Whaddaya nuts?

I hadn’t had the experience of someone being outright rude to me in such a long time, I forgot what that sting feels like. It started to get easy for me to hear someone complain about being disrespected and me thinking (with some degree of smugness) “Hey. Let it go. Don’t let someone else’s crazy bring you down.” Then came this week!

A woman threatened to sue me. She has no grounds and I know her threat was her way of digesting her own mistake. That drama came on the heel of someone else telling me to “Shut up,” seasoned with several derogatory comments about my lack of intelligence and my “rediculous” belief system.

As the week wound down, someone very close to me told me she disagrees with what I wholeheartedly believe to be true. Of course she has that right! So does Ms. I’m-gonna-sue-your-ass and Mr. You’re-a-dumb-bell-non-believer.

There was a time when I’d have defended myself–even congratulated myself on my snappy come-backs.

I did not respond with anger this week. (My body did react, (Ouch.) but it’s on a slower track than the rest of me.) I will choose to accept what this week has given me—a lesson in humility, a window to remember what was compared with what is. And what growth still eludes me. Compassion, (for me and them) has nothing to do with being right or wrong and everything to do with love.

Thanks for listening.

Can anybody tell me?

Can anybody tell me why they let an eighth grade boy run the Oscars?

Can anybody tell me why anyone cares what Kris Jenner thinks about anything?

Can anybody tell me why a church leader who claimed exception above decency and the law should have been voted into office in the first place?

Unconditional

He made my heart skip. Even if it was just someone who looked like him, a flock of butterflies rose in my chest. Back then, I thought I really loved that guy.

Then came years of struggle. Plenty of good to make it all bearable. At least I thought so.

Then the dagger: Truth. And my martyr years.

Then later, justified, I sang my mantra, “He got what he deserved.”                           

And now the freedom years, gifted through giving. Forgiveness. Compassion.

Love gone full-circle, all the way to unconditional.

Delicious peace.

New Year

Photo by Temari 09 Flikr

Last night I heard about a beautiful young girl who ended her life.

I didn’t know her. I don’t know what terrible burden crushed her spirit. But she inspired me to remember to give every person I meet my undivided attention. They deserve nothing less.

And thank you, wonderful reader, for your comments and encouragements.

Happy New Year.

Have anything you want to say?

National Rifle Association of America

11250 Waples Mill Road

Fairfax, VA 22030

Prologue to a Mystery

This is the start of something I’ve been working on. All comments, criticisms welcome. Thanks!

Northeastern Pennsylvania, 1972

He slowed the pick-up a mile off the state road as he searched for an old logging trail. Finding the gash in the trees, he turned in and doused the headlights, though there hadn’t been another car for miles. Moonlight poked through the canopy of trees. He waited for his eyes to adjust. After several minutes he shifted into first and started up the winding trail.  A mile later, the woods opened to an abandoned pasture studded with brambles and woodchuck holes. He maneuvered the truck in reverse, backing onto the sharply sloped field. He parked in the shadow of an ancient oak. Above, a screech owl flexed its talons, distracted from its hunt.

The man stepped into the chill. A thin layer of frost coated the blanket of dead leaves, yet his flannel shirt was glued to his back like a second skin. He removed his woolen jacket, smoothed it, and placed it on the front seat. Moving to the rear of the ’57 Chevy, he unlatched the dented tailgate and eased it down to avoid the squeak. Sound had a way of ping-ponging through the mountains, especially at night. He reached for the shovel. Staying just inside the boundary of shadow, he gripped the well-worn shaft with both hands and stomped his boot against the metal spoon. The earth refused to yield, rock-hard from a year-long drought. He labored for some time, then glanced at his glowing Timex. It was after three. Frustrated, he flung the tool down with a force that bounced it out of sight. He ran his tongue across parched lips. His stomach twisted. Slouched on the stone wall that bordered the meadow, his mind raced. His army training taught him there was always a solution. “Slow down. Think pal.” A moment later, inspiration struck.

He returned to the back of his truck and slid his cargo from its resting place. He hefted the weight over his shoulder and moved toward the wall but stumbled over a tree root. He shuddered as he imagined it reach for his ankles like a vicious tentacle. His left leg ached under the strain. He longed to rub it. At the wall, he lowered his burden to the ground.

One by one, he removed the stones and placed them on top of the shroud. When he was finished, he stood back and observed the tomb. After several adjustments, he was satisfied. No animal could unbury it. He scattered leaves along the base, smiling over his genius. The straight line of the 100-year-old wall became serpentine, as if its builder had grown bored with symmetry. He returned to the truck and eased the tailgate back into position as a new uneasiness gripped him.

“Damn, the shovel. Where is the shovel?”

His eyes darted over the ground. It was gone. He dropped to his knees. White clouds of frozen breath escaped his mouth as he crawled from the truck to the wall and back, his arms arching back and forth like some frantic swimmer. Dawn would break soon. He noticed a low keening and stopped to listen. Startled, he realized it came from within. He tried to slow his panting, but couldn’t.

“Don’t panic. It’s here somewhere.”

The owl trilled. Bare branches grazed each other as the wind rose.

“The tree. I was underneath the tree when the shovel pissed me off.”

Within minutes, he found the tool and stowed it behind the front seat. Sliding behind the wheel, he released the parking brake, stepped on the clutch and shifted into neutral.  The pitch of the ground edged the truck forward which picked up momentum as the man steered left and rolled down the trail. Just before he reached the main road, he popped the clutch. As the engine roared to life, he flipped on the headlights and patted the dash, ignoring the ache that filled his chest.

Thanks!

I am grateful for the journey,

For sacrifice given freely, no strings.

For joy. For tears. For healing. For rest. 

For forgiveness,

Offered,

Accepted.

I am grateful for the knowing.

When we allow it, we are love.

Afraid. Cold. Hungry.

Is our civilization based on an energy supply?

Is abundance the only thing that prevents us from unraveling to anarchy?

What must life be like for people who are afraid, cold and hungry week after week, year after year?

Keone Singlehurst of the Rockaways byMark Morales/New York Daily News

 

 

Love = Logic

Still Learning

Last month, my daughter was excited to tell me she’d ordered a free bumper sticker for me: “Legalize Love.” Awesome, I thought. Love everyone enough to want health care available to all.

Wake up sleepy head. That’s not what it means.

All people, regardless of their sexual orientation, should have the right to marry.

Oh. Hang on a second. Sure, I believe it. But do I believe it enough to be brave enough to put that pronouncement on my car? Don’t I get tailgated enough as it is?

Roll back the clock a few years. As a passionate follower of Christianity, I became a member of an organization that makes this claim on its website:  “Aglow is a dynamic, global organization made up of women and men with a single purpose: to see God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven through prayer, local groups, events and outreaches.”

Sounds okay, doesn’t it? A group of caring people who want love to make the decisions?

I left that religion’s belief system ages ago, but earlier this month the alarm clock sounded; I learned I was still on Aglow’s mailing list. I responded to the author of the following email and was going to let it go at that, but I’ve made this blog a vehicle to share who I am and what I believe.

This is no time to be chicken. Where the heck is that mail carrier with my sticker?

(You are so cool, Cara.)

---

Date: Fri, 3 Aug 2012 16:05:15 -0400
Subject: Urgent prayer request for the Southeast Region
From: joygreenseregion@gmail.com
To: (This was left blank, so I guess it’s to everyone?)

Dear Southeast Regional leaders,

Urgent prayer needed for this country! Come with clean hands and a pure heart to pray. We war not against flesh and blood, but against powers and principalities and wickedness in high places. Today is a day to rise up and pray for Chick-fil-a and to decree over our nation:

1. We decree that God will shut the gates to the enemy in this nation, in Jesus name.

2. Let the fire of God invade every organized strategy of the demonic world in this nation today, in Jesus name.

3. We send confusion and fire into every satanic gathering in this nation today, in Jesus name

4. We command the church to rise up and declare that the gates of hell will not prevail against it, in Jesus name.

5. We arrest every perverse spirit that is operating in this nation and we command them to bow to the name of Jesus.

6. We shut down every satanic assault and assignment against this nation now, in Jesus name.

7. We plead the blood of Jesus against every spirit of contamination that is attempting to invade our nation, in Jesus name.

8. We send the fire of God to consume the plans of the enemy and destroy every evil altar that he is attempting to build in this nation, in Jesus name

9. Arise oh God and let our enemies be scattered, in Jesus name.

10. We bind every power and principality that is legislating in the atmosphere and loose the power and presence of God, in every city, in Jesus name!

11. We command every satanic gathering to disband as we send the fire of God and confusion into the camp of the enemy, in Jesus name!

12. Let the fire go before us, burn and destroy all the enemies of this nation, in Jesus name!

13. We loose the presence of God into the atmosphere of this nation, in Jesus name!

14. We open the gates for the King of glory to enter in, in Jesus name!

Thank you for standing in the gap for this nation,

God bless,

U.S. Director S.E. Region

Aglow International

P.O. Box 3295

Brandon, FL 33509