It's Like Having God Around

While my husband and I do not currently have any pets, we have had several in the past including four dogs, three cats, several parakeets, and even a guinea pig for a short while. I know pets can be loyal, and some would even claim--more loyal--than a spouse. While continuing to read Anne Lamott's Blue Shoe during the Christmas holidays, I found this line: "There's nothing like a good dog . . . It's like having God around, isn't it?" I love stories about the faithfulness and loyalty of pets. While I have not yet seen the current film Marley and Me, I have already read a review that suggests it will have some teary moments in it.

My favorite story recently concerns a good friend of ours who has had two knee replacements in the past year. As part of the treatment, he must lie in bed for at least six hours a day with a motion machine attached to his leg to provide bending exercises. The dog in the family, according to our calculations in human years must now be somewhere between 98 to 105. The cat Frisky's fur is stiff, he is thin, and his back is bent. Yet he insists on sleeping on a towel at the foot of his master's bed during this time of his master's recuperation.

Dogs, of course, are not the only animal to be so loyal. My daughter's partner lost her dad to colon cancer several years back. His cat performed the same loyal act as Frisky. Nursing homes also report that some of their live-in cats instinctually know when a patient is dying and also sleep at the foot of the patient's bed during the weeks before death.

While these examples of pet loyalty can never actually replace having the knowledge and belief that God is around, they are nonetheless still very comforting.

The Sacred Messiness of Life

I recently heard a Rabbi speaking of his book entitled Yearnings: Embracing the Sacred Messiness of Life. I think I have only recently begun to truly learn that I have no control on how life will go. In my book The Skagway Connection, which is the story of my spiritual journey, I write of the messiness of my own childhood. This messiness includes almost all of the favorite topics of confessional writing: divorce, alcoholism, sexual abuse, clinical depression, poverty, several home environments, and other various and sundry subjects. My hope was that, once I became an adult and survived the above situations, my life would be perfect. I had to think again.

I have found that in recent years many of the old challenges from the past have re-entered my life. These have included, among others, divorce but also some new ones such as acknowledgement of sexual orientation, the possibility of gay marriage, a grandchild who has two mothers and two fathers, the threat of violence to a close family member, and grandchildren (and potential grandchildren) who are in counseling. Life is indeed somewhat messy.

What gives me comfort in confronting new challenges, however, is examining the sacred messiness of the Bible's most popular figures: Abraham, Jacob, David, and others. Abraham, the great patriarch of the Old Testament lied about Sarai being his wife in order to protect himself from harm. Jacob was a deceiver who literally stole the family birthright from under his brother Esau's nose and later dreaded meeting his brother again even after many year had passed. David was an adulterer who fathered a child with another man's wife and later had her husband killed by putting him on the front line for battle. All of these characters are fully human--as are we.

As I think about life today, I realize that I have spent far too much time in my life trying to have a perfect life while at the same time also judging others for their imperfect lives. I hope to embrace life and all of its potential messy challenges as the new year approaches.

The Point of Life

I have been reading Anne Lamott's 2002 novel entitled Blue Shoe. At one point in the protagonist's musing about her messy life (ex-husband that she still sleeps with, a mother who is increasingly becoming more and more senile, a father who perhaps fathered a child with a young girl, two children who show signs of anxiety, and loneliness as a single mother), she quotes Kafka. Never one to be a beacon of life during his relatively short life, Kafka said, "The point of life is that it ends." I would rather think, as a Christian, that the point of life is that it never ends. Of course, we are all realists to know that physical life ends, but, according to the Scripture we have spent our lives subscribing to, a never-ending life of joy awaits us in eternity.

I suppose all of us think about our mortality more as we age and the brief transience of our lives. A holiday movie that addresses this issue beautifully is currently playing: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. While I have not seen the movie as yet, I have read the F. Scott Fitzgerald short story upon which it is based. Its key point is that we need to enjoy and savor the moments on earth that we have. The movie supposedly is more of a love story as the characters age--one forward and the other backward--and the very short time we have to love each other.

The church that I currently attend believes the kingdom of God is on this earth; my previous church believes the kingdom of God is in eternity when all will be perfect. Since I am an amalgamation of all my religious teaching, I believe both ideas are possible. We need to work on this earth to fulfill Christ's view of His kingdom: a place of justice and peace. We also need to keep in mind that the point of life may not be that it ends, but that it is just beginning.

Tracking Jesus

The news has been filled the past week with stories of baby Jesus statues that have been stolen from their places in manger scenes throughout the United States. One church has lost three thus far: an $1800 imported Jesus made in Italy, a $500 replacement made in the U.S., and an inexpensive rubber doll. It is currently attaching a GPS system inside the 4th doll in order to track it should it also disappear. Evidently, teens think stealing Jesus is a rather amusing adventure during the Christmas season.

Today on Christmas Eve day, we are told by numerous weather people that we can also track the presence of Santa as he goes around the world with his sleigh and reindeer delivering presents to good little boys and girls. Currently, as I write, he is over Japan. While I think the use of GPS systems has kept many people on the right track, I don't think we need them to discover either the presence of Christ or Santa. As Christians, we know He has been in our hearts for many years.

This morning in the Bible I was reading from Acts, chapter 17, which is set in Athens, and centers on the Apostle Paul's sermon on Mars' Hill. Addressing both the Athenians and the foreigners, Paul speaks the following words: "He (God) is not far from each one of us; for in Him we live and move and have our being . . . ."

Although we are assured of these words, many of us act as if we need a GPS system to find Christ. We go about our tasks each day rather blindly, depending upon ourselves and our own strength to accomplish our goals. It is only when we perceive Christ has somehow disappeared from our lives that we begin fretting and seeking Him once again. For 2009 we need to hold Him close so that He doesn't seem so far away. We do not need a GPS system.

Justice--In a Minute

America has traditionally been known as being a nation in a hurry. This fact has been borne out in many areas recently such as driving by a fast food establishment for a take-out dinner, driving by to leave clothes for cleaning, driving by to check out a DVD, and even driving by to go to church or to get a flu shot. I suggest that we also consider drive-by courts, similar to Judge Judy's, but much faster--perhaps to obtain justice in a minute or so.

My first experience, after sixty-four years of life, within a courtroom took place this week in Little Rock. A very close relative had made an accusation and filed a police report a few months back with the police department. The charge for the defendant was aggravated assault and third degree battery. My husband and I chose to observe the proceedings and lend as much moral support as we could. We had assumed testimony would be heard and then a decision would be rendered by the judge. Instead, when we arrived in the courtroom, we were all informed that the decision had already been made by the judge, the defense attorney, and the prosecutor BEFORE the trial. My relative was asked if he still wanted to proceed with the testimonies; he said "yes," knowing the outcome ahead of time but wanting to get the trial on record. The judge ruled shortly that the trial would be suspended for a year. Evidently, this move is to allow the defendant either to behave and quit threatening to kill everyone involved, or to go ahead and be violent again. Frankly, I would have preferred that the three decision-makers take more seriously spousal abuse and violent attacks. I now see why the police get discouraged with the judicial system.

Other observations I have about justice-in-a-minute decisions are that most of the defendants in court that day were minorities--either African-American or Hispanic. I am not one to say that shoplifting, petty theft, not paying rent, and other crimes are related to race or culture. I do believe, however, that the relationship between economic need and crime is strong. Until we as a society can provide decent wages and an adequate standard of living, this trend will continue.

Another observation I have concerns the number of domestic battery cases that came before the judge for their minute of justice. The women, without fail, claimed that whatever violence that took place in the family structure was their fault. I somehow doubt it. Once again, we see the difficulty of abused women actually testifying against their significant others. It is simply easier to claim fault and walk away with the accused hand-in-hand, the no-contact order forgotten, only to wait for the next violent fight.

Perhaps I am naive to believe justice can exist in America. I do not believe, however, it can be doled out in a minute, or less.

Extreme Measures

Due to the challenging economic times which America, and the rest of the world, finds itself in, many are taking extreme measures to make ends meet. The media have been reporting on a number of stories that might give us pause. One occurred on the Today show yesterday morning concerning a baby who died because his mother was trying to stretch his baby formula by adding an overabundance of water. The baby evidently weighed two-thirds of his ideal weight when he died. The mother had no idea that her baby could die from such a measure.

Another report tells us of the dropping sales in the meat industry, including poultry and fish. People are eating less meat and more potatoes and pasta. Obesity rates are destined to increase yet again. Though I do not have direct evidence, I am assuming also that people in retirement are also trying to conserve on their food in order to buy their prescribed medicines. Since my husband was in the "doughnut" hole the final three months of this year, I have been sharing my blood pressure medicine with him until 2009. At that time he can buy more at his plan's regular prices. A couple of his doctors were gracious enough to provide him samples for his other two prescriptions until the new year.

All this is to say that, at this point, my husband and I have made few sacrifices, i. e. eliminating Starbucks lattes from our list of preferred activities, cutting down the number of restaurant meals per week to one, and trimming our Christmas gift budget. Economists have just announced that we have already been in recession for one year. My prediction is that we will be in a depression for the next five years or more. I hope I am wrong.

The government is simply printing billions of dollars in order to flood the economy with money. I believe Germany also took these extreme measures back in the late 1930's. Let's just hope, and pray, that history does not repeat itself.

Bushes Burn

As we discussed a number of topics at the conference I attended on the weekend, one of the Scripture passages came up that we all know. It is found in Exodus, chapter 3, where the angel of the Lord appears to Moses through a burning bush. In a desert, of course, that image might not be too unusual, but as I think about the California wildfires for the past week or so, perhaps it is. Unlike the hundreds of homes and miles of landscape that have been consumed, this particular bush was not consumed. God, it seems, wanted Moses to stop, take time to listen to His words, and respond. I wonder how many times God has either spoken to us in His still quiet voice or through a dramatic situation and we have simply continued on our tasks ignoring Him.

It seems now that I am in my sixties I have more time to reflect upon lost opportunities of the past than ever. I do not believe God wants to to feel guilty about these, and I do believe He still speaks to us and give us new challenges at any age. I go to a church downtown that participates in numerous outreach activities in conjunction with other churches in the city. It provides a number of opportunities for its members to learn and grow spiritually. It does not, however, seem to have any evangelistic programs to bring in new members.

The church essentially has four missions: to grow closer to God personally, to participate within the church community in rituals and activities, to help others through social outreach programs, and to evangelize. I believe the latter is equally as important as are the other three. As I look around the congregation each Sunday morning, I realize again the need to bring in new people. How to do that exactly I am not sure. I trust that I will listen to God's voice should He speak in a burning bush, or otherwise, to me personally.

Something to Live For

This week, as part of our Bible study, we discussed a famous chapter from Fyodor Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. It's the one entitled "The Grand Inquisitor." The premise centers around one of the brothers, Ivan, who is planning to write a literary piece about heavenly powers coming to earth in the sixteenth century to debate religion. Dostoevsky for many has challenged us through the years to wrap our minds around many fascinating ideas. This piece is no exception. At one point of the story, the grand inquisitor (representing Satan) says to the Christ figure, "For the mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for." This statement has made me rethink my own ideas relating to retirement.

I have always been a person who set goals consistently for myself from the time I was young. I guess it comes from being raised in a family that realistically had little to look forward to from day to day. Yet somehow, from our being exposed to books at the public library and a mother who read voraciously, my sister and I began to believe we too could go beyond the possibility of just staying alive in order to find something beyond ourselves to live for. We have both devoted ourselves to do our best to sacrifice and serve. My sister is a great hostess and caregiver for those in need, especially the elderly. Her latest project is to work with the homeless through a new church program. I have chosen to work for years in non-profit Christian institutions, spending many hours speaking to students on life development goals, cooking breakfast for them, taking them on field trips, and counseling them on a one-on-one basis. Now that my sister and I are both retired, however, I at least have wondered if I should sit back and let others do the work of the world. Could I be happy simply existing?

My answer might have come a couple of weeks ago when I received an invitation from Joanna, our church deacon, to train as a facilitator for the DOCC program (Disciples of Christ in Community). It's an 18 hour program led by a bishop from New Orleans, William Barnwell. I have come to the conclusion, as our previous pastor for years, Cliff Palmer, used to say frequently, "One can never retire from the work of the Lord." I believe that, even in the retirement years, we can still be productive. All of us need to go beyond simply existing and find an area where we can go beyond ourselves and find new goals to live for.

Triple Standards

In an interview yesterday, Sarah Palin indicated that she had a word for future women who would run for office or seek to obtain a high position in a man's world. She must be prepared to work extra hard and expect a lot of double standards to be applied. The interview came in light of the presssure this week to answer charges from within the campaign that Palin was a diva. I submit that not only must a woman in today's world work hard, but she must also be prepared for triple standards as well.

It has long been known that conservative women face a tremendous uphill battle in the Republican world. These are standards imposed upon them by men. Ask any woman like myself who has also faced this battle, and we can give you many examples of double standards. For years we have been taught in our churches that women's places were in the home, nurturing their husbands and children and also participating in church ministries. I attended a retreat in the early 1980's at my former university only to hear an administrator claim that women's careers were not as important to them as men's careers were to them. Unfortunately, that double standard still continues a quarter of a century later.

The triple standard comes from other women who resent a newcomer's success for one reason or another. From conservative women critics, we hear that Palin is too attractive and young and obviously chosen by McCain because of her beauty. They speak these words only after being declared irrelevant themselves since their own beauty and youth have long faded. Liberal women, as Charles Krauthammer said in his newspaper column today, have been obsessed with "a psychodrama of feminist rage and elite loathing" of Palin. While they claim to represent all women, they simply represent women who are pro-choice only. Sadly, that representation excludes one-half of us.

While I am thrilled for all the African-Americans who now know that yes, indeed, they too can now become President of the United States, I wonder how much longer we women will wait for the same opportunity. Triple standards are not easily erased in American society.

What Would Mother Say?

For the past few weeks I have been reading Jan Karon's Mitford series and am currently in book two, A Light in the Window. The series was extremely popular among Christian women in the mid-1990's. Now that I am retired I have more time for reading books that I am not preparing to teach. This book features two main characters, Father Tim who is a sixty-two years old Episcopalian priest and his next door neighbor, Cynthia, with whom he has fallen in love. As Father Tim is searching for an amethyst brooch he had given his deceased mother, he asks the question, "What would his own mother say if she could speak to him now?" For all of us whose mothers have died, we sometimes ask the same question of ourselves.

If I could speak to my mother again directly, I believe my mother would be filled with joy for me. She would say, "Lisa, I am so glad you have the time now that you are retired to enjoy nature. You worked so hard through the years that the time just flew by. Enjoy the creation, especially in the autumn of your life. Like the trees outside your windows today, the leaves will slowly drop in preparation for the winter months. That should not diminish, however, the joy we have for the precious moments of today."

I believe my mother would also say, "Now that you are not so tired with work, getting your doctorate, raising your children, being a wife, and having various ministires, you can also enjoy stretching your mind and appreciating the Incarnation. You can actually think about what you are reading in your daily Bible reading and meditate upon the universal truths within it. You remember that I was a searcher all my life for truth, and now you are joining me in that search."

I have to ask myself also, in fairness, what I would say to my mother if we could miraculously once again sit in my living room or hers and have a long conversation. I would probably say more about sorrow than joy. I would have to give my regrets in this way, "I am sorry that I did not take more time when you were alive to appreciate your wisdom and just sit for hours listening as you talked about your love for my father, your love for us, and your desire to have us be faithful Christians." I am sure I would also say, "I regret that I did not fully understand how hard your life was as a single mother through the years working several jobs in order for us to pay our bills. It has only been in recent years through reading your letters to Kimberly [our daughter] that I began to understand the tough environment you lived in with Daddy [an alcoholic, womanizer, and compulsive gambler].

The Bible assures us in the New Testament that we will have no regrets in heaven, only joy. I look forward to that day.

Damned If She Does, Damned If She Doesn't

The latest criticism of Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin this past week has been brutal. Not only has she been attacked by many for her purchase of $150,000 of clothes from such department stores as Neiman Marcus and Saks Fifth Avenue, but she has also been attacked because she is attractive. Mind you, these attacks are not necessarily from liberal, pro-choice women but from women from her own party, Peggy Noonan and Kathleen Parker.

On the issue of the clothing, which McCain has said would be donated after the campaign to a charitable cause, how exactly would the public have responded to seeing Sarah Palin in wool while campaigning in humid Florida? Alaskans rarely wear any tropical clothing. She has a yearly income of $166,000 and has five children, hardly enough to purchase a new wardrobe worthy of a vice-presidential candidate. Elitists from Eastern ivy-league universities have already diminished her for getting her college degree from a state school. Who knows how they would have reacted to seeing her campaign in fur in late summer?

In regard to the conservative women attacks on Palin, I can only say that it is common to thrust daggers into the backs of other woman, particularly if the attackers are Southern (a fine long-held tradition). Both Peggy Noonan and Kathleen Parker are far past the age where they themselves are considered attractive anymore by men. They have no doubt noticed in recent years that men don't tend to look at them anymore, sometimes don't even open doors for them. These pathetic women may continue to flirt as if they are 18, but the grapes have withered on the vine. Instead, they take great delight in putting other women down who are now in their prime. Off-camera in September, Peggy used language certainly not becoming to a woman about Palin's selection, calling it "political bullshit about narratives and youthfulness." Parker, likewise, has indicated that McCain chose Palin for her attractiveness only. These two commentators (hardly journalists) are among the many sad, pathetic women who hide their wrinkles with their long hair and bangs, apply too much makeup, and long for the days of yore for their "many beaus" like Amanda in Tennessee Williams' famous play, The Glass Menagerie.

See No Evil, Hear No Evil

I have been thinking about the issue of pornography lately for several reasons. The first is that I have been reading for my book club this month Jeffrey Toobin's The Nine, focusing on the Supreme Court Justices. In his history of the court justices, he speaks again of the appointment of Clarence Thomas in 1991 and the testimony of Anita Hill who accused Thomas of speaking graphically about sex to her as well as his love of "pornographic films starring Long Dong Silver." After a rushed oath to swear him in as justice, reporters from the Washington Post "had testimony from eyewitnesses and the manager of a video store where Thomas rented" pornographic films. But . . . it was simply too late to affect the decision.

Another reason I have been thinking about this subject is the story of a young friend of mine who called her family recently to report that someone close to her was addicted to pornography. Her brother, who is blind, did not know what pornography was. I had never thought, though I certainly should have, about the close relationship between sight and pornographic image.

A final reason the subject looms in my thoughts is my devotional reading this morning in Our Daily Bread. The focus again is on pornography. In the Scripture reading of the day from I John 2: 16-17, we are told, "For all that is in the world--the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life--is not of the Father but is of the world. And the world is passing away, and the lust of it, but he who does the will of God abides forever."

While it would be lovely to truly see no evil or hear no evil, unfortunately our lives are not lived in bubbles. Philippians 4: 8 reminds us, however, that we are to meditate on the things that are pure, good, and praiseworthy. I wish it would be so easy to do that for those who are addicted to pornography.

For Anne . . . And All the Other Victims of Crime

My husband and I spent a fun week in Fayetteville and Wichita for several events--the annual War Eagle Arts and Crafts Show and my brother-in-law's 60th birthday. We were shocked, however, to return to Little Rock to the tragic news that one of our television reporters, Anne Pressly, had been beaten nearly to death in the early morning hours by an unknown assailant. Due to her high exposure to a large television audience daily and to the location of the crime, Little Rock's "The Heights," the outcry from the public has been deafening. The police immediately went into high gear and began heavily patrolling the neighborhood. While I strongly support the police presence in this high visibility crime, I wonder though why we do not show this same level of concern for the many crimes that occur south of Little Rock, a place where African-Americans and other minorities tend to live.

In speaking to my daughter yesterday on the phone, she told me about the "red ball" reaction. Evidently, from watching one of the crime shows on television, police officers often use this term to mean a crime of high priority which often relates to issues of wealth, race, and positions of prominence. It simply draws a lot of media and political attention.

Once again I remember my own father's homicide death in 1976. Perhaps because he was a deck hand, a transient who work up and down the Mississippi River, the police conducted a
minimum investigation, completed the death certificate, and filed his case away forever.

As Americans we have known for years about this phenomenon, yet the reality of it is still shocking. What will it take for all victims of crime in America to receive equal attention from police and the media? Yes, Ann is a beautiful, blond, young woman who appears on television every day while many other victims of crime live in poverty and tough environments. Should we value the latter any less in our zest to solve crimes?

Jesus, the Good Baker

Our Bible Study read for the third time in three years Raymond Carver's short story entitled, "A Small Good Thing." Basically, the story centers on a couple, Ann and Howard, whose son is tragically hit by a car, falls into a coma, and soon dies. Before the accident, Ann had ordered a birthday cake for her son's party, which of course she fails to pick up on time because of her son's hospitalization. The baker becomes enraged at the family because of the loss of money and time for him as a small business owner. He makes a series of harassing calls to the family. After the boy's death, however, Ann and Howard realize who has been making these calls and go to see the baker at his business. Upon learning of their tragedy, the baker asks their forgiveness and serves them limitless amounts of bread. While most contemporary stories can be read at the surface level, this one demands to be considered carefully at a spiritual level as well.

Jesus has stated many times in the Bible that he is the Bread of life. One of the verses is John 6, verse 35, "I am the Bread of life. He who comes to Me shall never hunger." In today's wobbling economy, some in the media have been advising us to begin storing food for the upcoming global depression. The Bible, however, tells us most poignantly in the Model Prayer that we are to depend upon God for "our daily bread." Like the Carver story above, "daily bread," I believe, is a literal reference but also a spiritual reference. It seems that we are being taken back to pre-Y2K levels of thinking, where the same advice was given. On the one hand, we want to be prudent planners for the future, yet at the same time we want to take God at His word--He will provide for us in times of crisis.

Do we believe that Jesus is indeed the "good Baker"? If we do, we will relax and depend upon Him for all our needs.

Come Away With Me

One of my favorite images in the New Testament occurs in the Gospel of Mark, chapter 6, verse 31 when Jesus says to His disciples, "Come aside by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while." It is important, of course, always to note the context in which these words were spoken. Jesus had recently empowered His followers to go out into the countryside in order to fulfill the mission He had given them, namely to preach, to cast out demons, and to heal the sick. The tasks I am sure must have seemed enormous to these untrained, itinerant men. The disciples had also returned to Jesus shortly after the murder of John the Baptist by King Herold. At that time they must have felt great trepidation not only about the work Christ had given them to do but also about the dangers they were putting themselves in. Many of us today who call ourselves Christians face a similar trepidation about the future.

For the past week we have been bombarded by 24-hour media coverage of our global economic crisis. The market seems to have been spooked by the number 7--a $700 billion bailout, a 777 point drop in the stock market on Monday, and 7% drop in its market value. For those of us who are retired, we are concerned about our inability to be employed again at our age, the drop in our retirement accounts, and the possibility of inflation.

Yet, in spite of all, we return to Jesus' instructions to His disciples before the life journey they were to embark upon. They were to "take nothing for the journey except a staff--no bag, no bread, no copper in their money belts--but to wear sandals, and not to put on two tunics" (v. 8-9). He has given us many promises and assurances in the Scripture that we are not to worry or to become anxious about the future because He will indeed provide. His invitation then is for us to come away with Him to a deserted place and rest a while. Tomorrow is another day for confronting the challenges of the future.

This House Has Soul

In completing Marilynne Robinson's recent novel Home, I encountered a sentence that took me back to my childhood. It basically said, "This house has soul that loves everyone, no matter what." The context was that the mother of the eight children at home always went to her kitchen to cook comfort food when problems in the household became too great for her. Essentially, it was a sign that all would return to normal at a later time. She especially liked to cook chicken and dumplings.

Today I find myself in the midst of a major family problem, religious questioning regarding the church to which I belong, and the threat of what economists are calling a "major meltdown" of the American financial markets. I go to the refrigerator and pull out several Granny Smith and Gala apples from the crisper. It is a good day to make an apple pie, I tell myself, as I begin to roll out a pie crust.

My grandmother and my sister, I believe, also were (and are) believers that houses have souls, and those souls can be expressed through cooking great comfort food. My grandmother cooked a lot of soul food, being raised in the Mississippi hills and delta. There was always fried okra, fried corn, cornbread, ham, fried chicken, and turnip greens with hot sauce simmering in her kitchen. My sister, who has spent the past thirty years in Texas, makes chicken enchiladas to die for, as we say in the South.

We, of course, have always known that comfort food will not solve the problems we are dealing with in our families and in our world, but I believe it goes a long way in soothing our feelings in difficult times.

Deranged by Hope

One of my favorite American authors, Marilynne Robinson, has just published a new novel entitled Home. It features two of the same characters from her Pulitzer-prize winning novel from a few years back, Gilead. Jack is Glory's brother who has returned to his small town home place in Iowa after an inexplicable twenty-year absence. Their aging pastor-father is dying. As the story unfolds, the reader discovers that Jack is searching for forgiveness, grace, redemption, and restoration. Unfortunately, he is unable to surrender to God his two besetting sins: alcohol and lack of true belief. On his search Jack, at one point in the novel, says to Glory that he is "deranged by hope." Robinson as author offers no solutions to Jack's problems but lets him freely explore the world of Gilead for answers.

I think Jack in many ways represents every man and every woman. We have all left the comfort and protection of home to explore a wider world; we have made mistakes; we have returned--sometimes after years of wandering--to home. Robinson acknowledges this search-- that God lets us wander--so that we will know what it feels like to return home. Upon return to home as a prodigal, God lets us do what we can to repair human relationships and to clear the weeds in our lives and replant beautiful, productive flowers. Though we can never regain the Garden of Eden, we can seek to partially bring it back. We too should keep on being "deranged by hope."

Palin as Possible President

My life has been hectic for the past week with family affairs, yet I feel compelled to write about the selection of Governor Sarah Palin as the Vice Presidential choice of Senator John McCain. From one who has been a member of Southern Baptist churches all over the South for over fifty years, I am delighted with his choice.

For years, I have listened to sermons about the subordinate position of women within the church and the family. We were to concentrate on being good mothers and wives and not cause economic problems by having a career. We were to ignore the changing roles of women within the larger society--after all, these women were considered feminazis--and we were to be "in the world but not of the world."

In regard to a woman being named a Vice President candidate, I would agree with Barack Obama's often quoted line, "We are the ones we have been waiting for." I believe I speak for thousands, perhaps millions, of women throughout the country who see Governor Palin as a break-out candidate for conservatives. She is just as qualified to be President, should John McCain die in office, as Barack Obama--perhaps more so--since she has juggled family and career interests for years now already. She can obviously become a quick learner on international issues when surrounded by a strong cabinet and congress.

Settling Our Differences

I have always been a supporter of non-violent techniques as a way to solve crises. This philosophy applies not only to national situations but to personal situations as well. Due to a family situation within the past week, I find myself asking the question, "Is non-violence always the choice when a loved one is being threatened?"

Supporters of Second Amendment rights continually draw the argument that individuals must be able to protect their families when danger comes. As we know, this amendment guarantees American citizens the right to carry and possess firearms in case of confrontation.

This political issue is one that has been close to my heart for years since my father was a victim of gun violence in the mid-1970's. As a result, for years I have felt a moral obligation to believe crises cannot be solved with further violence. I have now changed my mind.

Within the past few days, I have instructed my husband to load a small pistol that I bought years ago as a single woman living downtown in a major American city, and yes, the gun was registered and legally bought. I hope never to have to use it, but I have to say that, knowing I have it, provides some comfort during stressful events. Perhaps it is the maternal instinct always for a mother to protect her loved ones at whatever personal cost to herself. Ultimately, I believe we can still settle the vast majority of our differences without violence. We need continually to remind ourselves that violence as a way to solve problems is still unacceptable--against wives, against children, against each other: period.

Getting to Know You

My husband and I watched a film yesterday that made us think about our global communication. The film is The Band's Visit and basically centers on an Egyptian police band that gets stranded, because of a miscommunication, in a small town in Israel. The band had been invited to play in another city at the Arab Cultural Center. Because, they have few choices, they end up spending the night with the locals. In order to communicate, they use the universal language of English. By the time the band gets on a bus the next day to the correct city, they have bonded with the locals through their music, shared food, and loves both found and lost. I often wonder how we can bridge these types of differences more in America as well.

One of my friends here in Little Rock has suggested that we can bond with other cultures, religions, and races through a similar experience of the police band. His idea includes sharing a meal once a month with people who are unlike us. We tend to choose our friends mostly because they already share our values; they are simply comfortable to be with for the most part. In most cities like Little Rock, it is easy to put together a diverse group, however, with an abundance of ways to meet others: ethnic festivals in the city, church attendance to churches where the majority of members are not of our own race, and social events outside of work with our colleagues and their families. I truly believe that being able to discuss our lives, our loves, our hopes, our dreams together will bind us together as human beings. I hope to get to know others better in this way within the next few months.

Still Searching

My sister Judy recommended several weeks ago that I read the fiction book entitled The Shack by William P. Young. It has been a bestseller for quite some time and is now number one on the paperback list. It basic story centers around a man who is searching for answers from God after the abduction and murder of his young daughter Missy. His question centers on a basic conern we have had for thousands of years: Why does God permit evil, pain, and suffering in the world? I am still not sure we have an answer--or that we ever will.

Richard Dawkins, author of The God Delusion and Christopher Hitchens, author of God is Not Great, have recently presented arguments that religion is the cause of great misery in the world. Other writers, like Bart Ehrman in his book God's Problem: How the Bible Fails to Answer Our Most Important Question--Why We Suffer, have argued that perhaps God does not exist because no one has ever been able adequately to explain suffering.

Young's arguments are basically traditional ones from the organized church. Yes, God loves us greatly and gave his Son Jesus for our sins, but He also gave us free will and independence to choose either good or evil. God is with us in all pain and suffering, yet he does not always choose to intervene.

The area in which I have the most trouble understanding occurs when children, like Missy in Young's book, are hurt by adults who choose to do evil. I would think that, if ever God would intervene, it would be in these cases to protect the ones He most loves.

As for the many explanations that are continually given to explain pain and suffering, or to repudiate the belief in God, none have ever been sufficient for me. I am still searching for answers.

Commandments in the Gutter

As I began my neighborhood walk this morning, I noticed the slight cool breeze on a normally hot and humid August day. The sky was filled with thin clouds and revealed a beautiful blue sky, making intermittent showers of shade. After a week of rain it was good to be out on a walk again. As I glanced down, I noticed a postcard-sized white card in the gutter attached to a black string. It said, "Ten Commandments" at the top of the card following by the individual laws God gave Moses on Mt. Sinai. I have always been taught in my faith that God indeed does give absolute laws of right and wrong; however, many in the twenty-first century believe more in moral relativism. Is the Bible a living document (the same argument also applies to the American Constitution), or is it a word for all ages and all times? I tend to waiver on this issue.

On the one hand, it is comforting to think that God's laws are appropriate at all times. On the other hand, it would be even more comforting to think God is flexible enough to understand individual situations. For example, one of the commandments tells us that we should not kill. Yesterday in Little Rock a man who had recently lost his job came into the Democratic Headquarters downtown and shot the leader of the party randomly. He then went on to the Arkansas Baptist Convention headquarters, went up some stairs, pointed a gun at a worker there, and then inexplicably left the premises without another killing. Officers then pursued the fleeing shooter, returned fire, and killed the man. Does God give any leniency in His judgment to the perpetrator of this crime if it is shown by subsequent investigation that he was mentally ill? I believe He does.

I don't pretend to know the answer to these broad theological questions regarding right and wrong. I do believe we have to put ourselves in God's hand and trust in His word that He will be the judge. Until we stand before Him in eternity, we can just do our best to love Him and love each other but at the same time still keep the Ten Commandments in our sight as a guide. We certainly should never devalue them enough to throw them into the gutter.

Fidelity or Not--Optional

With the recent revelation that John Edwards has been having an affair during the terminal illness of his wife Elizabeth, I am once again flabbergasted by women who stand by their man. This case to me is the final straw. Yes, I was patient and made excuses for President Clinton throughout the affair with Monica (my sister, however, refused to attend his church here in Little Rock when the Clintons were in the city). Yes, I was patient when New Jersey Gov. Jim McGreevey announced his affair with another man (after all, it sometimes takes a while to discover one's true sexual identity). And I was patient through numerous other revelations from both Democrats and Republicans of their infidelities, somewhat agreeing with the argument that "it's only sex." I have now done an about-face with the Edwards scandal. I ask myself, "Is fidelity optional in marriage now?" and "Why do these women stay, especially in the face of public humiliation?"

I know everyone has been kind in the media not to mention any collusion on the part of Elizabeth Edwards herself. After all, she was informed of the affair two years ago, yet she herself chose to sweep it under the rug and carry on as usual with her husband's political ambition. Did she really believe no one but the family had to know? I believe she is just as guilty of being a hypocrite as he.

I asked my husband yesterday afternoon once again, "Do you think I would be sitting in this room having a conversation with you if you had been unfaithful?" His answer, unlike his usual long deliberation over any issue at all, was quick and to the point, "No."

Do these political women quickly calculate their own futures in the face of their husbands' infidelity? I can see no other reason for their fidelity in light of the infidelity of their significant other.

Lighting Up

This week I sent an anniversary card to my sister and her husband who are celebrating forty-five years of marriage this month. My husband and I celebrated forty-three years of marriage in July. As I recall the dating years, I remember that my mother did not have very much faith in the success of my upcoming marriage. It was not for the usual reason, however, where a parent thinks the fiance is never quite good enough for her son or daughter. It was that Mama thought I would not be good to my husband. She thought I was a bit of a diva in my behavior most of the time.

Many psychologists and counselors have often asked the question, "What makes a successful marriage?" I believe a key answer to that question comes in the form of a spouse's reaction to a significent other's short absence and return. My husband still "lights up" when I return. "Now who else would do that at my age?" I ask myself and then answer, "certainly not my children, friends, or acquaintances." Strange men who used to light up when I entered the room simply stopped looking at me when I turned fifty or so.

I think the older we get the more we light up when we look at each other; I know I have lost that sense of independence that I had in the early days of the feminist movement. Then I wanted to do exactly what I wanted and when in order to prove I really belonged to no one. These days I want to enjoy being loved and cherished by my significant other. "Lighting up" after forty plus years is all right with me.

Walking Toward Old Depot

I just read about the death of an acquaintance in Northwest Arkansas. She was a mere fifty-nine years old, and my best friend had called me about it the day before. While I had not see her for a number of years, I have the memory of her vibrant personality as the mother of two young beautiful daughters in our church. I have always heard that, as we age, our thoughts tend to move from the sensual desires of youth to the spiritual thoughts of eternity, especially as our friends begin to have health problems that are serious. I know this is true for me.

Last week while at our home near Fayetteville, my sister and I took a two-mile walk in the neighborhood. The heat and humidity were stifling even in the early morning hours, the unkempt tall grass of some neighbors was beyond being decent, and the sight of trash near a row of duplexes was unappealing. "Let's turn here," I suggested as we approached an old street in this small town. As we arrived on Old Depot Street, the temperature must have dropped several degrees because of the numerous towering oaks on each side that shaded the walkway. The scent of the mimosa tree blossoms pervaded the air. The newly fallen dry leaves crunched under our feet. We heard a cacophony, celebrating late summer with the sounds of tree frogs, locusts, and katydids. We glanced to the left and saw an apartment complex obviously designed for the older citizens in town named Savannah Park. Each unit had a small porch surrounded by a variety of potted flowers and easy chairs for visiting with neighbors. It seemed to be an oasis from life's sweltering heat and concerns. "Perhaps this is what heaven will be like," I thought to myself.

I think sometimes we worry too much about the future at my age (63). I need to remind myself to savor the moments of this life. The coming darkness is just that right now--in the future. But then, perhaps when the time comes, it might be as comforting as the houses on Old Depot.

Dodging the Spears of Life

A week or so ago, I was reading in the book of I Samuel and began to focus on a section of Scripture I had not thought about in a while. It is the one where David, the shepherd boy, is playing his music for King Saul. For no apparent reason, the king throws his spear at David announcing, "I will pin David to the wall with it." I have been thinking about the spears of life that are thrown toward us in our lives as well. Often they are just as unexpected and unwelcome, yet nevertheless can be a part of our spiritual growth and subsequent evidence of God's grace.

I am thinking especially about the many people in America now who are struggling financially because of job layoffs, illnesses, divorces, and just plain high prices for house payments, gas, and groceries. As Americans we have too often rested the past sixty years or so upon the assurance that our country is No. 1 in the world. We have depended on our ingenuity, hard work, and optimism to propel us forward and away in spite of spears that might be thrown our way.

Today, however, we might have moved beyond what our own power can accomplish. We live in a world where we are often more controlled by circumstances than free will. I have a good friend with a Ph.D. who has been looking for a position for months, even years. I have a family member who is divorcing. I have several friends who, like my husband and me, are retired, on a fixed income, and are seeking creative ways to balance the budget each month. I have an acquaintance who just had a multiple heart bypass. While we certainly never seek these trials in our lives, it is possible to at least not be pinned to the wall--if we seek God's help. I Samuel 18: 14 tells us, "God was with him [David]" and allows David to escape the spear twice. In fact, the Scripture states that assurance two times just in case we did not hear it the first time. David, of course, went on to become King David who was loved and adored not only by his people but also described as a man "after God's own heart."

Gay Proud Loved

I was interested this morning in seeing regular viewers at the end of the morning ABC television show holding up signs with various and sundry messages. The one that caught my eye more than some of the others said, "Gay Proud Loved." I have been thinking about this particular topic due to a recent long spirited debate about the issue with a good friend. Her view is conservative; mine is liberal.

My friend, raised in a Biblically conservative church, kept using words in our conversation like "agenda," "abnormality," "aberration," and "dangerous to America." My words were "rights that every other citizen has," "desire to be loved and accepted in society," and "other interpretations of these New Testament passages." No amount of carefully worded arguments, however, could sway either of us to the other's position. We agreed to disagree on the subject as the old cliche goes.

While I would like to consider myself knowledgeable on the subject, I still (like all of us) have many questions. I just know that all in our society have the same goals: we want a reasonable amount of happiness, love, and respect from our family and peers. We want to be proud of who we are and who God has created us to be. We do not want to be judged by those who have set themselves up as experts of perceived sins of whatever type. Isn't that a sin in itself?

Dying for a Baby

I have found Sunday night particularly difficult to locate an interesting program on television to watch. Therefore, I ended up watching what I would normally consider a trash program, Snapped, on the Oxygen Channel last night. It concerned a stabbing that took place between two young women. One, Sarah Brody, was six days overdue in delivering her baby girl when another woman, supposedly with a similar name, contacted her ostensibly to return baby gifts delivered to her by mistake. In the process of meeting, the second woman pulled out a knife to stab Sarah. She had planned to evidently kill the mother, cut out the baby from the mother's stomach, and become a mother herself. In the scuffle, the woman was stabbed in the shoulder through an important artery and lost her life. She literally died for wanting a baby.

My question about this case centers more on the danger signs this young woman had exhibited for years around her family and friends. Evidently, since the age of 14, she had lied repeatedly about being pregnant. Every time no baby appeared, the woman--whose name was Katie--made up a story about having a miscarriage. When told of Katie's death, the family immediately asked about the status of her unborn child. Was there no one in Katie's life aware enough through the years to get mental counseling for her?

Again, my impression is that counseling might have come down to being able to afford it. We all know that, unless one is fairly well off, mental counseling is simply not available for the average person. At best, even with insurance, the payout is usually one-half of the cost. Without insurance, it can be prohibitive. Could mental health coverage also become a part of the presidential discussion during this election?

Falling Yet Again Through the Doughnut Hole

My husband was figuring our drug costs once again as I came in the door from a relaxing walk around our neighborhood. "What's the bad news?" I asked since he had already prepared me that once again we were falling through the doughnut hole for his final set of prescriptions for the calendar year. "$950," was his reply. If we had to pay completely out of pocket for his meds, we would pay $3800 per year. As it is, we have prescription drug coverage with Arkansas Blue Cross Blue Shield for him and pay $63.50 per month for it. In addition, we pay $300 every time he orders his three-month supply. Our total is now up to $1663 per year for routine meds, plus the extra $950 for the doughnut hole. In other words, we pay 69% of our drug costs, and the plan pays 31%. While we are glad to have some assistance on cost, the bill hits us hard right as Christmas is approaching. We ask ourselves frequently, "Would a universal health care plan, accompanied by higher taxes, of course, be good for America?" We believe it would be. We look forward to seeing how the presidential candidates can help the average American.

I think also of my friend who just visited us for a couple of nights. She was interviewing for either a research or teaching position here in Little Rock. Her Ph.D. is in plant sciences, yet she cannot afford to keep her health insurance since she has no job at the moment. Her last job search, especially difficult since her work depends on public and/or private funding for research, lasted three years. She has recently had several medical procedures for which she had to pay for completely out of her small savings. She is not a member of the under class; she has the highest educational degree possible plus years of postdoctoral work. Universal health insurance would be a Godsend for her--and many millions of others in our society.

Both of the above examples feature a family who carries health insurance and a single who cannot afford it. Is there no balm in Gilead?

The Raging River Between Us

As I was walking around the neighborhood on my usual morning walk, I heard an essay on NPR that reminded me of many marriages. The essayist was an Indian-American who spoke of his parents' arranged marriage some fifty years ago. Evidently, no people could have been more different--he was a civil engineer and she a creative dramatist. He had been working on bridges in a remote part of India for some months and had come into the city for marriage. The first night of the "honeymoon" the bride cried for hours but was comforted by her mother-in-law and assured that all would be fine in the future. It was. The husband and wife, though quite different in interests, began to build a life together. The bride joined her husband in his remote location. They were never apart until one extremely wet season when the husband could not return home for four days due to flooding water. They stood on each side of a bridge and shouted to one another with the raging river between them. It seems to me that this image is symbolic of most marriages. There always seems to be a raging river between us.

I am thinking of the state of marriages I guess because next week my husband and I will celebrate forty-three years together as husband and wife. We knew each other very well, unlike the Indian couple described above, since we had dated three years before we married. Even so, I think most husbands and wives will report that they never truly knew their spouses until they were married. The first years for us were the most difficult as we struggled to get college degrees, begin careers, have children, and become active in the community. Finances were difficult especially during the couple of years that I chose to be a full-time mother when the children were small. A raging river always seemed to be between us, creating a wall of tension within the household.

I am happy to report, however, that as the years went along the raging river ceased to be a torrent but became a gently flowing stream. Perhaps we just matured from the twenty-five year old and twenty-year-old mindsets with which we entered into marriage. Perhaps we learned to accept each other's differences more without trying to change one another. Perhaps we learned the real secret to a strong marriage--the more one gives to the other, the more we receive in return. Whatever the reason, we both look back through the years and can honestly say we are glad that we stayed with our commitment to each other.

A Tightly Wrapped Message

I have been concerned with several issues relating to Barrack Obama's presidential run for the White House lately. One, of course, is that he has now indicated he will not accept governmental money for his race, but will instead raise all the money he can privately through his immense network of donors. I simply find the amount of money the candidates have been spending already in the primary to be obscene, especially as we consider the needs of the country. The issue, however, that has bothered me the most in recent days is that of his preaching diversity and getting along but making sure that he is surrounded by no Muslims.

Two examples have gotten publicity. One concerns two Muslim women wearing headscarves who were not allowed to stand behind Obama during a speech. The other is that of Keith Ellison, a Muslim U. S. Representative from Minnesota, who was not allowed to participate in a campaign rally because it would cause controversy. An aid to Obama told Ellison, "We have a tightly wrapped message."

I ask myself, "Is it possible to say one believes in diversity and then carefully control the message about diversity by censoring certain groups of people?" Yes, I know image is all-important. McCain has been criticized for surrounding himself with old people, and Hillary has been criticized for surrounding herself with women and blue collar workers. Do we really devalue the intelligence of the American voters so little by believing they will be adversely impacted by a couple of Muslims around the candidate? I would like to hope it is not so. Let's unwrap that message a bit.

Mamas on the Field

Our daughter told us last week over the telephone that our three-year-old grandson had begun his soccer lessons. I tried to imagine this sight--Cole with his official soccer outfit on as a rather big boy for his age (thirty-nine inches in height and thirty-seven pounds in weight). He also still wears diapers and has a pacifier. Evidently, according to his mom, he did quite well kicking the ball and having a lot of fun with his fellow players. He liked it so much he wore his uniform all day. According to the rules of the lessons, the mamas are allowed to stay on the field for the first ten lessons and then must leave the field for the remaining ones. It seemed to me that this rule was rather symbolic of the upcoming independence of the children.

If I equate one soccer lesson to one year of a child's life, I believe it is about ten years of age that children begin to break their previously close bonds with their parents. Up until then the child has no trouble sitting in a parent's lap or submitting to frequent hugs and kisses. After age ten, parents tend to become somewhat of a burden to the child's independence. He or she does not want to be seen with a parent and will resort, as our son Chris did about this age, to lying on the floorboard of the car so as not to be seen with us.

I am filled with nostalgia as I think of all the days, hours, and even years that went by so quickly during the first ten years of our children's lives. We, like most families today, were so busy with full-time jobs, church activities, or after-school programs that we did not savor the moments of childhood when mothers could still be on the field. Since we symbolically left the field at age ten, we have found ourselves now in the position of adviser and supporter. We long for the old days of being on the field with our little ones.

Fixing Us

My friend Jo Anne and I went to see a documentary yesterday entitled Young at Heart. It is basically the story of a choral group made up of some very old folks. They give concerts both at home in the United States and abroad. What is different about this group is not only their age, but also the fact that they sing Rock songs like "Staying Alive," "Fix You," "Forever Young," "Schizophrenia," and "Yes We Can Can." This particular documentary was poignant due to the death of several of its key singers during and after the film was completed.

As I watched the film, I was especially moved when Fred, one of the singers, sang his rendition of Coldplay's "Fix You." The chorus, as many remember, basically says, "Lights will guide you home . . . And I will . . . fix you." Though the lyrics were likely written to suggest the support of an earthly love, I feel it also suggests a major characteristic of God. In eternity, I believe He looks at our brokenness while on this earth and His subsequent need to "fix" us. He is forever and always motivated by love.

The film reminds us that no matter how difficult our lives have been in the past, or may be in the future, one's art can transcend these earthly trials as we focus our eyes upon Him.

The Day We Are Born and the Day We Discover Why

Lieutenant General Russel Honore appeared on a talk show the other night and made a thought-provoking comment. Basically, he said that there are two very important days in each of our lives--the day we are born and the day we discover a reason for our existence. As a Christian, certainly I would add a third day--the day we come to know Jesus. Honore, as we remember, was the take-charge guy who went into New Orleans after hurricane Katrina, organized the people and the priorities, and essentially helped to shorten the chaos taking place within the city. It was at that time, he said, that he learned his purpose in life. Since then he has been traveling the country, giving motivational speeches, and urging citizens to prepare themselves in case of another national crisis. I have been thinking about my purpose since I saw his interview.

As we think about our legacies as we age, we tend to use the usual criteria to measure how well we have done in this life--producing children who grow up to be good citizens and caring individuals, producing a creative work that will live on after we are gone, asking ourselves if the work climate we were in during our careers was improved during the time we contributed to it, and again, as Christians, measuring our contribution to the lives of others.

Overall, I feel good about my life after a couple of years in retirement and reflection. I was privileged to give birth to a fine son and daughter who care about the lives of others and who are creative. Our daughter has just produced her first documentary, Testimony, and is currently at work on her second, Panhandler. Both of these pieces reflect real life issues from her life, i. e. the struggle she personally had to come out and her interest in the homeless (her grandfather was homeless all of his adult life). Though it is early, perhaps these films are the purpose for which she was born. Our son also is creative and caring. His strength from the beginning of his life has always been to be a friend to all, never picking and choosing who was worthy to be his friend but caring for all. He is a great writer and will likely nurture this aspect of his personality in future years.

As far as my creativity, I was privileged to produce two books three years ago that reflected not only my own spiritual journey through this life but also the journeys that my grandmother, mother, and daughter have undergone. While we sold a few hundred copies, it was not on Amazon's best seller list. Nevertheless, I feel it was my purpose in life to write my story to leave not only for my family after I am gone but for the people who read it and found it valuable. I have heard from many who told me it helped them in one way or another.

Our careers are likely the least satisfying of ways to measure our purpose but important anyway, especially if we chose a career that helps others, not the bottom line. I think of my niece Susie who has given her talent and time in recent years to help African-American boys succeed in school. She works in Ft. Worth at a place called Hope Farms. This summer she is making a trip to Zambia to help children there in an orphanage. I believe Susie is fulfilling her purpose.

For the final criterion, God only can determine whether we have achieved His purpose for our lives. We can hope only to look at those around us, listen sympathetically to their stories, and offer assurance that life does have purpose if we will look for it carefully.

Stand by Your Woman

Gender has become an important factor in today's presidential race along with race. I find it interesting that both Hillary's and Michelle's husbands have spoken out in the traditional way lately to protect their women--to stand by them if you will.

Michelle Obama has been on the campaign trail in behalf of her husband for months. She has come under attack as we know for her comments on being proud of America for the first time in her life. Barrack recently warned the media and others to "lay off Michelle." Hillary Clinton, of course, has been under attack continuously for her strong and tenacious campaign and her unwillingness to lay down the gauntlet and surrender the race. Bill has been a staunch defender of his wife and is now railing that she has been treated unfairly just for running. Both men seem to reflect an age that we thought we had passed--the need for women to have their spouses shelter and protect them. After all, they are both college educated, professional women who have successfully combined career, marriage, and motherhood for years without assistance.

Perhaps it is the men who need to "lay off" and let these terrific women speak for themselves.

The Forgotten Thirty

I was shocked yesterday to read a story in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette about a woman named Dianne who died recently after living fifty-eight years of her life in an iron lung. I had not actually realized, with today's modern medicine and ventilators, that any such people were still alive. It seems this woman had contracted polio when she was three years old, had gotten her education while being confined to her iron lung, and died when a power failure (plus a back-up generator failure) recently occurred. The newspaper reported that some thirty people were still using iron lungs.

Both my husband and I remember the days well in the 1950's when polio was the fear of every parent in America. The rumors were rampant about how polio might be contracted. Both of our mothers believed that not having us swim with a large number of other children was best. In addition, my mother believed in the value of at least a two-hour rest or nap each day as a preventative against tiredness. My mother-in-law also added some fear of eating bananas to her list of "no's" during this time. This fear was probably greater than the fear of the Russians and atomic annihilation. We all knew children who either died or, like Dianne, were confined to a wheelchair for life or an iron lung.

Evidently Dianne had published a children's book in her lifetime about a wishing star named Blinky. We can only hope that today Dianne is free from the physical confinement of her lifetime. We would like to think of her as a wishing star also.

Unintended Consequences

One of the continuing sad stories in the news today relates to the Chinese parents who lost their only sons or daughters in the recent earthquake. Of course, we all know of the Chinese policy set in place years ago to limit the population of the country by requiring its citizens to have one child only. Many of these parents of only children have doted on them and made tremendous sacrifices for their child to get a good education. The children have literally been "the apple of the parents' eyes" as well as the hope of grandparents as well. As with most Chinese families, the children's task was to take care of their aging parents later. Now, many families are experiencing multiple emotional losses. The government never counted on this unintended consequence in their one child policy.

Now it appears the government has issued a statement indicating that parents who lost their child (or whose child was disabled) in the earthquake are now free to have another baby. The statement strikes me as cold and calculating since we all know that a new baby cannot possibly replace the loss of an already living child. Many parents will likely be too old to be able to conceive again. The tragedy is great on so many levels.

Three Graces Dancing in the Moonlight

My husband and I have struggled three years now to sell a home in the small college town where I taught twenty-two years. We were, therefore, elated the middle of February to receive a verbal offer, followed by a formal one, for a sale. Unfortunately, the offer was contingent upon the prospective buyer's being able to sell his house near Fayetteville, Arkansas. After waiting three months, we were all beginning to lose hope when I got the big idea: we would trade houses. After all, he needed more space for his growing family, and we needed less. While we are still happy that we have moved in this direction, we have also struggled with the decision.

I lay awake in our empty home last week wondering if we had made another mistake; it seems that we have made a series of bad decisions since 2004. We should be debt free at this time of our lives, yet--due to the decisions of our own making as well as the housing market failures--we still owe a lot of money for houses. Is this what we call "dark grace" I wondered. It's the type of grace that we struggle with as God teaches us His will and lessons that we could not otherwise learn. As someone has joked recently, it is always darkest before the true night comes. As the apostle Paul reminded us in the Scripture, we see through a glass darkly in this life. We grope around as lost as possible many times seeking the light only to find more shadows.

As I paced about the house in the middle of the night, I noticed the nearly-full moon shining through the shadows of the trees. I believed God was giving me some of His "prevenient grace." It has been defined the grace that precedes real grace.

I then felt a transcendent sense of His peace. His true love had arrived as the three graces danced in the moonlight of my mind.

The Art of Negotiation

Our three-year-old grandson, Cole, who lives in Seattle has already learned the art of negotiation. Whenever his mother tells him "no" to a particular request, his reply is "Let's talk about it."

We are hearing a lot in the news the past few days about the conflict between McCain and Obama regarding whether to negotiate freely with Islamic terrorist groups or not. I guess I am, once again, in the middle on this argument. On the one hand, I have hated the elitist attitude of the Bush administration for the past seven years. The word "no" has been used strongly and repeatedly as diplomacy, negotiation, and talk have been suggested. It has been bluntly stated by Bush many times in recent years.

On the other hand, I have just completed a non-fiction book entitled The Siege of Mecca by Yaroslav Trofimov which has reminded me of the centuries of enmity between the Islamic culture and Western culture--and even the enmity among the different religious elements of society. I, like thousands of others who would like to have peace, debate the question of talking to those who oppose our presence in the Middle East so strongly. Could anything be accomplished through such a process? I tend to belief it could cause no harm.

One cannot fail to see the irony, however, of the Bush administration's recent visits to the Middle East with now a completely open attitude toward forming a Palestinian state. Is he really that interested in appeasing the Palestinians, or is he simply looking toward his own legacy should that goal be accomplished under his watch?

The art of negotiation is obviously a very difficult process. A resounding "no" rarely accomplishes a goal, yet a "Let's talk about it" attitude can often lead to unwise concessions. Even three-year-old children know that.

"Stand and Deliver" or "Sit Down and Shut Up"

I liked a column that I read last week in the newspaper suggesting that if the President could be appointed to the position, Hillary Clinton, hands down, would make the best President of the three remaining candidates. I tend to agree and am one of the many still in America today to believe she should remain in the race. Having been through the many controversies and discussions in the early 1970's, and following, regarding the role of women, I do not take well to the voices, predominantly white male ones, who are calling for Hillary to "sit down and shut up." I ask those who are doing this to respond to this question, "Why are you so afraid for the race to play out until June 3 and perhaps beyond?" If allowed this chance, I believe that Hillary still has the opportunity to "stand and deliver." Why should the voices we as women have worked so hard to achieve the past thirty-five years be squelched? What harm is done in allowing the race to continue?

It appears the most liberal wing of the Democratic party is petrified that Barrack Obama will make a fatal mistake within the next two weeks and Hillary will win the nomination. If we truly believe that debate on the issues is positive and democratic by its very nature, the process must continue. The media and other talking Democratic heads have already crowned Obama the nominee, even Times magazine. Were Obama to stumble and fall and Hillary win the nomination, many of the political gurus like Richardson, Kennedy, and Edwards will perhaps regret their decision to support Obama. Let's let the people decide, not the media and other political leaders.

The Caucasian Card

I guess New York Times' columnist Maureen Dowd was the first to use the term "the Caucasian card" when referring to Bill Clinton's role in this year's presidential race. One cannot escape the ironies connected to the accusation that Bill has introduced race into the contest.

It was just a few years back when Bill was having his two heart surgeries that people were looking ahead to his possible funeral and discussing the massive outpouring of love from the African-American community at his death. After all, he was an enigma as far as traditional Southern politicians have gone through the years. He actively supported civil rights and appointed many African-Americans to important offices. After completing his presidency, he chose Harlem for the location of his office much to the delight of many African-Americans. Why has he suddenly become anathema to his former ardent supporters?

Some would say the monolithic falling away of African-American support began with Bill's use of the words "fairy tale" in discussing Obama's candidacy. Later, he was to remind the press and voters that Jesse Jackson had won in South Carolina in previous elections because he was black. He later spoke of the fact that the Obama campaign always planned to use the race card in the election process. In other words, he began to play the victim for the first time instead of the victor.

Clinton's introduction of the Caucasian card has unfortunately contributed to a nearly monolithic defection of African-Americans to Obama. It could very well be that these voters actually believe Obama is the best of the three candidates; it could be that they are simply proud of what he has been able to do thus far against two Caucasian candidates. Regardless of their motivation to vote almost unilaterally for Obama, it is sad to see Clinton's legacy with the African-American community dissipate. When the New Orleans type band follows his casket, way into the distant future playing "When the Saints Go Marching In," we hope Bill will have somehow recovered the trust and reverence of African-Americans who felt betrayed by the Caucasian card in the 2008 election.

God of the Gaps

I was watching a video yesterday in our spiritual formation class, regarding the intersection of faith and science, when an unfamiliar phrase was used. The speaker talked of "God of the gaps," a saying evidently used to indicate that, whenever science cannot explain a particular natural phenomenon, the explanation must be God or a higher power. As scientific theories continue to abound in 2008, the effect is simply to reduce the presence of God more and more in our lives. As a Christian I could not disagree more with this theory and prefer instead to see God, or Christ, as "standing in the gap."

The latter phrase has been used in the Christian community within the past few years to indicate that God is our intercessor for us as we undergo the various trials of our lives. In this context, He becomes our refuge, our strength, our hope. He is not being reduced to nothingness; on the contrary, He is being magnified.

Our Scripture reading in church yesterday, for example, centered on the stoning of Stephen, an early Christian disciple, in the New Testament. As he looks up, he see Christ standing at the right hand of the Father. This verse to me has always been confirmation of Christ as intercessor in our lives. Yes, He was not going miraculously to save Stephen from this horrible death, but He was there to comfort Stephen and to remind him that his own resurrection was very near.

Many believe, and even hope, that God will disappear as a force in modern society since religion is often viewed as a superstition or set of beliefs that only the uninformed and uneducated could believe. As long as there are still mysteries to explain, however, God will remain a powerful force and belief of the faithful.

In the Days of Guns and God

It has been almost a week now that the media became obsessed with Obama's words at a San Francisco fundraiser. Obama indicated that economic problems have made blue collar workers bitter and that, as a result, they tend to cling to their guns and religion. Both McCain and Clinton have responded by calling Obama's words "elitist" and "out of touch." I tend to think, after living with two blue collar parents for years, that Obama has simply spoken the truth, albeit not very tactfully.

Like Obama, I was raised by a single mother after my father left the family early on to roam the country. He worked spasmodically up and down the Mississippi River as a deck hand, and she worked two shifts as a waitress, sometimes seven days a week, to make ends meet for my sister and me. Though our mother never took food stamps through the years, as Obama's mother did, we had to be very careful with the tip money she brought home each night for groceries and other bills. Like Obama, both my sister and I were able to study hard and to get college degrees with the help of student loans and grants. While we have moved up in our socio-economic class, we both still share somewhat of an understanding of the culture that we are no longer a part of.

My observation teaches me that typically people still in the under class do feel comfortable with their guns and their religion. It almost seems to be a choice that is made. Here in Little Rock guns have always been a way of life, especially for the protection of one's house and belongings. As in any city, crime is high here in the state's capitol. The alternative is to turn to religion as a way of understanding that suffering is a part of life, but that justice and riches will come in the afterlife for the faithful. Social talk often centers on the illegal immigrants coming into the area daily and the loss of jobs to Mexico and other developing countries.

In today's political climate, one cannot simply say aloud what is true without a microphone or camera being present to record it. Yes, Obama should have been aware of this inevitability, but it is a shame that he cannot speak truth without fear of censure.

Dirt Cakes and Recession

When I was a child living in Greenville, Mississippi, I did not have many toys with which to play. A little girlfriend who lived in the small apartment next to us and I used to play for hours in the mud from spring rains. We pretended we were cooking mud pies. Of course, we would not have thought about ever eating them. I was appalled, therefore, last week on NBC Nightly News to see a report from Haiti featuring the dirt cakes that the people were eating due to the high cost of food. According to the reporter, the cakes are made from water, salt, butter, and dirt. One young man said he ate twenty-five per day in order to live. That night on Bill Moyers' Journal, the subject again was food shortages. This time the location was here in America with the statistics that some twenty-seven million people are now on food stamps assistance. Many others go regularly to food banks to enable them to at least eat carbohydrates.

As my sister and I often compare notes on our childhood, we have both come to the conclusion that there was a food shortage in our home in our early years. Today both of us tend to eat all that we have on our plates as if it might be our last meal and often to take food away with us in our purses as if to protect ourselves against future hunger. We do not know exactly where this behavior came from.

One of the African-American men from Alabama interviewed on the Journal said something like, "Aw heck, everybody talks about a recession; we are always in a recession." He said that he feels bad when he cannot provide enough food for his family to eat. I think about dirt cakes in Haiti and recession in America and so much long for a solution to hunger. After all, adequate food is one of the basic needs of our lives in addition to shelter and clothes.

I certainly am not advocating any type of socialism as a panacea to the world's hunger problems, but I have been thinking a bit this morning about Alice Trillin's (wife of author Calvin Trillin) view of life. "She believed in the principle of enoughness," according to an article in The New Yorker. Simply stated, she belived that, after a certain income level reached, the government should take the rest. The problem though is, "When will we get to the belief that we have enough to share with the world's hungry?"

The Audacity of Forgiveness

I noticed the phenomenon again last Friday as I was watching CNN's "The Situation Room." John McCain was speaking on a rainy day (the day commemorating the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. some forty years ago) to a primarily African-American audience in front of the motel where the killing took place. McCain was apologizing for not voting in the Senate some years ago to establish the Martin Luther King day. The audience members were calling out loudly, "We forgive you" and "Everybody makes mistakes." I have seen that audacity of forgiveness before many times, most recently after the Clinton-Lewinsky sexual encounters. What is it, I ask myself, that allows the majority, it seems to me, of African-Americans to be so forgiving when they have been so wronged?

I asked an African-American pastor from Ft. Smith, Arkansas, about that recently. I do not remember receiving any type of satisfactory answer at that time, but I would like to explore the question myself. Perhaps one reason is that, after years of disrespect from the Anglo community, the listeners simply appreciate apologies that seem straight from the heart. Another possibility is they are able to forgive the sins that they themselves have made: sexual indiscretions or mistakes in judgment. Contrast that to the Anglo community who overwhelmingly refuse to admit sin until the evidence of their guilt is clear. Perhaps they are closer followers of Jesus' words about forgiveness than we Anglos are. Even the purest man on earth asked forgiveness on the cross for those who had hurt him the most in life.

Though I cannot explain this phenomenon, I admire this audacity of forgiveness trait very much and long for it more in my life.

A Form of Spiritual Hospitality

This past Thursday my husband and I went downtown to hear NPR's commentator Diane Rehm who was in Arkansas for a brief presentation. Her subject was one that reflects her example each day on her nationally syndicated radio show: listening carefully to the arguments and narratives of others even though there might be some disagreement. She reminded the audience that, just as the slogan "Reading is Fundamental" was popular for a number of years, another good slogan might be "Listening is Fundamental." She said, "Listening is a form of spiritual hospitality." Unfortunately, I have always been someone who, to paraphrase Shakespeare's words about Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, will say more in a minute than I will listen to in a month. Diane reminded me though of the importance of listening.

I think part of the problem is that Southern women have generally been raised to be young Scarlets who are continually flirting with their Ashleys and telling stories to entertain others. When not telling their own stories, they are interrupting another story teller with rather superfluous questions and comments such as, "Did you say she had on hot pink shoes? I wonder where she bought them around here." We have always believed talking is the virtue, not listening.

Diane, of course, interviews a number of authors each week on her show as well as a number of politicians and representatives of the media. These guests typically have opposing viewpoints. The only way that progress toward compromise can be made is to listen to the other's positions with respect. What typically happens, however, in our day-to-day discourse is that we surround ourselves with people just like us, and we reinforce our views, not change them. If we can remind ourselves that listening can be a form of spiritual hospitality, perhaps--just then--we can truly begin to have a conversation.

A Moratorium on the Death Penalty

Last night I attended for the first time a discussion on the death penalty at one of the favorite Little Rock restaurants, Lily's Dim Sum Then Some. I have always loved the idea of somehow using food therapy to compensate for the serious nature of the topics under discussion. After hearing the invited speaker give a pitch for fundraising in order to lobby for a moratorium on the death penalty, one of my friends (who is an attorney defending people on trial for heinous crimes) made a point about Northwest Arkansas. He said that area of our state needs to be commended because it currently has no death penalty cases on the docket. I wonder if the answer is truly that simple--that the attorneys there are more sympathetic to the issue or more capable in their defense--or if another more sinister fact is at work, namely that, until about ten years ago, Northwest Arkansas was almost entirely Anglo.

I know that many studies have been conducted throughout the years to show the preponderance of men of color on death row. Does that fact relate only to issues of economic poverty, or does it relate more to our continuing racial prejudices? Having lived in Northwest Arkansas for some thirty-four years, I know that the overall culture tends to be quite conservative. Yes, the city of Fayetteville is the exception since it houses a major state university. However, even it though is surrounded by a host of very conservative churches that tend to preach the virtues of capital punishment and support their argument with a variety of Old Testament verses for proof that God has ordained it.

I think about this subject as I remember that my father was killed in 1976 by some unknown person coming into the bar in which he sat to shoot him three times in the abdomen. Had that perpetrator been apprehended, I would not have supported the death penalty. I simply believe life imprisonment without parole is more than sufficient for punishment. I also worry about the number of cases that have been reviewed by law students or attorneys in recent years that have shown the innocence of many death row criminals either before execution or after. Most importantly, I still worry that our deeply-grained prejudices from the past condemn others simply because of their race.

In Defense of Barack's Choice

It has been a couple of weeks now since the pastorgate scandal has broken relating to Barack Obama's choice to stay in his church. The controversy arises, of course, in light of the numerous videos showing the Rev. Jeremiah Wright preaching a number of what could best be described as hate sermons against the white race and against America in general. At first I was quite outraged by Barack's refusal to stay within the church for twenty years. But then . . . I remembered my own similar history.

Many of my pastor's sermons began to be uncomfortable to me in the early 1970's when I was a young wife and mother. Our pastor often preached that the majority of the world's economic problems were caused by women entering the work force. The rhetoric continued through the latter part of the decade as well, but now the pastor (and other leaders in the conservative Christian movement) were now railing against abortion. Having been educated in a public university during the late 1960's, I believed women's rights were just as important as those for men. The final straw--almost--came for me in 1991 when our daughter confided in us that she was a lesbian. By then the new emphasis from the pulpit was, essentially, to preach hate sermons against homosexuals. Then, and now, many would say the usual mantra, "We love the sinner but hate the sin," however, untrue that statement was.

Why then did it take me years and years to leave the church that had been a vital part of my past? I would have to say it was for sentimental reasons: it was the church that fed my family the Christmas I was three when my father was absent, it was the church where I was baptized at the age of nine, it was the church where I met my husband, it was the church that gave me a special white Bible ceremony when I was engaged, it was the church in which I was married, and it was the church in which both my children were baptized. All of the central events of my life were connected to the church.

While I cannot condone Barack's choice to stay in his Chicago church, I can at least understand why he doesn't want to leave it.

Who Can Find a Virtuous Man (or Woman)?

The media have flooded us within the past couple of weeks with all kinds of news regarding extramarital affairs of politicians. It was a mere few days ago that Eliot Spitzer, Governor of New York, was caught in a prostitution ring where he had a woman transported across state lines into Washington, D.C. for sexual purposes. After Spitzer's resignation under a cloud, the Governor resigned only to be replaced by David Paterson who also quickly announced both he and his wife had been involved in several affairs themselves. For weeks now, we have been following the story of the Detroit Mayor whose text messages revealed an affair between him and a former chief of staff, yet both denied it under oath. Now word arrives that Dina McGreevey, wife of the former Governor of New Jersey, is allegedly accused of participating in a three way with her husband and another man. My question is, "Are there no faithful men and women anymore?"

Perhaps I am just old and out of step with the younger generation, but I was brought up to believe that marriage vows are important and a commitment is made at the time of the wedding for life. Of course, being the product of parents who divorced early in my life (one of the key reasons also included adultery on my father's part), I am aware that circumstances sometimes demand a break in that commitment. Real life reflects that around fifty per cent of couples divorce, but I am not sure if any statistics are available to indicate how many couples cheated on one another. I feel confident, however, that the number is very high.

Is there anything we can do as a society to teach our young people going into matrimony of the importance of sexual fidelity? As I glance around, I do not see a trend necessarily involving youth or lack of education; the trend toward infidelity cuts across all class levels. I am perplexed and bewildered and long for a solution to this unsettling trend of society.

Afraid of the Light

I have been puzzled recently by essentially the same statement from two men who were legally blind. The first is from the newly inaugurated Governor of New York, David Paterson, and the second is from a television segment featuring someone who had surgery so that he could see again. Both said, "It is not the dark that scares me but the light." At first glance, the statement seems counter-intuitive to common sense, but then perhaps, upon a closer examination, it is not.

I am thinking specifically of today's political environment. All of the Presidential candidates have pledged to the public to be open and honest. Clinton has just released her schedule while serving the country as First Lady (with her tax return to follow soon); Obama has made a speech on the need for open, frank debate on the subject of race; and McCain has continued to call himself the "straight talking man," in spite of some evidence to the contrary, most notably his failure to admit that conversation in 2000 with John Kerry about being Vice President and his most recent cover up when he mixed up the Shia with the Suna. Of course, he said, he knew the difference between the two groups after eight trips to Iraq in spite of the fact Joe Lieberman had to correct him three times in his various statements.

With the rabid obsession of our twenty-four cable networks to top each other for ratings, every bit of minutiae is pored over and analyzed repeatedly. Perhaps it would be better to be kept in the dark about some small issues; the light can indeed be blinding and annoying to the brain of the average voter.

The Weeping Women

Several of the most vivid descriptions relating to the cross of Christ concern the women who followed Him. The book of Mark, according to scholars written first of the four gospels, continually stresses the theme of abandonment of Jesus when the "going got tough." Even his most beloved disciples Peter and John were hardly to be seen as the Roman empire, with the cooperation of the Jewish officials of the day, arrested and crucified Christ. The faithful ones, according to Scripture, were the women. Yes, in the gospel of John, the author indicates, though he does not name the disciple, that John himself was there. Remember though that John had an agenda to show himself as one of the faithful ones. Why is it that the women could stand at the foot of the cross weeping and not be afraid as the male disciples were for their very lives?

One of the interpretations of the death of Christ, in addition to Christ as sacrifice for those who believe in Him, is that Jesus came to earth in order to say "no" to the domination systems of the day. These systems were economic, religious, and political. Through His death, and resurrection three days later, Jesus won the victory. Women, of course, did not have any of the powers associated with those of men. They were essentially "under the radar" as far as representing a threat to Roman rule.

Of course, women have traditionally been considered to be the emotional ones of the two sexes. Somehow it was all right for Mary Madgalene, Mary, the mother of James and Joses, and perhaps two other Marys--wife of Clopas and Jesus' own mother--to lament and mourn publicly. The lesson is that the women were the faithful ones through the cruxification and into the Sunday morning of resurrection. It is also they who arrived at the empty tomb first to discover that Jesus had risen.

The strength of women should never be underestimated when a crisis arises. The weeping women were the rocks upon which the church was built then--and still are to a large extent-- some two thousand years later.

That Familiar Old Sun

Last week I was reading the book of Ecclesiastes and noticed how the author-teacher of the verses seems to be almost disenchanted with the idea of the seasons. For him the regularity of them year after year is depressing as he ponders his place within the world and whether or not he has made a difference. For me, however, I see the seasons--especially at this time of year--as uplifting and confirming. It is wonderful to know always that spring is sure to follow winter in our lives. Metaphorically, there is no greater promise in life.

I am thinking of just two examples in our lives. The first is the long winter represented by our old house that we have been trying to sell for almost three years now. After being on the market for two six month periods and being rented for a year and one-half, we have received an offer on it. The offer came not from the diligent work of a realtor but from a remembered conversation of the past. We are cautiously optimistic but realize, with the market down from 30 to 40 per cent in this area, there is still summer to enter into likely before the offer closes.

A second example, of course, is that of our lives in general. As we age and as our lives move toward the finality that lies ahead of us, we begin to think more and more of the idea of resurrection. As with Jesus, whose death and resurrection we commemorate this Easter week, we are confident as Christians that an emerging eternal spring will follow winter.

Therefore, I would have to disagree with Solomon, seen by most biblical scholars as the author of the book of Ecclesiastes: the seasons bring us hope, joy, grace, and mercy in their regularity.