I have been writing for some time. Oh, it takes different forms, sometimes a poem, a journal entry, a short story or just ramblings. I have never thought of myself as a writer though. I have never been published, therefore, I am not a writer. Or so I thought.
Yesterday in the midst of a huge snow storm (well, for the south) our heat stopped working. When the technician arrived, because I am a preferred customer, which I think has nothing to do with the fact that I pay a premium every month but because of how friendly I am, yeah, right. Anyway, as I was paying him we were chatting. He asked what I did for a living. I usually just say that I am a stay at home mom. But yesterday, before I even thought about it, out popped, "I'm a writer." I quickly looked around to see if one of my family members would "out" me, but luckily no one was around! I thought about that moment all day. "I am a writer."
This did not occur just yesterday. I did not wake up and decide I am going to be a writer. This has been a long process. I don't really remember writing much as a youth. Yes, I tried to keep a diary when I was young, but I grew tired myself of reading my daily "doings". It wasn't until I became a Whole Language teacher that I really began to give myself permission to write. I believed strongly in modeling what I wanted my students to do. So, during silent reading, I read my current novel. I would laugh out loud when appropriate, and I would cry when appropriate. Modeling what reading looked and felt like for my students. This was natural and easy for me. So, during Writer's Workshop, I would write. I told my kids they just needed to write. If they couldn't think of a story, just write anything. Many of my journals were filled with nonsense. But occasionally, a story would appear. I never felt shame in sharing my "writing" with my students, again I was modeling that a writer simply means to write. But I must admit and apologize to all my students. I never learned that lesson. I did not hear myself until much later in life.
My husband is a writer. He is an excellent writer. He does not really like commercial greeting cards. He prefers to make his own. Now by this, I do not mean the current fad of "Stamping", or ribbons. He would write his feelings. Instead of looking for a card that said what he wanted to say, he would simply write it himself. (I strongly sense that his frugality had a part in this as well....) Of course, he wanted such cards in return. This was never said out loud. I just sensed this, and the joy and exuberance he showed when he received one confirmed this. So I began writing for my husband. He loved my writing and was always very complimentary. But you know, he was my husband. He is supposed to be complimentary.
Later on I started getting into scrapbooking and even became a consultant with Creative Memories. Again writing came up. A huge part of keeping a scrap book is not just the photos, but the stories to go along with the photos. So I taught this to all my customers. I was in essence holding Writing Workshops again. And as before, I must model this behavior if I expected my "students" to follow.
When we moved to North Carolina, my eyes were opened to many social issues that I hadn't truly "seen" before. The biggest one were the issues facing the LGBT community (lesbian/gay/bisexual/transgender). Most of my close friends in our church were homosexuals. I became educated on the discriminations that occured on a daily basis for them. And it stirred great emotion in me. I started writing about these injustices in the form of poetry.
One day I decided I wanted to learn to knit. So I bought a book, some yarn and needles, and started knitting. I was having trouble understanding the book, so I googled knitting and found a video tutorial by Heather. I followed a link on the video and found Heather's blog. I had never heard of blogs at that time. I started reading her blog and linking to other blogs she had listed and soon I was hooked. I decided I could do this and it would be a great record of my growth as a knitter. What happened was that I was writing every day, and was beginning to write of life and knitting. I began to get a following on my blog and received many compliments. These were people who didn't even know me. They had no reason to comment, much less compliment.
For my husband's fortieth birthday, he asked for a compilation of all my writings. I was embarrassed by this. I still did not see myself as a writer and this seemed too much like a "book". I was not worthy of that!! But I did it for him.
I went to a local book store and listened to several authors talk about their craft. Inevitably the question is asked about how they write. This is by far the most interesting question to me. I was blown away by the different answers. But the common thread was they just write. They did not have big offices they went to, many of them wrote in the pjs at the kitchen table. Much like me.
At times over the last three years, stories would start in my head and I couldn't think of much else until I wrote them down. Sometimes they were complete stories, but mostly they were just beginnings. I even started a novel. It consumed me. I could actually hear the main character's voice. But then it died away.
I started this blog because I felt such a pressure to write and no outlet. Plus I will admit, I like the feedback. My friend Joy taught me it is okay to just come out and admit it, I like praise! Thanks, Joy! So I have been writing here my thoughts, my stories and I have gotten amazing feedback. My younger brother, Kade wrote, "I had no idea of your writing skills. VERY impressed!!!" He is a man of few words, which makes these words priceless to me. The other day as we were passing kids off at carpool, my friend Debbie called out, "I didn't know you were an author." Those words resounded with me for days. An author.
Jack gave me the book, What the Dog Saw by Malcolm Gladwell. It is a book of essays. Jack and I love to read books out loud together. But it is hard to do with our schedules. So Jack had been looking for a book for us and found this and the book Outliers by Gladwell as well. They are perfect in that they are essays and we can let several days or weeks pass between readings and it doesn't matter. Plus these articles give us so much to discuss beside the regular mundane issues. I highly recommend this for couples! Okay, back to me! :-)
So the other night Jack read the essay, "Late Bloomers" "Why do we equate genius with precocity?" This essay is fascinating on many levels, but I want to talk about what struck me. The essay begins by telling the story of Ben Fountain. After only three years as a lawyer, he decides to quit his job and write full time. In the first year he published two stories. But then it would be eighteen years until he published his best seller. Eighteen years he worked at his craft. For every story he published, he had thirty rejections. Wow, that is a lot of writing. So, it dawned on me. I have not submitted even one story yet. I have not even written thirty stories yet. Yet.
You have just read my journey. This is what has brought me to this day. It is time to live into my calling. Or dare I say destiny? Gosh this sounds serious. I have made a decision which I wish to make public.
I am a writer.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
A Defining Moment
Based on a true story
As her parents' car pulled into her driveway, she was filled with equal parts fear and joy. When her husband burst out the front door the joy filled her. She was home. It was an incredible feeling to be back in his arms. But as he reached in the car to pull out the carseat with their son, the fear returned.
Amy had just spent a week at her parents' house convalescing after getting out of the hospital with an uterine infection. The last month had been a whirlwind. She had a very hard and scary delivery. Although there was some fear if the baby would live, he pulled through with only jaundice to remain a concern. Then a week later Amy got sick and had to go back in the hospital. All this time, John was trying to attend seminars for his Ph.D. By the time Amy got home from the hospital, they were both exhausted and spent. Amy's mom came for a visit and immediately saw that John needed some time to catch up in his studies and Amy needed rest and help with caring for the baby. She promptly packed them all up and drove Amy and the baby home with her. It had been a wonderful week of pampering for Amy. Her father worked next door so he was able to be around and check on her regularly. Sam, the baby, slept in her parents' room and her mom attended his needs in the night. Amy quickly regained her strength.
Now, as they stood in the driveway, Amy knew her mom had to leave and couldn't stay. She was scared. What if she couldn't do this on her own? As if sensing the terror within Amy, John slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. He whispered in her ear, "We are going to be fine. You are not alone." In that moment she was able to let go of the fear and say goodbye to her mom.
That evening after dinner, John had to return to the library to finish studying for a huge seminar the next morning. Sam became fussy and seemed uncomfortable. Amy tried to feed him but he wouldn't nurse. He seemed to have a stuffy nose and trouble breathing. She called her girlfriend and asked what to do. The girlfriend talked Amy through how to take a baby's temperature. Sam had a fever of 100. Her girlfriend reassured her that that was okay, but to check with the doctor in the morning. Amy rocked and held Sam until he fell asleep.
The next morning after a fitful night for Sam and Amy, she called the doctor's office and was informed she couldn't be seen until 10:30 that morning. In some ways that reassured her that everything was okay. Babies get colds and there was no reason to worry. John didn't want Amy to go alone to the doctor's office, but he couldn't miss another seminar. She reassured him that it was okay, probably just a cold and drove away.
She entered the brightly decorated pediatrician's office loaded down with the diaper bag of a new mother. As they sat waiting, she noticed a long window looking into the office area. She saw Dr. Brown and they smiled at each other. Then Dr. Brown seemed to get upset and became very busy behind the glass. People started rushing around as if an emergency had occured. Amy wondered what that was about as they called Sam's name.
The nurse was chatty as she ushered Amy and Sam into the exam room and took his vitals. She asked the normal questions of why they were here and what concerns did Amy have. Shortly the doctor came through the door all smiles. She asked several questions as she looked over Sam. She took off his diaper and asked if Amy had noticed a discharge before. Amy said no. Then timidly, Amy asked, "I feel stupid asking this, but I feel like Sam is more lethargic today. Is that possible?" "Yes," the doctor said, "he has a fever and just like adults he becomes lethargic when he is ill." Dr. Brown then excused herself to go check something and left leaving the door cracked open.
Amy redressed Sam, swaddled him, and held him close. As she walked around the tiny exam room, she could faintly hear the doctor. "Yes, you need to meet your wife at the hospital. She will go straight up and I need you to go check them in." Amy murmured to Sam, "Oh, poor mom and child, they are having to go the hospital. How awful! I hope it is not serious." And Amy continued walking and swaying to soothe Sam.
Dr. Brown returned with a lady she introduced as Maggie, her office manager. She informed Amy that Maggie was going to walk her and Sam underground to the hospital. "Amy, Sam is very sick. He is going into shock and we need to get him attended to right away." Amy seemed to take this information in stride. She loaded up her diaper bag, handed it to Maggie and off they went.
On the way, Maggie chatted and cooed at Sam. Amy got no sense of urgency and still did not realize what was ahead. They entered the elevator and went to the sixth floor, the pediatric floor. When the elevator opened, Amy's life changed forever. There awaiting their arrival were four nurses and a doctor. They immediately took Sam out of Amy's arms and rushed him into a room. Amy crumbled. It was in that instant that she knew. She had felt it in the pit of her stomach, in the bottom of her heart. Her baby was ill. Until that moment, she hadn't been able to give voice to that truth. Amy suddenly realized there were arms wrapped around her as she sat on the floor. Maggie and another lady were holding her. The hospital had arranged for a chaplain to be there for Amy. The fear became even more extreme. Eventually they got her to a chair and she began mumbling that she needed to call John. Maggie said the doctor had already called him and he was downstairs. It then dawned on Amy that the conversation she overheard was about her and Sam. The tears began streaming down her cheeks.
Suddenly behind the doors she heard the shrieks of her baby boy. It felt as if someone had ripped her heart out. She started for the door but Maggie and the chaplain restrained her saying she had to let them do their jobs. Amy began wailing that she needed to see her son. The elevator opened and John rushed out. Amy ran to him and they clung to each other as they watched the door. John demanded more information. And finally the chaplain went into the treatment room to get a nurse. The nurse came and explained what they were doing. She went over the list of tests and treatments they were doing on Sam. But Amy's mind couldn't comprehend a word she said. Because her heart was inside that room. All she knew was that she needed her baby in her arms immediately. She needed to protect her baby from whatever was wrong. But she couldn't. She had to sit outside the door and wait.
It seemed like days before the door opened and the nurse came out holding Sam. He was swaddled again with tubes coming out all over his body. She gently laid him in Amy's outstretched arms. Amy brought him to her heart and kissed the tears away from his cheeks. Amy began to realize that they had been ushered into a room with a crib and rocker. She continued to grasp her son not wanting to let go. Within the hour Dr. Brown came into the room to tell Amy and John what was going on.
"Sam has an infection. In babies, we often don't know where the infection begins only where it is at the time we find it. Infections travel quickly through babies' systems and are very dangerous. We did several tests and discovered Sam has an urinary tract infection. This is very uncommon in babies, and what makes it more uncommon is Sam being male. We are giving him IV antibiotics and fluids. He was dehydrated when you came in. He was in the beginning stages of shock. His system was getting ready to shut down. Amy, I know your milk has been drying up since you were in the hospital, but I need you to try to get it back. The nurses will be bringing you tubs of juice, water, whatever fluids you can drink. I need you to drink a lot. Your milk has what this little guy needs right now. Okay?"
Amy numbly nodded her head. She struggled to grasp all that the doctor was saying. Sam almost died today. This mantra played over and over in her head.
"Because Sam is so small and young, he will have to stay in the hospital for a ten day treatment with antibiotics," Dr. Brown continued. "You need to take care of each other. You must get sleep. We can't have either of you getting sick now."
John asked several more questions as the mantra got louder in Amy's head. Then they shook Dr. Brown's hand and she left. The rest of that day and the next were a blur for Amy. She drank, slept, nursed, held, rocked and cried. She and John tried to take turns at the hospital, but with her needing to nurse, Amy needed to be there most of the time. Sam's fever seemed to rise instead of fall. There was quite a bit of concern over this. On the second or third night, Amy was in the room alone with Sam. She had nursed him but he still seemed to be hungry, so she buzzed the nurse and got a bottle of formula. Sam sucked it down with intensity. Afterwards he was still fussy and still making the mewling sounds and motions of a hungry baby. Amy tried the pacifier but to no avail. Finally she called the nurse back and they decided to try a bottle of water. Immediately Sam sucked that down, and was still fussy. Amy tried to change positions in her arms when Sam's little hand fell out of the blanket with the IV line. When she looked down she noticed that his hand was swollen to two times the size. She quickly called out to the nurse who came running. The IV needle had slipped and fluid was filling Sam's hand. He was not hungry, he was in pain. The nurse quickly called for help and they went about fixing it. But Amy couldn't handle it. She left the room and found a corner to sit and sob. A different nurse found her there and sat down on the floor with her and held her as she cried out her sorrow and fear.
Slowly she made her way back into Sam's room. There in the lamplight sat the little Canadian nurse holding Sam tightly to her chest while tears slipped down her cheeks. She looked up as Amy came in the room and said, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Amy rushed to her side and hugged her while they both cried.
It would take years for Amy to return to this time in her life. Sam had several other "episodes" with illness, and so did Amy. But the defining moment for Amy was the day the nurses and doctor took Sam out of her arms and away from her. In that moment she realized she could no longer protect her son from everything in this world. Now Sam is going out into the world on his own. And just like that long ago day, he takes Amy's heart with him.
As her parents' car pulled into her driveway, she was filled with equal parts fear and joy. When her husband burst out the front door the joy filled her. She was home. It was an incredible feeling to be back in his arms. But as he reached in the car to pull out the carseat with their son, the fear returned.
Amy had just spent a week at her parents' house convalescing after getting out of the hospital with an uterine infection. The last month had been a whirlwind. She had a very hard and scary delivery. Although there was some fear if the baby would live, he pulled through with only jaundice to remain a concern. Then a week later Amy got sick and had to go back in the hospital. All this time, John was trying to attend seminars for his Ph.D. By the time Amy got home from the hospital, they were both exhausted and spent. Amy's mom came for a visit and immediately saw that John needed some time to catch up in his studies and Amy needed rest and help with caring for the baby. She promptly packed them all up and drove Amy and the baby home with her. It had been a wonderful week of pampering for Amy. Her father worked next door so he was able to be around and check on her regularly. Sam, the baby, slept in her parents' room and her mom attended his needs in the night. Amy quickly regained her strength.
Now, as they stood in the driveway, Amy knew her mom had to leave and couldn't stay. She was scared. What if she couldn't do this on her own? As if sensing the terror within Amy, John slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. He whispered in her ear, "We are going to be fine. You are not alone." In that moment she was able to let go of the fear and say goodbye to her mom.
That evening after dinner, John had to return to the library to finish studying for a huge seminar the next morning. Sam became fussy and seemed uncomfortable. Amy tried to feed him but he wouldn't nurse. He seemed to have a stuffy nose and trouble breathing. She called her girlfriend and asked what to do. The girlfriend talked Amy through how to take a baby's temperature. Sam had a fever of 100. Her girlfriend reassured her that that was okay, but to check with the doctor in the morning. Amy rocked and held Sam until he fell asleep.
The next morning after a fitful night for Sam and Amy, she called the doctor's office and was informed she couldn't be seen until 10:30 that morning. In some ways that reassured her that everything was okay. Babies get colds and there was no reason to worry. John didn't want Amy to go alone to the doctor's office, but he couldn't miss another seminar. She reassured him that it was okay, probably just a cold and drove away.
She entered the brightly decorated pediatrician's office loaded down with the diaper bag of a new mother. As they sat waiting, she noticed a long window looking into the office area. She saw Dr. Brown and they smiled at each other. Then Dr. Brown seemed to get upset and became very busy behind the glass. People started rushing around as if an emergency had occured. Amy wondered what that was about as they called Sam's name.
The nurse was chatty as she ushered Amy and Sam into the exam room and took his vitals. She asked the normal questions of why they were here and what concerns did Amy have. Shortly the doctor came through the door all smiles. She asked several questions as she looked over Sam. She took off his diaper and asked if Amy had noticed a discharge before. Amy said no. Then timidly, Amy asked, "I feel stupid asking this, but I feel like Sam is more lethargic today. Is that possible?" "Yes," the doctor said, "he has a fever and just like adults he becomes lethargic when he is ill." Dr. Brown then excused herself to go check something and left leaving the door cracked open.
Amy redressed Sam, swaddled him, and held him close. As she walked around the tiny exam room, she could faintly hear the doctor. "Yes, you need to meet your wife at the hospital. She will go straight up and I need you to go check them in." Amy murmured to Sam, "Oh, poor mom and child, they are having to go the hospital. How awful! I hope it is not serious." And Amy continued walking and swaying to soothe Sam.
Dr. Brown returned with a lady she introduced as Maggie, her office manager. She informed Amy that Maggie was going to walk her and Sam underground to the hospital. "Amy, Sam is very sick. He is going into shock and we need to get him attended to right away." Amy seemed to take this information in stride. She loaded up her diaper bag, handed it to Maggie and off they went.
On the way, Maggie chatted and cooed at Sam. Amy got no sense of urgency and still did not realize what was ahead. They entered the elevator and went to the sixth floor, the pediatric floor. When the elevator opened, Amy's life changed forever. There awaiting their arrival were four nurses and a doctor. They immediately took Sam out of Amy's arms and rushed him into a room. Amy crumbled. It was in that instant that she knew. She had felt it in the pit of her stomach, in the bottom of her heart. Her baby was ill. Until that moment, she hadn't been able to give voice to that truth. Amy suddenly realized there were arms wrapped around her as she sat on the floor. Maggie and another lady were holding her. The hospital had arranged for a chaplain to be there for Amy. The fear became even more extreme. Eventually they got her to a chair and she began mumbling that she needed to call John. Maggie said the doctor had already called him and he was downstairs. It then dawned on Amy that the conversation she overheard was about her and Sam. The tears began streaming down her cheeks.
Suddenly behind the doors she heard the shrieks of her baby boy. It felt as if someone had ripped her heart out. She started for the door but Maggie and the chaplain restrained her saying she had to let them do their jobs. Amy began wailing that she needed to see her son. The elevator opened and John rushed out. Amy ran to him and they clung to each other as they watched the door. John demanded more information. And finally the chaplain went into the treatment room to get a nurse. The nurse came and explained what they were doing. She went over the list of tests and treatments they were doing on Sam. But Amy's mind couldn't comprehend a word she said. Because her heart was inside that room. All she knew was that she needed her baby in her arms immediately. She needed to protect her baby from whatever was wrong. But she couldn't. She had to sit outside the door and wait.
It seemed like days before the door opened and the nurse came out holding Sam. He was swaddled again with tubes coming out all over his body. She gently laid him in Amy's outstretched arms. Amy brought him to her heart and kissed the tears away from his cheeks. Amy began to realize that they had been ushered into a room with a crib and rocker. She continued to grasp her son not wanting to let go. Within the hour Dr. Brown came into the room to tell Amy and John what was going on.
"Sam has an infection. In babies, we often don't know where the infection begins only where it is at the time we find it. Infections travel quickly through babies' systems and are very dangerous. We did several tests and discovered Sam has an urinary tract infection. This is very uncommon in babies, and what makes it more uncommon is Sam being male. We are giving him IV antibiotics and fluids. He was dehydrated when you came in. He was in the beginning stages of shock. His system was getting ready to shut down. Amy, I know your milk has been drying up since you were in the hospital, but I need you to try to get it back. The nurses will be bringing you tubs of juice, water, whatever fluids you can drink. I need you to drink a lot. Your milk has what this little guy needs right now. Okay?"
Amy numbly nodded her head. She struggled to grasp all that the doctor was saying. Sam almost died today. This mantra played over and over in her head.
"Because Sam is so small and young, he will have to stay in the hospital for a ten day treatment with antibiotics," Dr. Brown continued. "You need to take care of each other. You must get sleep. We can't have either of you getting sick now."
John asked several more questions as the mantra got louder in Amy's head. Then they shook Dr. Brown's hand and she left. The rest of that day and the next were a blur for Amy. She drank, slept, nursed, held, rocked and cried. She and John tried to take turns at the hospital, but with her needing to nurse, Amy needed to be there most of the time. Sam's fever seemed to rise instead of fall. There was quite a bit of concern over this. On the second or third night, Amy was in the room alone with Sam. She had nursed him but he still seemed to be hungry, so she buzzed the nurse and got a bottle of formula. Sam sucked it down with intensity. Afterwards he was still fussy and still making the mewling sounds and motions of a hungry baby. Amy tried the pacifier but to no avail. Finally she called the nurse back and they decided to try a bottle of water. Immediately Sam sucked that down, and was still fussy. Amy tried to change positions in her arms when Sam's little hand fell out of the blanket with the IV line. When she looked down she noticed that his hand was swollen to two times the size. She quickly called out to the nurse who came running. The IV needle had slipped and fluid was filling Sam's hand. He was not hungry, he was in pain. The nurse quickly called for help and they went about fixing it. But Amy couldn't handle it. She left the room and found a corner to sit and sob. A different nurse found her there and sat down on the floor with her and held her as she cried out her sorrow and fear.
Slowly she made her way back into Sam's room. There in the lamplight sat the little Canadian nurse holding Sam tightly to her chest while tears slipped down her cheeks. She looked up as Amy came in the room and said, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Amy rushed to her side and hugged her while they both cried.
It would take years for Amy to return to this time in her life. Sam had several other "episodes" with illness, and so did Amy. But the defining moment for Amy was the day the nurses and doctor took Sam out of her arms and away from her. In that moment she realized she could no longer protect her son from everything in this world. Now Sam is going out into the world on his own. And just like that long ago day, he takes Amy's heart with him.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Frustration
I am frustrated in many areas of my life today. The first and foremost is with my health. I seemed to be going along really well. I was feeling great, even feeling pretty strong. Then *BLAM* I was knocked on my back and I am still there. I have a great dr. and I know he will help me get this figured out but still....it takes a toll on me emotionally as well as physically. I quickly go back to the place of "I can't" instead of "I can". Dwelling on my limitations doesn't help anyone or anything, yet that is what I start to do. I see the many ways I let my family down.
I am frustrated with my knitting. I have two projects going right now that need to be done soon. Both projects are causing me great frustration. I have had to frog both numerous times. My sweater has just baffled me. I cannot seem to get it right. I am ready to just drop it, yet the yarn is so beautiful, the pattern is so neat. I have to go on, I must conquer this. The other project has such meaning, that I can't let it go either.
Frustation is a part of all of our lives. We encounter it in large and small ways. How do we deal with it? Do we let it get us down and let it cause us to question ourselves? Or do we name it and move through it?
I hope today I can begin to move through these frustrations and others. What frustrates you today? How will you deal with it?
I am frustrated with my knitting. I have two projects going right now that need to be done soon. Both projects are causing me great frustration. I have had to frog both numerous times. My sweater has just baffled me. I cannot seem to get it right. I am ready to just drop it, yet the yarn is so beautiful, the pattern is so neat. I have to go on, I must conquer this. The other project has such meaning, that I can't let it go either.
Frustation is a part of all of our lives. We encounter it in large and small ways. How do we deal with it? Do we let it get us down and let it cause us to question ourselves? Or do we name it and move through it?
I hope today I can begin to move through these frustrations and others. What frustrates you today? How will you deal with it?
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Equality for ALL
I was born white. I was born female. I was born American. I was born heterosexual. According to society today, I have hit the jackpot....well, except for the female part...but I'll leave that for another post. I am not sure I can even put into words how arbitrary that feels. I didn't ask to be born any of these things. I had no power in them...it was how the genes mixed and grew and yes, I believe that God had a hand in the process as well. But I did not. Neither did you. So, how can I get mad or judge others who were born different?
I don't believe that people whose skin color is different than mine are any less valuable, less important, or less worthy of equality. Do you? They are people, made the same way you and I were.
I don't believe that people who were born male are any less valuable, less important, or less worthy of equality. Do you? They are people, made the same way you and I were.
I don't believe that people who were born in other countries are any less valuable, less important, or less worthy of equality. Do you? They are people, made the same way you and I were.
I don't believe that people who were born homosexual are any less valuable, less important, or less worthy of equality. Do you? They are people, made the same way you and I were.
Of all the things we judge others for; their clothes, their shoes, their hair, their class status, their politics, their religion, I don't understand how we can judge someone for the way they were born.
How can we judge someone on something that they had no choice in? And I guess this is where my argument fails for many. We as a society, have not accepted the fact that homosexuality is not a behavior but a sexuality you are born with. First of all, why in the world would someone choose to be persecuted and hated? Why would they choose to be ostracized from society and their families? This is not rational. Why? BECAUSE THEY DO NOT CHOOSE. THEY CANNOT HELP WHO THEY LOVE ANY MORE THAN YOU CAN.
Because much of society believes that homosexuality is a choice, the church has searched scripture to find the ultimate yardstick by which to judge others. Not unlike in the the 50's and 60's when the church argued against the equal rights of blacks. So now we have not only the idea of choice, but GOD. There is nothing that will get people stirred up like God and the Bible.
I am not a religious scholar and have never claimed to be one. I am however married to one. He is a well educated man. He was once very, very conservative and has since opened his mind to see all that God is. And so, I am going to direct you to his words on the subject of the Bible and homosexuality, for all those who are interested.
My argument for the equality of gays and lesbians and for gay marriage is not a religious one. But I knew that for many reading this post it is, so I wanted to address that side of the issue. For me it really has nothing to do with religion, but with people. How can we deny anyone in our country of their basic rights? I just don't understand this. I just don't see how all these Christian friends of mine cannot see the eyes, faces, hearts of these special people and deny them their rights.
My friends Allison and Lou are so good to me and my family. They come over and help me fix plumbing problems. They help me fix up my kitchen, they help me move old freezers into my shed, they make me laugh. They are very good people. They are lesbians. Lou came to America from England. Now, because Allison and Lou cannot get married legally, Lou may not be able to stay in this country. Allison has worked all her adult life and has paid her taxes like every other citizen. She attends church and pays her pledge and even serves on boards there. She volunteers in the community. She is not unlike many of you reading this post. But she loves women, in particular, Lou. She loves Lou and Lou loves her and they have been in a committed relationship for over 5 years now. They live every day knowing that when this student visa runs out, Lou may have to leave. All because of the way Allison and Lou were born. How would you like it if because you were born a brunette you could not marry a blond? How would you feel if the government told you who could marry, who you could love?
These are real people's lives we are talking about. Not perverts, not murderers, but law-abiding, loving, caring people. We must make a stand. We must not continue to allow our society to discriminate against homosexuals. We must fight for the equality of ALL people.
I don't believe that people whose skin color is different than mine are any less valuable, less important, or less worthy of equality. Do you? They are people, made the same way you and I were.
I don't believe that people who were born male are any less valuable, less important, or less worthy of equality. Do you? They are people, made the same way you and I were.
I don't believe that people who were born in other countries are any less valuable, less important, or less worthy of equality. Do you? They are people, made the same way you and I were.
I don't believe that people who were born homosexual are any less valuable, less important, or less worthy of equality. Do you? They are people, made the same way you and I were.
Of all the things we judge others for; their clothes, their shoes, their hair, their class status, their politics, their religion, I don't understand how we can judge someone for the way they were born.
How can we judge someone on something that they had no choice in? And I guess this is where my argument fails for many. We as a society, have not accepted the fact that homosexuality is not a behavior but a sexuality you are born with. First of all, why in the world would someone choose to be persecuted and hated? Why would they choose to be ostracized from society and their families? This is not rational. Why? BECAUSE THEY DO NOT CHOOSE. THEY CANNOT HELP WHO THEY LOVE ANY MORE THAN YOU CAN.
Because much of society believes that homosexuality is a choice, the church has searched scripture to find the ultimate yardstick by which to judge others. Not unlike in the the 50's and 60's when the church argued against the equal rights of blacks. So now we have not only the idea of choice, but GOD. There is nothing that will get people stirred up like God and the Bible.
I am not a religious scholar and have never claimed to be one. I am however married to one. He is a well educated man. He was once very, very conservative and has since opened his mind to see all that God is. And so, I am going to direct you to his words on the subject of the Bible and homosexuality, for all those who are interested.
My argument for the equality of gays and lesbians and for gay marriage is not a religious one. But I knew that for many reading this post it is, so I wanted to address that side of the issue. For me it really has nothing to do with religion, but with people. How can we deny anyone in our country of their basic rights? I just don't understand this. I just don't see how all these Christian friends of mine cannot see the eyes, faces, hearts of these special people and deny them their rights.
My friends Allison and Lou are so good to me and my family. They come over and help me fix plumbing problems. They help me fix up my kitchen, they help me move old freezers into my shed, they make me laugh. They are very good people. They are lesbians. Lou came to America from England. Now, because Allison and Lou cannot get married legally, Lou may not be able to stay in this country. Allison has worked all her adult life and has paid her taxes like every other citizen. She attends church and pays her pledge and even serves on boards there. She volunteers in the community. She is not unlike many of you reading this post. But she loves women, in particular, Lou. She loves Lou and Lou loves her and they have been in a committed relationship for over 5 years now. They live every day knowing that when this student visa runs out, Lou may have to leave. All because of the way Allison and Lou were born. How would you like it if because you were born a brunette you could not marry a blond? How would you feel if the government told you who could marry, who you could love?
These are real people's lives we are talking about. Not perverts, not murderers, but law-abiding, loving, caring people. We must make a stand. We must not continue to allow our society to discriminate against homosexuals. We must fight for the equality of ALL people.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Teens
What a fascinating, exciting, fun, and scary time in life. You begin to feel the first waves of independence. Getting to go to the mall alone. Driving a car by yourself. Going out with friends without parents. Having a relationship with someone. And the first waves of responsibilities. Your first job. Figuring out what college to attend. Making the grades to get into said college. Having a boy/girlfriend that you must spend time with and think of. Buying a car.
All of these things are exciting. I still remember feeling the emotions of that time. Every emotion was exagerated tenfold. Sometimes I felt so out of control. One minute extreme joy and the next extreme sadness. Such a roller-coaster.
As a mom of teens, I am experiencing this age a bit differently. I am now on the receiving end of these roller-coaster emotions. That is not as much fun and not nearly as exciting. There are times I just shake my head at their forgetfulness, their lack of hearing, their mood swings.
I think the scary part of parenting teens is that you get to start watching them trying on adult size opportunities/problems. They goof up, they make poor choices, and then we panic and think we didn't do a good job raising them. So then most parents start pulling the teens in and restricting their access to these opportunities/problems. I think this is where the tension lies for parents and teens. What we must remember as parents, is that this is EXACTLY what they are supposed to be doing. "Trying on" these situations and it is in the messing up that they actually learn how to be an adult. Come on, do you get it perfect all the time now? Of course not! It is through our mistakes that we learn. Our teens deserve the same grace we give ourselves.
They have heard you. They have learned all the things you have taught them. But they have also heard some other voices, teachers, peers, coaches. So they want to try out different solutions, different thoughts, different ways of doing things, to find what works for them. It doesn't mean you need to hit them over the head even harder and louder with your views and beliefs, you've had the last 13 years for that. Trust them.
I was recently taught this very lesson by my son. In true teenage boy fashion, he has given us some "opportunities". He has tried out many different views and tried out lots of solutions, and we have not always liked his choices, and have had to intervene a couple of times. (you cannot let them hurt themselves or break the law) But last week, my son wrote a story for his Creative Writing class. This story blew me away. It held within its lines all the lessons we have tried to impart to our children. He has been listening! There was even evidence that he listened to his dad's sermons! He has not only been listening, he has adopted some of those core beliefs for his own. It was such a rewarding moment reading that story.
So, parents of teens, know that you have been heard, and it is okay if your kid messes up. I know you fear the worst, dying, being arrested, getting pregnant, getting someone else pregnant, getting AIDS, etc. But you have to make a choice, are you going to parent out of fear? Because not only are our kids listening, they are watching.
All of these things are exciting. I still remember feeling the emotions of that time. Every emotion was exagerated tenfold. Sometimes I felt so out of control. One minute extreme joy and the next extreme sadness. Such a roller-coaster.
As a mom of teens, I am experiencing this age a bit differently. I am now on the receiving end of these roller-coaster emotions. That is not as much fun and not nearly as exciting. There are times I just shake my head at their forgetfulness, their lack of hearing, their mood swings.
I think the scary part of parenting teens is that you get to start watching them trying on adult size opportunities/problems. They goof up, they make poor choices, and then we panic and think we didn't do a good job raising them. So then most parents start pulling the teens in and restricting their access to these opportunities/problems. I think this is where the tension lies for parents and teens. What we must remember as parents, is that this is EXACTLY what they are supposed to be doing. "Trying on" these situations and it is in the messing up that they actually learn how to be an adult. Come on, do you get it perfect all the time now? Of course not! It is through our mistakes that we learn. Our teens deserve the same grace we give ourselves.
They have heard you. They have learned all the things you have taught them. But they have also heard some other voices, teachers, peers, coaches. So they want to try out different solutions, different thoughts, different ways of doing things, to find what works for them. It doesn't mean you need to hit them over the head even harder and louder with your views and beliefs, you've had the last 13 years for that. Trust them.
I was recently taught this very lesson by my son. In true teenage boy fashion, he has given us some "opportunities". He has tried out many different views and tried out lots of solutions, and we have not always liked his choices, and have had to intervene a couple of times. (you cannot let them hurt themselves or break the law) But last week, my son wrote a story for his Creative Writing class. This story blew me away. It held within its lines all the lessons we have tried to impart to our children. He has been listening! There was even evidence that he listened to his dad's sermons! He has not only been listening, he has adopted some of those core beliefs for his own. It was such a rewarding moment reading that story.
So, parents of teens, know that you have been heard, and it is okay if your kid messes up. I know you fear the worst, dying, being arrested, getting pregnant, getting someone else pregnant, getting AIDS, etc. But you have to make a choice, are you going to parent out of fear? Because not only are our kids listening, they are watching.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
The War Within
"Stop! Please just stop!" The screams tear through your throat. "I can't take anymore!"
The screams meet deaf ears because the offender is inside you. Your own body is attacking itself. It is as if your body is reaching inside and squeezing and slashing your gut. The pain is insufferable. You grasp for breath and twist and turn trying to find a position where the pain will ease. But there is no place, there is no respite. Finally you find the bottle of pills and take one. Still your body keeps up its internal war against itself. The cries of help bring your family running to your side. They try to help, yet it is impossible. There is nothing they can do, they are as helpless as you are. Finally it is time for another pill, the pain killer. Slowly you feel your body begin to fall under the pill's spell. It releases its hold and you can breathe again. You slip into unconsciousness and blissful sleep. It feels as if you have just closed your eyes when the war begins once more. This time your body is fighting so hard it is forcing everything to evacuate. You vomit over and over trying to expell whatever is angering your body. But there is no relief. You try another pain killer and the big gun - Xanax. And slowly your body submits to the drugs. You once more slip into unconsciousness.
You wake after many hours of sleep, yet you don't really wake. That won't come for several days. You will be weak, sleepy and woozy for at least three to four days afterwards.
This is a Crohn's attack. Different people experience different pain, different drugs, etc. But the common thing is how much Crohn's affects your life. It is a nasty disease which can be devastating for some. Many people lose their families or partners because of the inability to stand by and watch such pain. Many people lose their jobs because of the amount of time missed from work. But others have partners who stand by them and bosses who work around them.
We all go on living. It is our choice how we let this affect who we are. What challenges do you face each day? What choices do you make?
The screams meet deaf ears because the offender is inside you. Your own body is attacking itself. It is as if your body is reaching inside and squeezing and slashing your gut. The pain is insufferable. You grasp for breath and twist and turn trying to find a position where the pain will ease. But there is no place, there is no respite. Finally you find the bottle of pills and take one. Still your body keeps up its internal war against itself. The cries of help bring your family running to your side. They try to help, yet it is impossible. There is nothing they can do, they are as helpless as you are. Finally it is time for another pill, the pain killer. Slowly you feel your body begin to fall under the pill's spell. It releases its hold and you can breathe again. You slip into unconsciousness and blissful sleep. It feels as if you have just closed your eyes when the war begins once more. This time your body is fighting so hard it is forcing everything to evacuate. You vomit over and over trying to expell whatever is angering your body. But there is no relief. You try another pain killer and the big gun - Xanax. And slowly your body submits to the drugs. You once more slip into unconsciousness.
You wake after many hours of sleep, yet you don't really wake. That won't come for several days. You will be weak, sleepy and woozy for at least three to four days afterwards.
This is a Crohn's attack. Different people experience different pain, different drugs, etc. But the common thing is how much Crohn's affects your life. It is a nasty disease which can be devastating for some. Many people lose their families or partners because of the inability to stand by and watch such pain. Many people lose their jobs because of the amount of time missed from work. But others have partners who stand by them and bosses who work around them.
We all go on living. It is our choice how we let this affect who we are. What challenges do you face each day? What choices do you make?
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Growing Up
Since life has served up many curve balls as of late, I have been forced to ponder my life and my state of mind. When each curve ball reached "home plate" I realized that I was dealing with the change with calm and peace which is not my norm. I finally came to the conclusion that this must be from maturity. As I looked over the past decade, I realized again that growing up was a theme. At this point in my life, I finally have enough experiences to help support the fact that (1) God is not going anywhere; (2) Jack is not going anywhere; (3) panicking really doesn't help at all; (4) we can get through tough times; (5) change is not all bad.
I am beginning to see that we really don't enter adulthood until our 30's. At 21 we haven't yet experienced much of anything on our own. I got married at 21. I thought I was pretty adult, and I was technically. But it was the beginning. That was when I started accumulating experiences that helped to shape the adult I am today. Figuring out how to make our small paycheck stretch over a month, having to negotiate a relationship with a man, having a child, having a child almost die, having another child, moving, having all my decisions come back to me and me alone. All of these and many, many more are the experiences that show me that God has been with me all along. She has never left my side. Jack has stayed for the long haul. It hasn't always been easy, but he is not going anywhere. Panic is a barrier to thinking, it does not help me make good decisions. Jack and I have gotten through some really tough times together and we have always come out stronger in the end. Many of the experiences I would have labeled as "bad" have really helped me to grow the most....change is okay.
I know I am not done yet. I still have many more phases in life to go. But it is nice to now know that whatever is out there, I will not be alone and I will be okay.
I am beginning to see that we really don't enter adulthood until our 30's. At 21 we haven't yet experienced much of anything on our own. I got married at 21. I thought I was pretty adult, and I was technically. But it was the beginning. That was when I started accumulating experiences that helped to shape the adult I am today. Figuring out how to make our small paycheck stretch over a month, having to negotiate a relationship with a man, having a child, having a child almost die, having another child, moving, having all my decisions come back to me and me alone. All of these and many, many more are the experiences that show me that God has been with me all along. She has never left my side. Jack has stayed for the long haul. It hasn't always been easy, but he is not going anywhere. Panic is a barrier to thinking, it does not help me make good decisions. Jack and I have gotten through some really tough times together and we have always come out stronger in the end. Many of the experiences I would have labeled as "bad" have really helped me to grow the most....change is okay.
I know I am not done yet. I still have many more phases in life to go. But it is nice to now know that whatever is out there, I will not be alone and I will be okay.
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