’t think so.

He explains how, in the course of this all taking place, how the world was looking on — watching, waiting to see what would happen. It was the topic of conversation in all of Europe, most thinking nothing could come of it.

England was THE force of the world at the time, as he put it: “after having crowned herself with laurels and enriched herself with conquests; after having become mistress of all seas; and after having insulted all nations, England turned her pride against her own colonies… The Americans, attached to the mother country, contented themselves at first with merely uttering complaints; they only accused the ministry, and the whole nation rose up against them; they were termed insolent and rebellious, and at length declared the enemies of their country: thus did the obstinacy of the king, the violence of the ministers, and the arrogance of the English nation OBLIGE THIRTEEN COLONIES TO RENDER THEMSELVES INDEPENDENT.”

YES!!

His explanation of why it was necessary is important for us to remember today, when we freely enjoy our incredible freedoms, at the sacrifice of thousands who literally laid down their “lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor” to secure them for us. If we don’t remember and continue to carefully guard these freedoms we are on the road to losing them… over the National Archives Museum is posted, “The price of liberty is eternal vigilance”. Yes indeed. We have to be on CONSTANT watch.

Of the struggle, Lafayette wrote:
“Such a glorious cause had never before attracted the attention of mankind; it was the last struggle of Liberty; and, had she then been vanquished, neither hope nor asylum would have remained for her. The oppressors and oppressed were to receive a powerful lesson; the great work was to be accomplished, or the rights of humanity were to fall beneath its ruin…”

Sigh.

Marquis de Lafayette traveled around the world, as wealthy aristocrats were wont to do, trying to explain to all those he met at the highest level in every country what the struggle really was about and dispel myths about the government which was almost universally thought to fail. They’d never seen such a thing as America was trying to do before.

This (our) new form of government was literally an experiment… making a brand new constitution, granting equal power, liberty and opportunity to all it’s citizens (tragically of course, sans slavery — that massive blight on our history that we paid dearly for to correct). It was a huge risk. It was, I think, a miracle of sorts for it to all come together, this birth of a new nation, a new ideal.

How could it work?

Part of the writings of Alexis de Tocqueville, another Frenchman who came to observe, commented that those in leadership in all the various states were not particularly well educated, they didn’t necessarily have the best idea of how to run government, their knowledge of “political science” was limited in his (lofty) opinion…

…BUT “the revolutionists of America are obliged to profess an ostensible respect for Christian morality and equity, which does not easily permit them to violate the laws that oppose their designs…hitherto no one in the United States has dared to advance the maxim that everything is permissible with a view to the interests of society… thus while the law permits the Americans to do what they please, religion (as he called it… I think it was more a relationship with God that went to the deeper heart) prevents them from conceiving, and forbids them to commit, what is rash or unjust.”

Hmmmm.

De Toqueville noticed: “Religion in America takes no direct part in the government of society, but nevertheless if must be regarded as the foremost of the political institutions of that country; for if it does not impart a taste for freedom, it facilitates the use of free institutions… I do not know whether all the Americans have a sincere faith in their religion, for who can search the human heart? But I am certain that they hold it to be indispensable to the maintenance of republican institutions. This opinion is not peculiar to a class of citizens or to a party, BUT IT BELONGS TO THE WHOLE NATION, AND TO EVERY RANK OF SOCIETY…”

What an interesting lesson for us to consider today. Can our nation survive without the heart of love for God and one another, that created a self-government that came from within?

I leave you with Lafayette’s answer to those naysayers about America’s future which he encountered — really, it was a prayer:

“I heartily addressed my prayers to Heaven that, by her known wisdom, patriotism, and liberality of principles, as well as firmness of conduct, America may preserve the consequence she has so well acquired, and continue to command the admiration of the world…”

God, may You shed Your grace on America, from sea to shining sea, and preserve us.

Post Script: As you may have guessed, this post was written on 7/4/15

Tick-Tock… the game’s NOT locked

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NOTE:  I wrote this post in January, hence the “new year resolution” kind of feel… but unexpected interruptions in life, and – ok – my time management challenge has me posting it now. Oops. ‘Better late than never’ has always been a motto I can live with.

HOW PROVOKING

Time is most definitely NOT on my side.  I know I’m dating myself with that line… Some of you (old folks) may know what I am referring to.

Well let’s put it this way – the clock is not my friend. I suppose in reality, swiftly moving time is not the friend to any of us, unless we happen to be sitting in an excruciatingly boring meeting that we can’t wait to finish, or I suppose any number of terrible things that could happen to a person that we want to hurry and get through. But. Most of us don’t like getting older and aging, and there never seems to be enough time in the day to get everything done. Especially in our modern culture where we may try to foolishly pack 15 different things into a day.

I’m pretty sure my grandmother never did that. Of course she also never travelled further than about 20 miles from her home – I mean in her whole life! Heck, in the early years of her life, before they built the house across the street from the church they went to and my father was actually born in, they traveled by horse & buggy and boat to get to church. One thing would take the whole day!

So, why the big revelation now? it seems that right around this time somewhere, 60 years ago, my mother conceived me. In a few days my mother will celebrate her 90th year on earth , therefore, it’s possible she even conceived me on her 30th birthday.😁 This is really provoking me.

To think!

As this is the year that I am turning the big 6-0 , I have begun – several months early – to meditate seriously on and about my life. I’m reflecting on the past 60 years, and considering the next – I don’t know – 30, 40 years? God knows how many I have left. But there is the possibility ( perhaps following the good longevity genes of my mother) that I may be looking at still having a third of my life or so to live. That’s nothing to sniff at .

I have always kind of thought that I was a goal oriented person. But when I really assess it honestly,  that was more wishful thinking than actual planned thinking. Yup. It seems as I dig deep in my memory – which, these days takes a lot more work than it used to- I reluctantly see that, for so many years, I was simply living the goal of either getting through the day, or for someone else. Namely – for the most part – my precious family breathing down my neck (ok? its true – don’t judge me). 😛

That’s certainly not a bad thing, but as the fog cleared from my muddled thinking it dawned on me that the raw truth was my goals were more for the  concerns and issues of those I lived with; daily goals were pretty much to get ‘er done -you know, keep it all rolling (and fall into bed exhausted at night, no questions asked ). Gee, while that may sound noble, skip the violins – how short-sighted. Long term personal goals were almost non-existent. Who had time, or the energy left to do such things? Well obviously lots of people, but I wasn’t one of them apparently.

Oh, man. I hated to admit that. This is not at all what I meant to happen. Of course that was the problem – things in life never just “happen”… There’s a trail you can follow as to the consequences of what we do, or don’t do, and unless we’re very deliberate with our life resources we just stay on the same rutted path marking time instead of really moving forward.

It reminds me of the visual of trying to walk the wrong way on those  “people movers” you see  in airports. If you stop for a moment you for sure go backwards, but to make progress forward you have to really push and work extra hard to actually get somewhere. That feels like life.

My goal had been perhaps to be sure all of my children’s school assignments were done, that they were staying on top of getting a good education in every area… and, more earthly and mundane, being certain they brushed the plaque off their teeth every morning and didn’t embarrass their parents by getting to school with grubby fingernails or looking like they just rolled out of bed . Chasing them down for a nice hair brushing was always fun. Or that they got to their sporting events or had all of the extra curricular activities and things needed in place ( and of course there was the food , always the food – they wanted to eat every day; that’s very time-consuming!) Then as they got older it was taxi-ing everyone around everywhere, vetting important relationships, keeping track of what they were involved in and how their lives were going, and further along, helping them in preparing their future goals like college. All very good things to accomplish. Just not exactly mine.

Reminds me of a quote I heard:

“Embrace your uniqueness.  Time is much too short to be living someone else’s life.” ~ Kobi Yamada

Then as the last one graduated from high school and was off to college leaving our nest empty, I was still in a “regular” job ( the goal of which was to basically maintain our life style, i.e.: keep the lights on ) and I guess that’s just the way I sort of continued to roll – without me thinking much about it. Maintaining the status quo. Lame.

Well, I might have thought about it, but not thinking in the kind of way that actually creates a response to do something different.

Thankfully, it took me having a physical / medical crises to really wake-up to where I was at. Yes, thank God for a physical collapse that seemed like a heart attack! Looking back now I see that as an unanticipated serendipity – a blessing from God. Otherwise I may have just continued to live how things came to me, without a goal in sight. Now, as a Health Coach, I cannot even tell you how many people I have heard the same thing from. It seems to be a wiring problem particularly in women.

To be sure, I had done lots of other wonderful things in between the mandatory jobs in my life – I don’t want to sound like a complete loser, nor minimize some of the amazing events and things I had been privileged to be involved in. But I hadn’t fully considered what I – Katie – was supposed to be doing, in MY God-given destiny. That was a luxury I didn’t seem to have in the past. Or at least that’s how I saw it then. If I had been more actively goal-oriented that may not have been the case.

So here I am. Now, very much in the desired push to really fulfill my goals. To reach my full potential. To do whatever my destiny is. To truly discover completely from my Creator what I was created to be, put that into action and accomplish it. Kind of silly that I’m still asking that around age 60? But of course not!; it’s never too late to take that dream down off the shelf.

I recently came across a newsletter from some company that was talking about those who started late in life – or at least continued on in new adventures late in life. Like the gentleman who started the medical phenomena known as the Mayo Clinic – William Worral Mayo – founded the Clinic at age 70. John Glenn returned to space when he was 77 years old. Frank Lloyd Wright was still working at 91, and Ronald Reagan got elected to his second term as president when he was 73! We all have seen the elder president Bush jumping out of the airplane on his 90th birthday (something on my bucket list incidentally). Those are just a few who didn’t allow their age to stop them from going after what they wanted or fulfilling their purpose.

Again, I know I’m not exactly completely starting new. But even the things I did proudly accomplish didn’t seem to have a cohesive vision that I was actively going after. It was more like things inadvertently presented themselves, opportunities came up and I jumped in. But what about the opportunities that I could create for myself if I really actively pursue them?

I have already come to the place where I realize that for this to happen – duh, this is obvious I know – you have got to make a plan!!  I have already taken a dramatic turn in my life in the last few years as a Health Coach having changed “professions” in my late fifties, and I already have been formulating how I can help others in their health goals. I certainly already have concluded that anyone who wants to make their health better in any area – whether it be exercise or eating, stress relief or sleep, etc – it must begin with making a plan. So what’s the deal – what’s holding me up? Why haven’t I gotten further along with my newly found vision?

So – I am, I will admit, obstinate in many ways and I resist the idea of having someone over me, asking me and making me accountable “have you done what you said you were going to do”. Ugh. Recognizing I have a problem with time management has been hard to face and admit; that hurts (which I am partly going to blame on having too many things I was multitasking through the years, so that my brain has become scattered – it’s true, don’t laugh I read it in an article – and it wasn’t Mad Magazine😆 …and, come on, Facebook and social media are such a distraction!).

I’ve always had a ton to do raising children, being a wife, running around keeping a house, managing everything while holding down a job most of those years as well as being involved in several very committed outside activities in my church and the kids’ school (breathe!) that I just assumed I must be great with my time, or else how could I have done it all? Not too long ago I came across my old Calendar book daytimer from probably 15 years ago – I was amazed at all the things I did every single day! It made my head spin and I thought how in the world did I ever do that?

Was I better at time management then, or was it just that when you’re busy you quite simply HAVE to squeeze everything (and do the flop into bed at night exhausted thing)? Is it perhaps because I don’t have quite as many things that I absolutely positively have no choice in doing now that I suddenly find myself to be frittering away precious time? I’m not sure, but regardless of the reason, I have to make a plan to overcome this obstacle.

So I am on a journey in 2015 to figure this out. This is serious. I’m not getting any younger and I have a burning desire to make the best use of whatever God has given me, in the place He has allowed me to be in history and time. It’s not for nothing, and I believe very sincerely that I will be held accountable in eternity for what I could have done.

It’s sort of like Schindler’s List where he agonized at the end of the movie, thinking  “I could have saved more if I had just sold this watch” or done this or that. What have I done, or more succinctly what have I NOT done, that I could have or should have done, when I was too busy just being carried along with life? I don’t want to face that question at the end of my life – I want to face it now.

So, 2015, here I come! God help me – by listening to You more clearly everyday, gaining wisdom from what I can, and setting the time aside to seek it. To make a grand plan!

I’ll report back to you – that should hold my feet to that fire burning up my time.  Ouch. That hurts so good.

Feelings… we humans are not the only ones with them

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woman screaming download       I’m feeling it today.

We always hear “when it rains it pours”… Another Murphyism I suppose. You know I like Murphy ~ well maybe not like; make that, relate to.

The burdens start to come and seem to pile on bit by bit. My toaster broke last week… if you can call completely melting a child’s beefy plastic spoon in it as broken (I should KNOW better – always look inside things before using them when there are curious grandkids on the prowl). Now the iron burned out yesterday – literally went up in smoke unprovoked (we use this every day – I mean, it was a nice one, with the retractable cord).

Finances have been a challenge with a transition in jobs. Not sure what is going to happen with our health insurance. I have a lot of homework to do that is very technical, read: difficult, for me, trying to squeeze it in here. But those are such tiny minuscule things compared to the burdens that I’ve been feeling for actual people.

Such as my dear friend whose husband is in a prison being brutalized for his faith… not just any prison, but a deadly Iranian prison, where the whole family faces the very real possibility that if God doesn’t intervene they may never see him again.

And another very precious friend whose husband was so burdened down he just took his life; now the family is left behind with so much pain – they will definitely not be seeing him again this side of earth. And while they have the assurance of the love of God in his life and knowing he is now safe, they live with the dreadful burden of that memory that only a sovereign God can heal. I didn’t sleep much last night.

Just got the word this morning that yet another friend’s husband is dying from stage four cancer, and she is struggling with many things and would like prayer. There are simply no guarantees in this life

I’m concerned about my husbands new health issues, my one daughter’s particular on-going health struggle with nursing her baby, my other daughter’s pregnancy and sleep challenges, and another daughter’s stomach issues and life transition that need some serious wisdom and care. Been praying and helping, deeply concerned for a niece that was desperately trying to adopt a daughter and get the house ready for all their requirements against a boat-load of odds, another niece facing possible surgery, and a nephew in life challenges.

It’s all on my mind and in my heart, just like your burdens are in yours. We carry these.

Life happens. And it brings with it many challenges. Many, many challenges! It’s called H U M A N I T Y.   And we will be dealing with this until we leave humanity for the supernatural state of eternity in heaven. Not that there aren’t also great things here on this earth, but wow, I’m really looking forward to that release without the tragic human experience.

But these really hard experiences do actually have their place – and their point. They shape us, and we have a quite a big part in the way in which we will be shaped by our response. When I was trying to type in “brutalized for his faith” it kept auto-correcting to “fertilized for his faith”… I was getting frustrated and kept telling it NO! (as if it can hear me).  But maybe God was trying to speak to me through that annoying little feature that makes up some ridiculous word exchanges when I don’t want them (even that can be used by God – He’s so creative!).

We ARE being fertilized for our faith… things are put on us that can make our faith stronger and grow bigger, more visible and useful. Things that feel like uh, crap…and well, death. “Unless a seed falls in the ground and dies it won’t bring any fruit”….

With that, I am in the middle of preparing a workshop for a woman’s conference, on stress. 😉 Talk about living it. I guess that’s a good thing to have real empathy, not that I needed it – I already knew!

Thank you, dear Lord Jesus, that you know ALL that, even better than I do. You could have just come down one day fully grown, a perfect untouched human specimen and sacrificed Your life that way. But You deliberately chose to live here on this earth, and You walked where we walked in the frail tent of human flesh, blood, and emotion – feeling, suffering, desiring, loving ~ experiencing that tragic human experience. You get it.

Ohhh. So that’s why You did it.  I can relate to YOU even more than Murphy. ❤

I CAN’T help it. I can’t HELP it. I can’t help IT. I need help.

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Right now I’m really in big trouble and feeling awful… Lord help me, all I want to do is eat cookies and drink many pots of coffee.

I know better than this – I’m a health coach.  A HOLISTIC health coach, for cryin’ out loud! You may be asking why would I have cookies… I do have a secret stash of special dark chocolate covered, delicious morsels, that are for very special occasions to be doled out, one by one. But if I get my hands on that box right now the whole sucker’s gone.

By the way, if you’re a family member reading this don’t even begin to try to think where they’re hidden. Not that I might not share them with you… But I’ll see what kind of mood I’m in if I ever get anything done.

(At this point, I’ve procrastinated so much I actually wrote this weeks ago.)

I am so stuck I am going around in circles doing nothing. I do a load of laundry here, scrub a bathroom section there (hey – I just noticed the grout really needs cleaning – why didn’t I see that before?), wash a few dishes and straighten up the kitchen again… Grab another snack. What is going on?

As I make a cup of tea (at least its good organic chamomile tea: I’m barely hanging on, white knuckled here) I am definitely heading straight to my office desk area and am going to buckle down!  Great sigh…

What makes the human brain so convoluted and tend towards putting off for later, again, when it doesn’t know what to do? The overwhelm comes, and for me, it’s paralyzing.  I’ve taken lots of courses and have a myriad of tools, and yet putting them all together in the right order is eluding me so much that I don’t know where to begin.  So… I don’t begin.

The double-edged sword of my incredibly modern virtual office/iPhone, Facebook, the  vast internet and all the thousands of things I have in my computer – saved of course to read someday – creates a massive dilemma.   It’s all so great and amazingly helpful, I don’t know how I lived without it before… and yet it is such a curse that causes me to be completely scattered and unfocused. There is just too much information!!!

My brain is going to self-destruct…

I am dunking my teabag up-and-down, up-and-down, now… but wait – what about a tasty and nutritious piece of toasted Ezekiel raisin bread? How ’bout I pour a nice big tall glass of spring water with Braggs wonderful apple cider vinegar that has the mother-load in it, for some energy? I can take it downstairs to my office with me…

What? WHAT??!! … You think I’m just Procrastinating again?!

procrastinators pic_n

Yup.  Done them all.  Actually today.

Yes Lord, please help me.

Getting old and dirty railings

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So you’re getting old? Great… That means you should be worth more than ever!

By the warailingy, I am so old that I actually had to stop in the middle of what I was doing, cleaning, so I could write this down or else I would never remember.

So here I was, outside scrubbing off all the dirt buildup in the crevices of my outdoor colonial style porch railings (which incidentally was not on my checklist for today… so of course I then immediately added it to my check list, and checked it off. This is very important because it makes you feel like you’ve accomplished more…like, combed my hair, check/ cross off).

Not entirely off the subject but, did those early colonial settlers from England have to make this intricate pattern for their porch rails? Couldn’t they have come up with something easier that we didn’t want to imitate 300 years later? Now I can see the relationship between English muffins and English architectural railings… Look at all those nooks and crannies. What were they thinking? You don’t even get to take advantage of them on railings, with amazing wells of melted butter pooled up ~ so what good are they? Hotbeds for green and black moldy stuff.

Anyway, back to my back-breaking work.  As I was cleaning off lots of dirt and grime in the crevices of the areas that were carved out and molded, it occurred to me that this actually looks sort of like “antiquing.” This is something we like to do to furniture and building designs to make them look more beautiful… You might pay a lot more for something that’s beautifully painted with antiquing in the crevices. My “new” kitchen cabinets have this.  Hmmmmmmm…

That’s weird. Something that 200 years ago they would’ve been out there cleaning and scrubbing away just like me (and trust me, this dirt and grime on my porch did not take 200 years to get there- I wish!) many, many years later we call a beautiful antique. And we try to re-create it too – on purpose.

I actually kind of love that. But why is it that we don’t feel the same way with human beings? As we get older with our beautiful lines and age spots IE: antiquing, WHY isn’t that considered more beautiful and more valuable?

I’m annoyed by this thought. Mostly because I’m getting all of those beautiful lines and age spots.  And, I do love my elders, in addition to being disgusted (ok, jealous) of Hollywood types who have all that expensive re-surfacing work to take away their antique look.

We have become a culture of youth worshippers, thinking we should never, ever actually get old looking.  In fact the worst part is that in many cases, our insides could be in terrible health and crumbling, and what is advertised to us in glossy print that we simply MUST have, is some life changing technique or cream to take away our surface lines.

Ladies and Gentlemen: we are going to get old. Feeling. Moving.  And yes, looking.  I know that 50 is the new 30, and 60 is the new 40 or 35, or freakin’ 25 or whatever. But it’s inevitable.  I don’t like it either, but why do we fight it so hard?… Is it because that’s what we are being taught and sold day in and day out?  Our worth is based on our ageless beauty and trying to keep up with the dewy skin of teenagers – who ironically have NO CLUE they have the amazing porcelain stuff –  for the rest of our lives?  It’s really stupid and non-sensical, but in our brave new world of fast everything, instant media exposure (and over-exposure) and constant voyeurism into the lives of the rich and famous, it’s the rules.

It shouldn’t be the rules.  I always knew this of course, but until you are “faced” (hehe) with it yourself, it might kind of elude you.  I’m much deeper now that my lines are deeper.  I have a greater understanding and true respect for my aging mother when I can clearly see myself in her struggle to remain independent and get around without falling.  It certainly doesn’t matter how she looks ~ she’s beautiful to me, from the inside out.  That’s what I want, and sometimes it seems aging gracefully is almost a lost art.

So in the end, since I’ve stumbled upon all this wisdom of how wonderfully valuable antiques are, why am I cleaning the dirt off? Why don’t I leave it for the antiquing look?… Somehow it doesn’t seem right for a porch to be genuinely scuffed, moldy and marred (unless you deliberately and permanently do some kind of crafty artwork to make it that way) when it was only built several years ago… It’s only good if the house was built in like 1782, even IF it’s been cleaned most years since then and the dirt and grime that looks rustically beautiful is probably from 1972. Or maybe even 1992.  Actually, make that last year.  It’s not fair, but that’s the rules. 

So then, did I do a really thorough job of cleaning every little corner? No, of course not. I want to preserve the integrity of my growing antique… I think I will just tell people that on this former Civil War battleground area, my house was the only one that was here, built in 1798.

Okay. So that probably won’t work. No, definitely.

But I could tell them that I salvaged this incredible railing from an antique house. There you go.  This is going to save me many years of cumulative work. Which is a good thing, seeing that I. am. getting. old.

Seriously ~ trapped in my little brain, I still feel like I’m 20 something, young at heart, exuberant about the future, passionate about life, with maybe just a pinch more of wisdom thrown in.  So, just like the railings, I’ve gotta take care of this shell that carries me 🙂 .

A Short Take on Love…

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SHORTSdownload

“ In these bodies we will live,

In these bodies we will die,

Where you invest your Love,

You invest your life…”
                               Mumford & Sons

I smelled like a sweaty little boy who’s been outdoors running around the neighborhood all day, playing hard.  I don’t mean to sound sexist here, but it seems to me that little boys have a different “playing” chemistry. I know because, even though I only have daughters, I remember my brothers coming inside after a robust day of romping when I was little.  No offence guys, but like, ew.

When I left the house in the relative cool of the morning I had decided to take the vehicle that had the broken A/C as opposed to the air-conditioned stick shift.  I knew there was probably going to be traffic jams, so hating to have my foot on and off the clutch I made a choice. Whoops.  That heat index into the 100s escaped my calculations.  I often seem to be plagued by Murphy’s Law.

As I was driving on I-95 stuck in traffic, my heart was racing in the blistering heat, my little car fan turned up to the max blowing out hot air from the abyss. I questioned if that was really helping, as it pretty much felt like I had the heat on full blast.  But I figured some air moving was probably better than the sense of suffocating.  Now I know what my convection oven does.

My left arm was in the blazing sun from the open window on that side and I could see I was going to get sunburned as I traveled for the next hour, or two or three, who knew? Construction.  Orange cones.  Lots of trucks merging in.  And FRIDAY!

Luck was with me, however, because I had just been to get a bone density scan and these lovely little shorts they had me wear I had decided to keep.  I had said to the technician, “You’re just going to throw these out, right?  Is it ok if I take them?” she agreed they’d definitely be thrown away in that trash basket right in front of me.  I couldn’t see her face from the other room, but she was probably feeling sorry for me and shaking her head, with a “what the?” look.  I pulled the little accordion door open to the waiting area to see several women sitting there waiting, who comically stared up at me having heard my request (it’s in a tiny trailer – everyone hears everything! Who knew the previously empty waiting room was now full since I had finished?).

Don’t ask me why. I’m sure there would have been no use for them at home. You know, the kind made out of that crunchy blue disposable fabric used in Medical facilities? We women are well acquainted with them from our many humiliating GYN appointments.  So now, faced with a one arm farmer’s tan and more age/ sun spots which I religiously try to avoid adding since I have enough already, with some quick thinking I did what any self-respecting middle-aged woman would do… I put the useless pair of shorts on my arm…

I’m sure I looked like a loser to everyone who was driving around me.  I don’t know which was worse for my ego – moving along or sitting still.  If we got going at a good clip my wild unkempt hair and big sleeve were billowing out the open window in 90- something degree heat.  If we were going slow or hardly at all they could see my actual face (I tried to look all casual and cool… “Like really, I love the heat~  I’m doing this by choice!”)   Every lane I struggled to move over into of course became the slowest lane. You know. (Where is that Murphy dude… If I ever find him, I’ll…!)

I pondered as I rolled along, on the overwhelm I had been feeling – of all the things I needed and wanted to get done, and I remembered this little episode was just that.  Very little.  So many are hurting – deeply.  So many are truly suffering, and there is a lot of pain, sickness and tragic loss, not to mention those in the world who are literally just trying to survive.

I was, just barely, above the gale force winds coming in my window (ok so I’m exaggerating) listening to a Mumford & Sons CD to wile away the hours and these lyrics were sung.

“ In these bodies we will live,

in these bodies we will die,

where you invest your Love,

you invest your life…”

Wow.  I think I always kind of thought of it the other way – where you invest your life you invest your love.  But really what we’re investing – or should be – is our love.  That should come first.  That should be our motivating factor for everything we do.

I then remembered this amazing song by Sara Groves, “Without Love I am Nothing”.  It is a wonderful inspiration, as well as a jolting wake up call… If you are feeling a little frustrated with life and the overwhelm I invite you to take a listen to this song and be reminded of what’s really important.  We may not have everything the way we want in life, look perfect, and be doing it all right, but it’s our motivation that counts the most.  Listen to this as you read the rest…

Sara Groves – Without Love – YouTube

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WJoqSQG0D60

‎Love.  Love for people~  love for my family, friends, and those I try to help…love for the God I serve and want to follow in His ways the best I can.  And simply the love for life. We have so much!  And I know it.  What is your motivating factor?

I walked into the house and plopped myself down on the cool couch and dumped my scattered armful of disheveled items down next to me, including my makeshift sleeve pants….  Those goofy little things had really turned into a shelter and a blessing to me.

Relieved and grateful, I said with a true recognition of my riches, and the love in my life: “Lord, thank you for keeping me safe on that treacherous Murphy’s road.”

My Father’s Legacy…

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A Father’s Day tribute, in honor and memory of my Dad who went ahead of us to heaven way too soon…it’s been , unbelievably, 25 years already 
dad on car
I will never forget the selfless way my Father provided and cared for our family… His thoughtfulness and kindness were seen more than we had even known, when at his funeral so many folks came forward to tell of something he had given them – a warm coat to a homeless man, a cool drink to a summer traffic cop, a kind word and hand on the shoulder to even strangers – things we didn’t know! He didn’t think living the golden rule needed to be broadcast. He just did it .

A pot of his homemade baked beans showed up at every grieving family’s home after the funeral. We weren’t a wealthy family in monetary means, but as children there was never a time he didn’t make sure we had an offering for any collection plate.

Any school kid or scout that ever came to our door selling something (anything!) never left disappointed- he ALWAYS bought it. On our weekly “Sunday drives” it was made fun by NECCO wafers all around to the 5 kids , Mom and Grandma all packed in the station wagon. If you were lucky enough to trick or treat at the Hennessey house you got the full size big candy bar – not because he could necessarily afford to give those – he was just that generous.

I particularly fondly remember a time when I was probably 9 or 10; it was a hot summer day and since we lived near the beach a bathing suit was everyday wear. I kind of knew in my limited childish way that we didn’t have a lot of money, and my bathing suit from last year was faded and worn. But I didn’t even ask – he knew it (with a bunch of kids its always something!) and this day, right then, he insisted on taking me to the big department store and told me to pick any one I wanted – any!

To this day I can’t tell you how special I felt to have that time with Daddy where he picked me out and made a fuss over something that may be thought of as insignificant…yet I remember the store , the clerk lady who helped me, and I can almost smell the “new fabric” scent of that BEAUTIFUL suit, in yellow with tiny dots and little skirt . It was my favorite.

We didn’t get every new fad that came around the block like Beatle boots or lots of troll dolls – these were luxuries reserved for birthdays or Christmas – and I actually thank God for that. It taught me to value what I had and wait for good things. My father’ s kind heart and compassionate ways are a legacy I value greatly – he taught by his life. I miss him dearly and look forward to all being reunited.

My Amazing Mother…

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I just want to honor my wonderful parents.  I am so very grateful for the amazing family that God had me planted in; I am truly blessed and I never want to forget that… or them.

I was born as a baby-boomer in the 50’s, a time of blissful childhoods with unlocked doors, free to roam the streets safely even after dark, walking to school and creating neighborhood “shows” with kids of all ages, racing through the streets on bicycles in summer and skating on the river in winter.

We often didn’t have all the latest “stuff” and we were by no means rich by today’s standards. But my folks gave us so much more – the gift of an incredible, loving home that allowed for the balance of creative freedom and inspirational help with chores and responsibility – things that taught valuable life lessons I have never forgotten.

So here’s an open letter to my Mom, who lives 3 states away, but is always in my heart. ❤

Mom, photoTo My Dear, dear Mommy…

I wish you the best of Mother’s Days as I think of you and celebrate you!! Wish I could be with you. I just want to honor you and say how much I so appreciate all that you have sacrificed through the years for our family.

I know that it wasn’t always easy to deal with us 5 “wild Indians” as Daddy used to call us, ha! You did a good job (if I do say so myself).

I know you would have liked to be home more and hung out with us on the beach like many of the other mothers got to do, but you sacrificed, working another full time job outside the home when we were in school, so that we would have the things that we needed — how wonderful is that! Did I ever really thank you for that sacrifice? Did I even realize it was a sacrifice at the time? Probably not.

In spite of that cutting into your time, you somehow always took care of us with clean fingernails and curls in our hair, always managed to have a good dinner on the table, AND stayed up late working on our school projects to boot. Through the years with your increasingly amazing seamstress skills, you sewed us incredible clothes (especially making sure we had something new for any special event), making coats in the winter, and play clothes for camp.

You created my custom wedding gown, from several patterns, and created in me (with much lesser skills!) the bent for understanding how to mend, alter, fix and otherwise make something out of cheesy Goodwill finds into a reasonably attractive outfit costing almost nothing. And looking back I have no idea how you even made adorable doll clothes (in your spare time!!)…. no patterns, just out of your head!

The house was clean and neat, our clothes were washed and ironed and folded, you grew a fresh garden of vegetables, and had a beautiful flower bed in the yard for us all to enjoy! It seems you rarely were rewarded, you didn’t get great accolades, you just did your job with love and care, and no complaining.

You literally never asked for anything. I remember Dad saying he had to buy you underwear at Christmas, because you would never shop to buy anything for yourself. There were 5 kids, and there was always some school, church or extra-curricular event that we needed something for. We always came first.

You were a Cub Scout leader come to think of it (although I obviously never got to those meetings, ha!)… my brothers’ troops needed someone. So there you were. You took them camping like a good Boy Scout, and I bet they never had such good food and were taken better care of. Let’s just say you weren’t military minded; your troop was pampered. 🙂

I can barely count the sacrificial times you stayed up late – when you already had SO much to do of your own – to type on our little metal typewriter, all 5 of us kid’s school reports as we grew; because you always wanted it to look excellent and hand writing it just wasn’t quite up to par. You were an amazing artist and often helped us to craft incredible projects that were the envy of all our friends at school! (truly they were.)

And forget Halloween time — the Hennessey kids had the best costumes, courtesy of your flare for the almost forgotten art of actually hand-sewing/ designing, cutting, gluing, painting the most amazing inventive creations in the our small town’s parade! How did you do that?? It seems that seldom did a year pass when at least one Hennessey didn’t win a prize for the best costume. I think we grew to just kind of expect that.

But I now know what went into that dedicated, time-intensive and talented feat with my grown-up mind, and wow, did I take that way too lightly to have such a gift in my life.

You held out a strong faith, and I will never, ever forget, nor take for granted, how you tucked us into bed at night, reading to us  (giving me a life long love of reading by the way) with sincere prayer and hugs that squeezed out the day’s troubles.

You were always quietly doing for others, even with the limited amount of home time you had. You were a committed and preciously devoted weekly beam of sunshine in nursing homes — on your only day off (!) — and you continued that even after retirement and you were almost as old as most of the residents! Just because you wanted to; you truly cared.

Mom Hennessey, 90. jpg

Many may not have noticed your perseverance, sacrifices, and faithfulness; but I know God did, and your reward awaits you!

Quite a woman… and so much more – so THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, at this time of celebrating and remembering… I remember you. ♥♥♥ xoxo

Love you so much, Mom!

Mom and me