It's a Wonderful Life: Swimming in the deep end

Pivotal Moments...

Tue, 20 Feb 2007 14:17:04 GMT

Cheryl over at Cross and Quill has this question for us: If you could rewrite one pivotal moment in history, good or bad, to make a change, which moment would that be AND what are some of the consequences that you believe might come from that change?

I have always questioned just what might have happened had Lincoln not died. But a recent wonder has been what would have happened had China not decided to remain closed to the rest of the world for so long. That is a huge nation with a strong and proud culture! And if the Asian races were truly the predecessors to some of the Indian and Alaskan cultures, can you imagine how different the US would be if that influence had continued? Perhaps the Asian people wouldn't have been harrassed during the gold rush time... maybe Japan would not have sided with Hitler (I know that's Japan, not China, but they had to have been an influence on one another to some degree). Perhaps Christianity would have spread to that great nation much quicker and to others much faster as a consequence??? hmmmm

To a much more trivial and less serious degree, maybe this country would have had fireworks and spaghetti quiker!

What do you think?

The Trouble With People Today...

Thu, 25 Jan 2007 13:44:51 GMT

I love "What About Winn Dixie"... have you read the book?? Seen the movie?? Moira got up this morning with her Daddy and me. Had a rough start because I needed to be suddenly (at least to her) up and doing things... making breakfast, coffee... finding a clean t-shirt. She made it back into the living room with her egg and bread and turned the tv on (As an aside, I'm not quite sure I like her first reaction to be turning on the boob-tube, but it's got it's advantages). "Winn Dixie" was on HBO and she is completely and totally beside herself when she sees animals on tv, so that's where it stayed. Picture her sitting on the couch, raptly attentive... sucking in quick little 20 month old breaths through that little circle mouth... eyebrows lifted. She was happy.

Tom is eatting his egg sandwhich before he has to rush off to make an 8:15 meeting that he called (I told you this is a 45 minute commute for him, right?). "You know, this makes all the difference in the world." Eatting breakfast. Awwwww Then my heart wants to know if all 18 month olds are this full of personality. "Dear, she's 20 months old"... "No she's not... she'll always be 18 months, Perrin and Sam will always be 11 and you'll always be 30". Awwww (I'm NOT 30... I'm on my way to 40, so you understand.)

So the little girl in the movie, India Opal, says "... the trouble with people today is they've forgotten to share their sadness. But I think the problem is they've forgotten to share their joy." And of course she has that wonderful mutt who seems to actually smile when he's joyful! And I'll add that I think we've forgotten to share a lot more than sadness or joy, although maybe it all boils down to that in the end. How much did it take for my heart to put voice to his pleasure with breakfast? Not much... but he could easily have forgotten, or not even thought to mention it. After all, it wasn't such a big thing... took maybe 5 minutes to do that and make coffee and took even less time to eat. So I don't think we intentionally forget to share our little joys and sadnesses... they just take an active decision to not let them get buried under the "more important stuff" or just the quantity of stuff that makes up our days.

"No man is an island." "No man is a failure who has friends." We all affect the people in our lives. The people we just happen to smile at on the street, our closer friends who *have our backs* when we do stupid stuff like run out of gas in the car on the way to special events (Thank you, again guys!)... and our close family whom we sometimes get in the habit of taking for granted because our job or our public persona isn't on the line. When I had to grudgingly ask for help during the aforementioned stupid incident, my friend commented that we really don't like asking people for help, but are we begrudging them an opportunity to serve, like our Lord directed us to? I see his point. And I agree... and it fits nicely with this theme of sharing our sadnesses (an empty gas tank) and joys (friends who go the distance... figurativly AND literally). Here's my disclaimer though... I still believe it is healthy to not want to ask, because otherwise some of us, me included, would have a tendency to take advantage of people. But for the realization to hit home that we have to ask... and then to have somebody to ask , means we're mature enough to see our limitations and blessed enough to have somebody close enough to us to put all our faults on display with.

Because we've all done stupid stuff, and we've all smiled to the person passing just because... we just need to be willing to share sometimes (and maybe know when NOT to share) so that we're all not so diminished by the loss of one. There, is, after all, only One that it all depends on, but we're all small members of that One body.

Hmmmm gotta go lighten up a bit and enjoy Cliffird the Big Red Dog with Moira... getting some schoolwork started wouldn't be such a tough thing either.

OK, you might not want your children looking over your shoulder for this one...

Sat, 13 Jan 2007 15:24:00 GMT

I don't know what your state is doing, but the KY legislature is hard at work here and I'm a bit worried. Have you heard about the new HPV immunization? You've probably seen the tv commercials featuring all kinds of women saying they didn't know that they could get cervical cancer from a virus and to go to some website for more info. Well, this is what that's about.

HPV is a sexually transmitted virus that, according to my research and understanding of the thing, causes 70% of cervical cancers. 30% are caused by something else. Now, of the 70% HPV related cervical cancers, only 30% of those are protected against by this new immunization. So, 40% of HPV related cervical cancers are not protected against as well as the 30% that have nothing to do with HPV. All this still means that there are a lot of cervical cancers that now, thankfully, have an immunization for. But there are many more that do not. And the health profession will still be promoting paps for any menstruating girl or woman to detect cervical cancer. Those tests (YUCK) are suggested very regularly and so, have a very high rate of catching cervical cancer cases early enough to successfully treat.

Here's the clincher... my state, and probably yours too, sometime in the near future, is trying to add this immunization to the list that children have to get before they can register for 6th grade. But not all children... only girls... This virus, however, is passed by boys and girls alike through sexual contact. So, you ask... what's the problem... anything that will prevent my daughter from having to go through cancer...

Why would the state deem it necessary to force my daughters to have a shot that prevents a sexually transmitted virus??? Isn't that in the pervue of a parent's best intentions and knowledge of their own child? And yes, I know that daughters don't always measure up to what we want for them in this area... emotions run high, "I know it all", "my parents don't understand our relationship" and all of that... but still... this MUST be a parents decision because it entails discussion and understanding of sexuality. This can not be relagated to a fear of cancer issue or is your child up to date on their immunizations?...

Cancer is a very devestating thing... my family has suffered from several deaths due to cancer. But I DO NOT give up my right to make that kind of decision for my daughters.

And even if I did... what about the sons?... they carry it too! If it's protection we're after here, let's not stop with our daughters. But, me thinks me smell a rat here... is there some other agenda?

3 Wooden Crosses and a Baby on a Bus

Wed, 03 Jan 2007 13:32:52 GMT

I have been kind of emotional lately. Which is out of character for me... at least outwardly. I'm very blessed to not suffer so much emotional/hormonal overload every month, but for the past couple of months, I've had a fair few moments!

Going back to the grandparent's homes for Christmas for instance. Tom and I are equally matched... he is what I am not in so many ways. Both good and bad. Where I tend to stay very calm in appearances, he has to vent quite a little bit to avoid the big explosions. (As we get older we seem to, each of us, be moderating towards each other, so who knows how explosive I may be when I'm 80! I just won't have the physicality to back it up.) Invariably, we start off our road trips in for family functions with a grocery list of "I'm not going to put up with"... and "I'm not listening to this person or that person"... "I guess I'll go and have the same conversation I always have with ___" ( much huffing and puffing and rolling of eyes). And the children and I sit in the car trying to decide which way it would be safest to take the conversation or if even to try to maneuver it. Because this is a 2 1/2 hour trip. Eggshells do not make a comfortable seat cushion. It is so much nicer when we all start out not expecting too much and just living in the now.

Anyway, so the bad mood has been set and this time, for some reason, I'm just not up to the challenge of being the emotional counterbalance. Now, really and truly, I usually don't mind playing my role. We all have roles in every relationship and fools believe they don't. But this time it was just not going to happen. And when Mommy's in a foul mood... well, I don't usually make things worse, but I don't make them easier either. Tom has never asked me to handle this role... I'm quite sure that I could "turn it up a notch" and he would completely understand... he would even be more comfortable with me being a bit more outspoken, probably. But I usually just can't. So went this trip.

Me sitting on my side of the car, stewing in my own juices... because I knew what my Mom wanted out of our visit and I knew what wasn't likely. And it wasn't my "fault", but I wasn't going to do anything to change it either... and why doesn't he just read my mind? Stew, stew, stew... And we put in a Randy Travis CD with all the songs we know by heart and all of the memories that accompany them. Perrin wanted to listen to Christmas music, but there's just not much in the way of Christmas music that Daddy likes because it doesn't sound like he remembers it should. So we're listening to some great memories and all I can do is cry... looking out of the window because there's just not any reason for it except that I'm just not in the mood to control myself.

And then that song comes on about 3 Wooden Crosses. I had only heard it on the commercial before... so only a soundbite. Man, the complete song will really wipe you out! You need a box of tissues to hear this song, even if you're not terribly emotional. For those of you who have not heard it... a farmer, a teacher, a hooker and a preacher in a bus wreck... only one survives... the last thing you hear from the preacher is a call of redemption for the hooker "Can't you see the promised land?"... cut to the narrator asking why there was only 3 crosses instead of 4 and why his Momma had been spared to hand him (who is now a preacher) the blood stained Bible that was used to lead her to salvation? So all of these people had left meaningful lives behind them, but the hooker survived to bring meaning to her next generation. And he sings it just right to where you can not avoid the tears! And I had permission (not as if I needed it, but just because) to cry in front of my children because the song made me do it.

Then last night... How many of you grew up watching MASH? Well, it was a MAsh-a-paloussa last night on Nick at Night. Another thing I appreciate because of my Dad. And it was just a very good show, I think. Anyway, the series finally was playing and I had forgotten the punch line. Hawkeye finds himself in the looney bin in Seoul because he just finally lost it. And he's telling Sydney this story about events on a bus. How, on their way back from a beach holiday (how many MASH company's would really have been able to take off to a beach for a day off? Aaaanyway...), they had taken some refugees onto the bus and then had to "lay low", lights out and no sound, because there were enemy soldiers nearby that would kill them if they found them. And he's recounting the events with one Korean lady in the back of the bus with a chicken in her lap that just would not shut-up. He looses it with her... blows up "shut that thing up... you're going to get us all killed!!" In her face kind of stuff. Then silence. Utter and complete silence. She's suffocated it. Only it wasn't a chicken... it was a baby! And no wonder he's lost his mind because, who wouldn't going through something like that? I just could not imagine the mounting fear that would beg me to decide between my own sobbing infant and the lives of 20 other strangers. BAM! Sucker punch to the gut, cause I told you I had forgotten about this episode. I went to my bed to read cause I just can't deal with those images right now.

So, both stories are very compelling. Wouldn't you agree? I'm left pondering just how we as human beings react to things... where our roads take us and how much we personally decide which road we will take. Living is not easy, no matter how much we let it show. We make a thousand little decisions in a day that all mount up to... what? Maybe the world to somebody else and we might never know. Definitly a lifetime of decisions that pave a way, good or bad, for our children. For them, we lead by example whether we want to or not. What will be our breaking point? What is the last straw that means my children see my uncontrolled tears and beg to know why I'm crying when there is no apparent reason for it, nor do I want to talk about it. Sometimes I think I might be too strong... the question might be am I teaching my children to put up with too much? To "manage" more baggage than they should. In retrospect, I don't think so... I explain a lot of things to them. Later... when I can explain it to myself.

Talking about Whose HANDS

Sun, 31 Dec 2006 01:34:13 GMT

Quote

As you see now it depends whose hands it's in.
So put your concerns, your worries, your fears,
your hopes, your dreams, your families
and your relationships in God's hands because...
It depends whose hands it's in.
Found The HawksNest a few days ago, and she reminded me of this wonderful verse about God's infinite power. And it struck me again how much those hands have meant to me. Through several Bible studies, and in talking with friends and in Sunday Schools, you start to develop photographs in your mind's eye... things that make our reflection of the Father more real to us and our walk with Him more personal. So when I read again the verse that Lady Hawk was led to blog about, a flood of thoughts came back to me. I commented a bit at her nest, but I didn't want to litter with too many of my own feathers! So here I am.
I'm a hand kind of gal myself... eyes are the windows of a soul, but the hands are what relay all that out to our family and friends. Scripture speaks about those He protects as being the apple of His eye ( Dt. 32:10, Psalms 17:8, Zec 2:8). Eyes and our seeing Him must be very important to him, else why would Christ have healed THAT particular infirmity so many times? My NIV study Bible says in the notes for John chapter 9, " Jesus performed more miracles of this kind than any other. Giving sight to the blind was predicted as a Messianic activity (Isa 29:18, 35:5, 42:7)." Remember those hands? The same ones that will be nailed to a tree, created everything in the beginning... mud and trees to plant in it and the man who will tend them... and then in fleshly form will turn to the mud again, mixing it up to a usable consistency in the palm of his hand, to wipe over a blind man's eyes so that he can see the beauty around him. Mud in my hands won't do that. Even though faith is believing without seeing, Christ wanted this man to see his own reflection in his saviour's eye. And he became the apple of His eye all over again.
Father brings me to tears when He whispers stuff like this to me. Thank you to Lady Hawk for reminding me of the poem and allowing Him to use your hands. :)