Polarities

Today I heard about someone who is struggling with real serious true depression.  And then I heard someone else say, hours later, that they are the happiest they have ever been.

The vastness of the human experience has me bewildered this evening.

Before bed, my son wanted a jumbo muffin as a snack.  I tiredly explained to him, that he had already had one today, and so no, he could not have another.  He was bizarrely upset, and I was kind of sick of the theatrics and explained, as mothers do, that somewhere there are starving children that would be happy for any food today, because they have not eaten.

It stopped the tears, and I think he was genuinely confused by this, because it is such a foreign concept to his little naive brain.

And really it is such a strange concept to me.  Why does my kid have food, and some kid is dying of an empty belly?  Why is one friend at the end of their rope, and another having the time of their life.  Why do I live here in a free and plentiful land, and someone else is born into oppression.

I guess I should just throw up a big Thank YOU, and shut-up, but it generally has me paranoid, looking over my shoulder, and feeling guilty.

Terrorism in all its forms.

I'm a Christian.  

I fail at it often.  

But there are some fundamentals of being a Christian that I try to follow. 

Jesus said not only to love our neighbour, but our enemies as well.  He told us to pray for those that despise us and persecute us.  We are to forgive 70 x 7 every day. 

It is because I absolutely believe this to be  amongst the foundational precepts of being a Christian, that I cannot join in the celebrations over the death of Osama Bin Laden. 

Religion aside, do we really think we have conquered terrorism because a single man is dead?    

Do we actually still believe in an eye for an eye like the Old Testament taught, or have we moved into the priesthood of Jesus that teaches us to love and forgive, and that God will be the only Judge and Avenger.  

Do we believe that this man was beyond redemption?  That he is somehow excluded from the world that God loved so much that He gave His only begotten Son?  

Did I want him found and captured?  Absolutely.  

But I will not cheer the death of man who has now no chance of salvation.  

I'll end this with a little quote that has been floating around the internet today:


"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."
--Martin Luther King, Jr

My Valentine

I sat down to write about my valentines today.

I wanted to create a little love letter for my husband, and for my sweet children.  I thought it would be nice, to spell out what they mean to me every day.

But as I sat here, trying to come up with words big enough, I was chastened a little.

Just yesterday, we heard a story of a little girl, drawing her heart and fitting all of those she loved into it.  Her mom gently reminded her that she hadn't left a spot for God, so she found a little space and squeezed him in.  Her mom was proud, but the lesson was that God doesn't want a little corner of our heart.  He wants our whole heart.

Here I am one day later, wondering what grand gestures of love I can perform in honor of my husband and children.

But I have yet to kneel down and pray.

I haven't opened my bible today in an effort to seek out the greatest love letter that's ever been written... and just for me.

I haven't sought the affections of my true soul-mate today, nor have I even begun to understand what it means to love God with all of my heart and soul and mind.

I am thankful for this little reminder that if I truly love my family, I will seek the kingdom of God first.

When I was young

I was warm and bright, like a ray of sunshine
I shimmered like translucent bubbles carried away on the breeze
I radiated kindness
lived for hope
was earnest and involved

but underneath, surely
there was something a little sad
a bit sorrowful

a sliver of grief
that perhaps I pushed away
in pursuit of fairy tales and ever afters.

But as I have grown
and see myself now

I realize that what was hidden
and small
has grown and overtaken
like brambles on an old house.

Somehow I have become
what I should never have been
what I should have suppressed.

What was honorable and good
and positive
has given way

to negativity, doubt
cynicism and sarcasm

none of which is becoming
and most of which I would never
have believed to be possible

in the effervescent joy of my youth.

This marvel, known onetime, as the world wide web

shoots rays of information into our brains like lasers

faster than our fingers can even keep up

with all that I have learned at its feet

I can now call myself

an expert on all things indie (music/books/films/clothing)

a fashionista or critic or designer

stylist

interior designer

chef

baker

writer

photographer

artist

business owner

thrifter

antiquer

Anthro-lover

best-mom-ever

friend to people I hardly know

advice-giver

medical doctor 

private investigator

cultured

world-traveler

foodie

political activist

naturopath

child-raiser

lover/spouse/significant other

crafter

sewer

renovator

glue-gunner

refurbisher

religious expert

shopping guru

consumer on steroids

environmental steward

pet guardian

musician

really there is no end to the things I can be thanks to everything I can learn via the internet.  And so, I think I'll just be it all,  a renaissance woman for the new millenia with plenty of bandwagons to hop on and off of.   It seems that the idea of originality, talent and uniqueness has left the building, along with Elvis... or maybe it was just one of his impersonators. 

But if you can't fight 'em... join em.   No wonder I don't sleep.... who has time? 

one thing I like about myself

(no this is not an exercise in self-esteem)

is that I have nice color to my lips.  Which really helps when you don't wear make-up.

pit-stop

I am kind of failing life on a large scale.

There is really nothing left.
To give, share, hope for or desire.

Even an empty vessel still bears
the promise of usefulness.

Fulfillment.

But this is not empty, this is inside out.
But this is not empty. It is broke.

So broke, that even despair and grief elude me.
(Or bore me perhaps.)

To put it another way:
I don't care, that I don't care.

My husband and children have started
eyeing me warily.

Wondering when it is I will
begin aagain to tend to
the dusty corners of our life.

And I wonder too
when it will sink in

that even
bad mothers must
occasionally
make a meal or tidy-up

that even
lousy wives must
praise and cajole
tender egos

that even
talentless modern women must
march onward on the road
to self-discovery

that even
faithless Christians must
return to their knees
in humbled thanksgiving


but more than this
I wonder when
the tingling in my own brain
will go away

and give me some peace
and let me get back
to my mediocre ways.