The Tragedy of Hannah Grace

She was a beautiful New Year's Day baby born in 2008. Her parents named her Hannah Grace, reflecting both a biblical name and God's love. In December of this year, Hannah Grace and her father were found dead in a burned out truck along a road in Sweet Home, Arkansas. What had happened to this child between her birth and her almost two short years of life?

As the investigation into these homicides begins, the back story of Hannah Grace begins sadly to emerge. Evidently, she was placed in protective custody a while back because Hannah's mother allegedly burned her with a cigarette. Pictures from her time in a foster parents' home reveal a seemingly happy, beautiful, and smiling child. Unfortunately, a new social worker was assigned to the case. Hannah was placed back into custody with her father.

Who knows the circumstances that Hannah had to deal with on an everyday basis? What should have been a carefree, happy time for her--playing with her dolls, stuffed animals, and toys could, and probably was, a nightmare. Before she even got a voice, her voice was snuffed out in flames. We can only hope that her death was quick since authorities are not releasing the exact cause of death yet.

Unfortunately, more and more of our nation's children are being abused, neglected, and killed every day. In 2010 on New Year's Day, there will be no birthday celebration for Hannah Grace. What a tragedy . . . .

A Christmas Poem

The most famous poem of all times regarding the Wise Men is that of T. S. Elliot's "The Journey of the Magi." Its beauty and hidden meanings are unsurpassed in my opinion. Yet this year I feel I must offer my interpretation also of this key event. I believe that all of us are on a similar journey in life. We start life in the East symbolically with our births and travel toward the West as our lives progress. We seek the answers constantly to life's big cosmic questions, "Why are we here? What is our purpose?" For those of us who are Christians, we realize the answers were there all along: at the crib of Christ:

A Prophet, A Star, and A Person

Trudging wearily through the snow during winter solstice,
The men keep their arms wrapped tightly, close to their bodies,
Under their woolen garments, clutching their gifts,
And asking themselves often, “Could the prophet’s words be true?”

Embarking from the East, and many miles from the warm comfort of home,
They are following a dream, a dream to discover the Messiah.
Prophet Amos, hundreds of years ago, had pledged, “For out of you (Judah) shall come a ruler Who will shepherd My people Israel.”

Guiding them faithfully, the star moves ever so steadily before them,
Twinkling silently at long last over a young Child in the little town of Bethlehem.
Rejoicing with exceedingly great joy, they enter the house to see the Child with Mary, his Mother.

Falling down before the Person in the tiny crib, they worship Him,
Opening their pouches to reveal gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
Departing soon thereafter from Bethlehem, they return home a different Way, giving King Herod no chance to harm the newborn Savior.

Following the same path as the Magi, we followers today at Christmas
Trudge slowly through the circumstances of our lives seeking also
A Word, A Sign, and A Savior.
As we move into His presence at this sacred season,
We humble ourselves, fall at His feet, and worship Him.
We present Him the gifts of ourselves: time, treasure, and talent.

Modern Day Jobs

The continuing problem of a jobless economic recovery in America is plaguing us. One of the differences between this recession and several others that I have lived through in my sixty-five years is that many of the unemployed have done everything right in their lives up to this point. In the past many being counted in the job lines were not educated beyond high school. As I matured, however, I was virtually assured as I rose from my underclass background that a good education would be a panacea of protection from unemployment. Today that assurance has failed us.

Just as Job in the Old Testament had done nothing wrong and yet a series of catastrophes befell him, many in the U. S. are also reporting similar problems. A few examples will suffice from my family. Our daughter, who had worked tirelessly for ten years for Microsoft with a master's degree from the University of Southern California was downsized in March of this year, our niece who has a bachelor's degree from Wichita State University in Psychology was downsized, and my brother-in-law who had worked for Boeing Aircraft Company for over twenty years was downsized a few years before retirement. The list goes on and on.

Downsizing obviously has a top down effect because house payments can no longer be made, houses generally cannot be sold due to the flood of them on the market already, and foreclosures seem imminent. Yes, unemployment does put food on the table and keeps the new rental apartments heated, but it cannot be stretched enough to buy health insurance at spiraling rates and clothes for growing children.

We as Americans are caught up in a downward cycle. Where are the thinkers who can provide answers for us? We need jobs, and we need to develop an economy not based primarily on consumer spending. It is not our choice as families to be modern day jobs.

The Advent--Of Secularism and Skepticism

My husband and I drove through a monsoon of rain yesterday morning in order to attend the first Christmas program ever for the lower school at Episcopal Collegiate School where our grandchildren attend. We settled into our seats, anxiously awaiting the appearance of our kindergartner who in past programs as a preschooler would sometimes look anxious or perhaps not sing with his classmates. This year his confidence had grown, and he marched onto the stage smiling while dressed as one of the cattle surrounding Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus. His granddad and I were proud. Our granddaughter, on the other hand, has always been vivacious and out-going, trying out for any possible part, always yearning we think for the part of Mary but never receiving it. In this program, since she was in the oldest grade represented--fifth, she had several speaking roles as narrator and as an angel. Again, we were proud.

I think back, however, to a recent class I attended at church to celebrate the beginning of the Advent season. I was looking forward to hearing the story of Christ's coming and subsequent birth from an adult point of view. After all, isn't this why we attend church? We want to be reminded why we are believers. In the lesson the story of Mary's annunciation was treated as pure myth and legend with statements like, "Fairy dust was sprinkled, and poof, you're pregnant." The idea of the census during the time of King Herod, the arrival of the wise men, and all elements of the traditional story were systematically debunked.

Yes, I know that theologians who are liberal disagree over the historical evidence of Christ's birth, and even the idea that baby Jesus was the Christ child from the time of His birth. Some prefer to believe that God adopted Jesus at the point of his baptism when the dove flew into the sky. Conservative theologians believe in the birth of Jesus as written since they believe the Bible must be read as a literal and historical text. Since I come from years of teaching in a conservative church, I cannot surrender my belief in the latter interpretation. I believe one can find ample evidence from the scholars to support a literal interpretation if they leave their skepticism at the door of the stable.

Yes, the Enlightenment did much to persuade the educated of the day that religion was simply for the masses who were not capable of seeing, touching, and knowing the truth. Logic overtook belief with questions raised like, "Now, did you ever know anyone who was impregnated by a spirit?" As for me though, I--like Virginia--still choose to believe in tradition and truth as written in our authority, the Bible.

Saving Big Mike and Precious

I waited anxiously for two new films to reach Little Rock this past week: The Blind Side and Precious. Both did not disappoint. Though the Sandra Bullock movie was a bit flashier, both contained similar stories of two young people, Big Mike and Precious, who struggled to be successful in life. Both were the product of violent absentee fathers, single mothers in poverty, and ghetto influences with the temptation to do nothing. Yet both of these young people are successful by the end of the movies. What has made the difference for them but not for hundreds, or thousands, of others?

Once again the answer seems rooted in having an adult role model, or savior if you will, to care about these high risk students. In the Sandra Bullock film, Leigh Anne Touhy is the Anglo mother who takes the almost eighteen year old, Big Mike, into her upper class home. She becomes his legal guardian, pays for tutoring, and loves him unconditionally. The same happens for Precious who is a student in an alternative school in New York. Her teacher does this for her as well. By the conclusion of the movies, the viewer is hopeful that these students will be successful.

One of the articles in Newsweek regarding the film Precious lamented the fact that, for the one who might be saved from circumstances such as Precious and Big Mike found themselves in, many more were not saved. That should not be an excuse, however, in my opinion for failing to save just one if possible.

In the Absence of Power and Light

On Wednesday morning my Christian book club has been reading and discussing Barbara Brown Taylor's book An Altar in the World. One of the chapters I have been thinking about this week focuses on a personal time in Taylor's life where she and her husband lived several days in their rural home without power and light due to an ice storm. Many of us have had this experience through the years, but her spiritual insight is interesting.

Since we equate Christianity (even Christ Himself) with the idea of power and light, she raised the question as to what happens when we are without them. For her, she realized that the absence of power and light for a few days caused her to move from being self-centered to other-centered. She had an epiphany that she had to be even more responsible for not only herself but also her animals, in this case, dogs, cats, and horses. She found herself breaking up the ice which formed in their water several times a day, keeping them extra warm with kerosene heaters, and making sure they were dry and well fed. How could this analogy apply to current day church theology?

Many believe, and have described it in their books, that we are living now in a post-Christian world. To them, the old theology of the past seems to be failing the average believer. Some even question the inerrant nature of the Bible and its historical record. They see the Bible's authority eroding in our modern age. They suggest that, in the absence of traditional power and light, we replace old views of the past with community and fellowship of believers instead. After all, isn't that what happened after Jesus' Resurrection. When He was no longer able to be with them physically, and before Pentecost, the disciples had to form small groups and develop closeness to keep the ideas of Christ's teaching alive.

I have found it difficult as a conservative believer for the majority of my life not to believe in the divine Truth of Scripture. Yes, I have modified my belief somewhat and moved away from a very literal interpretation of the Word to a more metaphorical and symbolic interpretation. Even with these changes, I cannot move into the idea that we fallible humans can provide the authority once held through the Bible. We are simply too human to do so. If we begin to place our faith in fellowship, we are sure to be disappointed.

The Latest In Out Group

One of the most interesting topics I have heard recently centers on the plight of the homeless. As we Americans know, we are quite involved in protecting the rights of minorities in our country. After all, it's in our genes as immigrants removed by several generations ourselves. My own heritage is Scotch-Irish and goes back to the eighteenth century when my ancestors came over from the Old Country in order to make a better life for themselves in the rural South. As a group we were largely uneducated, but yet hard workers with an optimistic belief that life could be good by applying a diligent work ethic to the tasks ahead.

A review of our Southern history for the past one hundred or so years reveals first the freedom of the slaves, followed by the vote and equal rights for women, followed by civil rights legislation, and followed by laws protecting gays. The new in out group now appears to be those who are homeless since hate crimes against this group have evidently proliferated in recent years.

A recent NPR program discussed this subject in detail. I also attended a political discussion group this past Monday night in which homeless needs of both adults and children were presented. The problem is certainly not a new one (we remember that Jesus spoke about it some two thousand years ago by saying, "For you have the poor with you always" - Matthew 26:11). The emphasis today, I believe, comes from an epiphany many of us have had in the most recent recession. Because the financial and job losses have impacted all classes of society, I believe we are now developing more of a sense that homelessness can possibly be one paycheck away from all of us. My short experience in working with the poor and homeless as a volunteer is that they often defy the stereotypes we have placed upon them in the past, i. e. they are drug addicts, alcoholics, mentally challenged, and so on. Many today are well dressed and embarrassed to be in a position of dire need.

I applaud the idea that the homeless will now be an area for focus in our society. They deserve all the assistance we can provide of our time, our money, and our talents to enable them to move back into mainstream society. In America it's only right.

We Are Extensions

As I was listening Sunday afternoon to Dr. Cornel West, a guest on the Tavis Smiley show on NPR, I became interested in his comments about the primary influences on his life. People who have read my memoirs, The Skagway Connection and Four Women One Century have often asked me this question, "Since your early life was so chaotic, how did you turn out to be a decent person? After all, you too might have turned to alcohol, drugs (since you came of age in the '60's was the implication), or a crazy life yourself." I have always known the answer to that question, but Dr. West's comment solidified my belief. He reminded us listeners that we are basically extensions of the people in our lives who have invested their lives in us and have loved us.

In my life, I would choose the three influences easily: my mother (thought imperfect as most mothers are), my grandmother (who took me into her home when she was 63), and my sister (who is older by four years and has always been there). I frequently think of the first few verses of 2nd Timothy in the New Testament where the apostle Paul is remembering and giving thanks also for Timothy's mother and grandmother who became the early examples for the young man on how to live.

As recipients of time and love, I believe we also have an obligation to pass that influence on to the young ones around us now. That includes grandchildren primarily who are often in non-traditional families these days--being products of divorce, single parents, gay parents, or so on. It also includes at-risk children especially in cities like Little Rock who could also benefit from tutoring, volunteer time, or just friendship. As as we are a result of those who have invested time and love in us, we must pass the tradition on to the next generation of young people as well.

Justice for Some but Certainly Not All

Since I was a victim of a child pedophile, who escaped any punishment for his crimes with other children and me, I have no sympathy for any of those charged in current cases. Yesterday we learned of the capture of one of those monsters who had raped, slit the throat (cutting into her windpipe), and thrown his eight year old victim into an ant hill to die. She lived, set up a Website, and worked tirelessly to bring justice for herself and courage for others to come forward to do the same. DNA evidence will convict the pedophile.

On the Today Show this morning, we see the first pictures of another victim--the twenty-nine year old Jaycee Dugard on the cover of People magazine. As an eleven year old, she was kidnapped, raped, forced to live eighteen years in tents, and made to bear two children by the pedophile. She will testify against him soon.

On the other hand, we hear that direct Roman Polanski is now very depressed as he sits in his jail cell in Switzerland awaiting word of his extradition to California for the pedophilia he committed with a thirteen year old girl some thirty years ago. She was given drugs and alcohol, and then sodomized. Yet Hollywood A listers have stood proudly on steps and spoken loudly on talk shows to demand lenience for him. The only excuse they can offer is that he has made good movies since the rape.

Will we ever be able to give justice to all instead of just those who cannot afford a fleet of high-powered attorneys? I would hope that we could apply the law equally for all. Otherwise, our justice system becomes a travesty for the protection of children.

The Effect of Brokenness

Today was a good day for reflecting upon some of the deeper issues of life. I stepped outside for my usual morning walk and felt the slight mist falling upon my hair and rain jacket. The October fog had once again enveloped the mountains which lay behind our house. The air was cool with my favorite NPR station reporting the temperature as sixty degrees. I always think about Seattle weather, where our daughter lives, on days like this. The story on the radio was an interview with former Senator Max Cleland who is a decorated war hero. In his new memoir he quotes a famous line from Ernest Hemingway, "The world breaks everyone and afterward many are stronger at the broken places."

I have especially been thinking about some of my friends' health issues this week. Yes, we are all older now, and I know we should expect to be bombarded with health issues at this time of our lives. A rash of new diagnoses, however, within the past few months has once again brought before me the issue of life, brokenness, and healing. One friend was diagnosed a year ago with terminal breast cancer and now struggles to walk since the disease is affecting her bones, one is dealing with just being told he is HIV positive, one is having surgery this morning for a malignant melanoma, and one is trying to hang on in her house, with her beloved cats, in spite of a very obvious problem with her memory.

How should we then live with the brokenness of our bodies and our minds? The Old Testament addresses the problem of old age most poignantly in Ecclesiastes 12, " . . . the strong men bow down; / When the grinders cease because they are few, /And those that look through the windows grow dim . . . ." God gives us an answer at the beginning of the chapter, "Remember now your Creator." Our brokenness--whether it be through the infirmities of aging, the families which have scarred us, or the trauma of war as with Max Cleland--remind us that our strength and very being come from God. Even as we are broken physically, we can become stronger in our broken places by depending upon His grace.

Of Mice and Women

My mind has been overwhelmed lately by the continuing violence against women. After completing part four of Roberto Bolano's 2666, which chronicles the senseless murders of hundreds of young women in the town of Santa Theresa in Mexico, I am numb. Here in the United States, the media has focused within the past week on the murder of Yale student, Annie Le, who ironically was killed on the week in which she was to be married. The police have now arrested Ray Clark III, a lab person who cleans cages of the mice Annie and others work with for medical experimentation.

Today the discussion rests on the motives which would lead to this horrific event. On one side, we hear the police describe it as "workplace violence." They indicate perhaps there was an argument between the two individuals about the cleanliness of the cages. Women who are interviewed, however, tend to believe the murder is clearly related to the idea of anger, power, and violence against women. I tend to believe the latter theory as well.

In my personal life, I have witnessed and been a victim of violence against women both as a child and as an adult. In other writings I have documented my sexual abuse as a child. In the past year I have witnessed bullying and threatened violence against a friend of mine. I am always at a loss to explain the continuing violence. Is it simply that men are physically stronger for the most part and know they can win in a struggle? Are we failing to teach our young boys respect for girls as they grow into manhood? Are these men emasculated somehow in the workplace by competition with other men or women? Are we simply failing to teach ethics and morality any longer?

I have no answers, but like most all Americans today will continue to read and seek answers on how to win in this continuing war against women worldwide.

Armstrong's Case

This week's Newsweek contains an interesting article by Lisa Miller that basically reviews Karen Armstrong's nineteenth book entitled The Case for God. In the article there were two points that made me think about my past beliefs and my current ones. The first point Armstrong makes is that believers in the three major religions--Jewish, Christian, and Muslim-- are all capable of reading the Bible symbolically, rather than literally. If one does so, he or she is likely to realize there are multiple interpretations of the Word. The second point is that the Bible does not present just one revelation only in the far distant past but rather continuing revelations. I would like to consider these two points carefully since they are the reverse of my previous theological teaching.

The church in which I was a member for over fifty years always taught the one should interpret the Scriptures absolutely literally. The snake was a real one in Genesis, the donkey actually spoke in the Old Testament, and the whale actually swallowed a fellow named Jonah. As I grew older, however, and became an English major, I realized there were numerous verses in the Bible which we cannot take literally but symbolically. There are many, but a few examples will make the point: "I tell you that if these should keep silent, the stones would immediately cry out" (Luke 19:40); " . . . hide me under the shadow of thy wings" (Psalm 17:8); and "I saw a beast rising up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, . . ." (Revelation 13:1).

On the second point, likewise, I have been taught in the past there there was one revelation only and that the time for revelation ended with the completion of the Biblical Word. Yet, we realize that the Muslims base their religion on revelations from the prophet Mohammad and the Mormons base their faith on the prophet Joseph Smith.

Does God evolve His Word in a dynamic creative way today? If we believe in the power of the Holy Spirit to teach Truth to us, I have come to believe the Word is ever changing in its ability to speak to us in different ways. I do not believe, like our American Constitution, that it is a static document--but it is one that is constantly in motion to teach us new Truths daily.

Joining the Good Old Boys Club

The door to the historic house on Broadway opened on a beautiful fall-like evening in Little Rock. The host greeted us and commented on my husband's and my matching tie-died shirts. We were there for a celebration of our friend Matilda's 60th birthday. There was also recognition by the theme of the party of Woodstock. The beaded hairbands around my graying, but blond-highlighted hair, were tightening around my temples. I immediately pulled out of my purse a copy of the 1969-1970 yearbook from the University of Mississippi and showed a gathering group around me my husband's and my yearbook pictures. One of the group commented on my big hair back then, but the host immediately pointed out the paucity of women on the page. I looked again and then counted; I was one of eight women students on the page surrounded by thirty-seven men.

This year 2009 represents, as we all know, the 40th anniversary of both Woodstock and the landing on the moon. Therefore, all of us have been reflecting upon the momentous events going on in the late '60's like the assassination of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr. combined with the Viet Nam War. I guess it is for this reason that many of us women are also reflecting, many years later, upon our status both culturally and professionally.

Statistics tell us that in 1969 women in graduate school represented just 41 percent of the student population. By 1999 the percentage had grown to 57 percent (a 178 percentage increase). In 1969, I had hardly awakened yet to the women's movement, but I now know that the late 1960's ushered in the feminist movement that would reach a crescendo by the middle of the next decade. At that time I, of course, had no idea of the great challenges that lay ahead of me as I sought to enroll in a doctoral program at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville only to be told I would likely do better to work for an Educational Specialist degree instead. I held my ground before "the deciders" (all male) and was admitted and was graduated five years later, doctoral degree in hand. I spent twenty-two years of my working career in a university in Northwest Arkansas (it was mostly very conservative regarding the role of women since most of the faculty were men and had wives who were homemakers). I became, however, the first woman Registrar and later the first woman chair of the English department.

Now that I have been retired for three years, I look back at those years and, even though quite difficult at times to navigate in a man's world, I am proud that I was one of the many women who were also joining the good old boys clubs throughout America.

Mourning Edition

Just a few days after Ted Kennedy's death last week, NPR and other media outlets were already talking about his replacement in the U. S. Senate. Obviously, Kennedy's death came at a most inopportune time since August represented the final push for the Democrats to hold town meetings to promote health care reform. His death means that the Senate will not have the sixty votes needed to push through the health care agenda that Kennedy was promoting for most of his life.

Many of those interviewed about Kennedy's position indicated that decorum demanded at least a week was needed before one seriously broached the subject of his successor. Some were already urging that Kennedy's wife Vicki be chosen, certainly following a common precedent from the past. Some could not wait even a week, however, and have already indicated an interest in the position. Today on NPR we hear that Attorney General Martha Coakley is announcing her candidacy even if a Kennedy decides to run at a later date. My question is, "Doesn't Senator Kennedy deserve some respect in death without stepping all over each other in a bid to be elected to his position?" The mourning edition, or tradition, has hardly been honored. I am saddened by that.

End of Life Issues

One of the best books I have read recently is the popular novel The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society co-written by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. The setting takes place in the Channel Islands located between England and France just after World War II has ended. The residents had to live under German occupancy during the final months of the war, and their lives were in constant jeopardy if any of the rules of the enemy were broken. At one point in the novel, one of the key characters, Elizabeth, speaks of Matthew Arnold's poem Empodecles of Etna. The lines remind all of us of the importance of living life fully each day, "Is it so small a thing, To have enjoyed the sun, / To have lived light in the Spring, / To have thought, to have done; / To have advanced true friends, . . . ."

Many of us who are in our sixties and enjoying the retirement we have worked all our lives for have been bombarded in recent weeks with a lot of scare tactics relating to end of life issues. We hear that Medicare will be rationed, waits to see doctors will be lengthy, and perhaps nursing home care will be eliminated with the proposed Medicaid cuts. I guess at this point I am ambivalent on some of the issues. For example, my father-in-law is now ninety-two and living in an assisted living facility in Wichita. During the past twenty-five years, he has probably had just about every medical procedure that a human being can endure--all in an effort to extend his life forever. While I know doctors are committed to extending life, I wonder if we extend it far too long at times, especially when I think of my friend Connie who died of a brain tumor at age fifty. Upon diagnosis, the doctor gave her six months to live with no treatment; she died in five months after enduring massive radiation treatments. I ask myself, "Would her final months have been better with no radical treatment?"

As far as myself, I have already indicated to my family that I want no extended end of life treatments when a diagnosis comes that says my time on earth is ending. I hope to die with dignity, reflecting upon the wonderful memories of this life. As Arnold reminded us in his poem, I have enjoyed many wonderful vacations, I have raised my family in the spring of my life, I have considered many issues thoughtfully, I have worked over forty years, and I have dearly loved both family and friends. But . . . I don't want to cling to this life since, as a believer, I look forward to a future life.

Life Jacket Metaphors

One of the minor characters in Roberto Bolano's 2666, Barry Seaman, is giving a speech when he begins to talk of writing techniques. He says to his audience, "Metaphors are our way of losing ourselves in semblances or treading water in a sea of seeming. In that sense a metaphor is like a life jacket." He goes on to remind the listeners that some metaphors float while others sink to the bottom like lead. In that one passage, Bolano has illustrated both an original metaphor that is effective and one that is a cliche.

In my years of teaching writing to students, whether fiction or non-fiction, I have found it difficult to move students away from their love of cliches. In fact I made my point so strongly and so frequently through the years that I was known as "the teacher who hates cliches." Imagine my gratification, however, when the late poet Gwendolyn Brooks visited our university and said to students in a question and answer session, "Eliminate cliches, and you will have a publishable piece of work."

Of course, one danger is that an original metaphor of the time, for example Homer's description of "a rosy-fingered dawn," can become a cliche itself after centuries of overuse. I am sure also that Bobby Burns' simile of his love being like "a red red rose" was beautiful and effective in its day, but not after two hundred years and many declarations of such a love within greeting cards on Valentine's Day. For a writer, finding an effective metaphor or simile is a difficult task.

Metaphors and similes are used to bring concreteness to an abstract idea like love or to a scene like a sunrise when the usual words seem incapable of expressing the emotion one needs. They are indeed life jackets for one's writing. Let's make sure we use them effectively.

Coincidence and Fate

Our book club is currently reading Roberto Bolano's novel 2666. It has been praised by critics for its complexity and its themes. One of the more interesting characters is a painter by the name of Johns who expresses his views on the role of coincidence and fate in one's life. He says, "Coincidence, if you'll permit me the simile, is like the manifestation of God at every moment on our planet. A senseless God making senseless gestures at his senseless creatures." He sees coincidence at being representative of total freedom and the complete opposite of fate. I beg to disagree.

As a Christian I have always been taught that there is no such thing as coincidence, that God has a plan for each of our lives that He carries out. That belief, however, does not mean we humans are without free will to make our own choices. From the beginning of the Hebrew Bible, we read of Adam and Eve's choice to eat of the forbidden fruit in spite of God's command to do otherwise.

As I reflect upon seeming coincidences in my own life, I am convinced that God is preparing us all the time for events to follow in our lives. For example, when Judy, my sister, moved to a small town in Mississippi in the 1970's, by "coincidence" she met our half-brother's wife at the local swimming pool. She developed a friendship with her and was able to meet our half-brothers. Up until this time, we knew that our father had twin sons by his first wife, but we had never met them. When our father was killed in a homicide a few months later, we were able to plan the funeral together.

Another example of God's preparation of us to handle later events is that I participated in a RAIN team (Regional Aids Interfaith Network) for ten years in Northwest Arkansas as a caregiver. When I moved to Little Rock, I assumed that work was ended. At a small group meeting recently, one of our members confided in us that he had just been diagnosed with AIDS. I believe I was able to respond in a positive way, using my life experiences with my former care partners, to give him hope for the future.

Yes, many can, and do, believe in the postmodern idea of a senseless God making senseless gestures to a senseless people, but I choose of my own volition to believe simultaneously in free will, purpose, and plan for each of our lives.

The Holiness of Small Things

The dog days of summer are here in Little Rock again. It's August 10. I open the door of my house and walk out into another interminable, sultry, humid Southern day. I trudge down the street to the northern path that is so familiar to me after three years of living in the neighborhood. On the left and right I hear the familiar sounds of early morning--the katydids, crickets, and tree frogs still serenading in the foot-high weeds along the easements, and in addition I hear the cars and trucks roar by toward work. From the sound of the souped-up engines, I imagine that teenagers throughout the neighborhood are buzzing quickly to their fast food or lawn mowing jobs. The schools are set to re-open in another week.

The announcer on my favorite NPR station indicates it is seventy-nine degrees and is talking about the survival of journalism. Simply stated, journalism as a career must move beyond simply saving money and cutting costs but must, of necessary, reinvent itself in order to survive. An English crime novelist had just been interviewed in a previous story who spoke of going down to the Thames only to see the ugly side by side with the beautiful--a drowned bloated carcass of a dog to the left and a graceful white heron to the right.

As I get to the halfway point of my morning walk, I turn and head back for another mile and one-half to my house. It is here that my face feels a gently blowing breeze coming from the South. I look up at the horizon to see a two-thirds waning moon in the light of the morning, slowing sinking out of sight to the West. I remember a line I have just read from yet another of Jan Karon's books in her Mitford series, A New Song, "the ineffable holiness of small things." At my age, I do not long for the things of the past--a newer car, a bigger house, a remodeled kitchen, and so on. I simply want to enjoy the little blessings of life daily, juxtaposing the annoyances of hot weather with the knowledge that cool breezes will blow again in another month or so.

Bubba's Back

Since I live in Little Rock, it is not uncommon to see a familiar bumper sticker on many cars throughout the city. It simply reads, "I miss Bill." It needs no other explanation since former President Bill Clinton still has many fans throughout the state and country. Many of us know him only from some distance, as President of our country for eight years. Some of us know him a bit better since he was also Governor of Arkansas for two terms as well. I remember meeting him in 1984 when he came to the small Christian school where I taught to be the graduation speaker. While standing in the foyer of the auditorium, I took his hand as I was introduced to him by my friend and colleague, Deborah, who had been responsible for booking this engagement. He looked directly into my eyes as if I were the other person in the world. I immediately sensed that charisma that I had heard so much about in the past. I can only begin to imagine the intense emotion the two journalists in North Korea also felt yesterday when a door opened, and they saw President Clinton. They immediately perceived he had come to be their savior.

Of course, those on the right, like John Bolton, have already been quite critical, saying the visit simply gives North Korea what it has been seeking for years, a gigantic propaganda tool. I disagree. We have tried using a heavy hand with North Korea for years, ignoring its flinging of missiles wherever and its threats of nuclear proliferation. What does it hurt for our former President to publicly sit with North Korea's dictator for a few pictures and have a dinner with a dying man? I am on the side of those who sincerely hope the event can lead to a better understanding between North Korea and America in the future.

In any event, "Bubba's Back." I hope to see new bumper stickers proclaiming that message. I hope that he will continue to use whatever influence he has to promote understanding and peace within the world.

Existing With Us

My husband is a big fan of the Mash episodes from the past. He tends to watch a couple of these programs each day. I consider the series more a man's interest than a woman's, but--as I was waiting for the local news--one of the endings last week caught my attention. The chaplain was presenting a sermon before one of the important hierarchical members of the church. He haltingly said something like, "God created us so that He could exist with us." I have read the idea before in various spiritual books, but I began thinking more about the truth of the idea. I went back to the book of Genesis and re-read the creation story a couple of times. We know that God has emotions because we as humans have them, and we are created in His image. Also, the Old Testament and the New Testament indicate that He has the emotions of love, anger, and so on depending upon what humans are up to at any given point. I am always surprised, however, to think of God's greatness contrasted to our puny juvenile behaviors and to realize that God actually wants to exist with us. He wants to pursue a relationship with us and be our Friend.

Traditional teaching within the evangelical church says that God has always co-existed with Jesus and the Holy Spirit. It is the Holy Spirit, we believe as Christians, that lives within us to give us gentle reminders that we need to emulate Christ through caring for those who are the weakest in society, reminding us of the need for confession when we hurt others or ourselves, and sharing the Word of God with others who might not be believers. We do not hear that much in our churches, however, about God's creating us for fellowship with Him.

It stands to reason that, if God perceived that the first man was lonely and should not be alone, that He Himself also had that emotional need for love, friends, and respect. Reason tells us we should give Him that honor every day through our praise and worship. We fail so often though to include Him even in our thoughts. I have developed a new respect for the truths presented in Mash.

Clicking Those Red Heels Together Again

It was the day before July 3, late Friday afternoon when political bombshells tend to go undetected into the night, that Sarah Palin came out into the front yard of her home to announce her resignation as governor of Alaska. We have seen her many times in her red jacket and her red high heels, and it has become her signature look. Once more, she clicked her heels together and repeated, like Dorothy, "there's no place like home." This is not the first time.

When she was a member of the Oil and Gas Conservation Commission, she decided she could not make the reforms she needed and resigned her position in protest of her colleagues' actions. That move gave her an opportunity to present her platform and run for Governor of state.

Much analysis has been given by the media over the past ten days as to the motives behind Palin's move. She has been called "crazy like a fox" by commentator Bill Kristol who thinks her resignation could perhaps be a smart political move. Most commentators though have simply called her "crazy" and speak of her rambling, almost incoherent, statement as proof of her unworthiness to move forward politically.

For the past year, I have wanted to give Sarah Palin a chance. I have closed my eyes to the disastrous interview with Katie Couric, the "ya know" speech patterns, and the lack of knowledge about world events. What I cannot forgive, however, is a conservative woman who simply quits. Perhaps it is because of my rearing (as Churchill said, "never give in") that I refuse to forgive this move. As a more liberal woman in a conservative environment during my working career, I learned early on that we women must be able to withstand the opposition both from men-- -and other women, who can be even worse enemies. Yes, our frienemies can be as destructive as our true opponents.

If we women are honest, we all wish we could click our heels and return home again--without the stress of dealing with difficult problems, without hearing our families criticized, and without insinuations about our ethics. We simply cannot be leaders and changemakers, however, without the will to persevere.

Nagivating a Frozen River

I just watched the film Frozen River with Melissa Leo in her academy award nominated role. Her role portrayed with poignancy the dilemma facing many families in America today--poverty and the ethics connected with being able to provide for one's family. Ray, Leo's character, is the mother of two boys and living with a runaway husband, who takes with him the little money they had saved for a double-wide mobile home. The home represents her dream to have a three bedroom place of her home. Unfortunately, she makes a series of bad decisions relating to illegal immigration in order to get money for the final balloon payment. As a professional person, I would like to say that I have never needed to consider what I might do in such an instance. I would like to say that is true, but it is not.

Since my mother was a single working mom, I had seen her struggle through the years financially. Many times as a child I got up in the morning to see the tips on the kitchen table--rarely a dollar among them--couched in a sea of small change: quarters, dimes, nickles, and even pennies. These tips were basically our source of daily income. To my knowledge, my mother was always honest in her life with the use of her money. I do remember, however, that she did take gifts from her boyfriends through the years--groceries, Christmas presents for my sister and me, dancing lessons for a short time for me, and so on.

My husband and I chose to work in non-profit institutions for the majority of our working careers, and we knew that making ends meet would sometimes be a challenge. One Christmas when we were the most cash poor, I remember driving around in Fayetteville two days before the holiday and considering pawning my wedding set in order to provide gifts for the children. I eventually wrote a hot check for what I wanted to buy in a small shopping center. Since the check was for over $100, I figured I would be turned down once a call was made to the bank. It happened though that the clerk was one of my former students who simply put the check into the drawer without that call. I guess he at least saw me as a person who would never violate his trust. I knew that my husband's check would be in the bank the day after the holiday, and it would be covered.

For mothers and dads in the U. S. today, it is a particularly difficult time since the "greatest recession since the Depression" continues to plague our economy. Blue collar and white collar crime rates are increasing on a daily basis. We do not have any assurance from the government that the recession will end soon. I pray daily for these mothers and fathers who need jobs and ways to support their children. They need somehow to be able to nagivate the frozen economic river engulfing them.

Remembering Past Help

One of the books I have been reading lately is Kathryn Stockett's The Help. Stockett is a native of Mississippi, and her novel features the relationships among several Southern white and black women. Aibileen and Minny are the "help" in white households in 1962. Skeeter and Celia are the white women who awaken to the idea of a shared humanity. The novel has made me also reflect upon the only time my husband and I employed "help" in the 1960's.

It was 1969, and our daughter was four months old. We hired Lura to be Kimberly's nanny and to do light housework while I did my student teaching in a town about forty miles to the west of us. I have to confess that my life was quite full with all the responsibilities that go along with being a wife, mother, student, and budding teacher. It never occurred to me to develop any kind of relationship with the "help" or even to know anything at all about her personal life. I now see that period as being a lost time; Lura--I am sure--had many thoughts about the racial strife and the civil rights movement that were currently rocking the state.

I never bothered to ask Lura's point of view, and I am not sure she would have opened up if I had. The majority of blacks knew that speaking up about racial issues could put one in danger of being considered "uppity." Even though America has always been the place for personal freedom, the South still limited free speech and action in regard to black-white relationships at this time of our history. I regret that I did not try, however, to see Lura's point of view. The "help" might have helped me to understand more.

A Boy on a Boat in the Universe

One of the books I have enjoyed reading recently is Joseph O'Neill's Netherland. Essentially, it is the story of the strange friendship between two men from different cultures in New York. The novel tells its story through a series of flashbacks. At one point, the narrator speaks of a time in his boyhood when he was taken fishing by his uncles. As night descended, he remembered being in a boat and looking up at the heavens to see myriads and myriads of stars, giving him the feeling that he was merely "a boy on a boat in the universe." Who among us has not also shared that same experience at various times in our lives, yet the experience always raises questions about our identity and our purpose.

Unbelievers would say that we are merely pawns in some large, yet to be understood universe. Since we are such tiny parts of it, we cannot possibly believe in a personal God who actually cares about us and our needs.

Evangelical Christians, however, believe the Bible when it tells us that we are "fearfully and wonderfully made" (Psalm 139: 14) in His image. The following passage tells us that He knew us and loved us from the very beginning of our creation: "Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, The days fashioned for me." Evangelicals believe that God has a wonderful and special plan for each of our lives.

Like most thinkers in the universe, the story I choose to believe is the latter. My rationale is simple: if God can create a universe as vast as the one in which we are all a part, why can He not also design us to be people with which he can personally communicate, protect, and shelter? Perhaps the idea can best be represented by Manet's painting of The Grand Canal, Venice in which the boatman almost blends into the background of the buildings behind, yet his presence still guides the path of the boat through the water.

Softly and Tenderly

I have been thinking about conflict resolution this week after seeing an interview with Rosie O'Donnell on television recently. When asked by the interviewer to reflect upon her recent very public spats with Donald Trump and co-host on The View, Elisabeth Hasselbeck, she basically said she had learned that shouting never accomplishes anything since people don't listen. The best way to convey one's point, she said, was to speak softly and to use reason in an argument. For Rosie, that was quite a bit of self insight and growth I believe. I wish now that others could gain the same self-awareness.

Growing up with a mother who was a shouter, I can also testify that her style of communication was truly ineffective. I simply turned off and often retreated into a closet to hide for a few hours until peace in the house was restored. It is easy for one generation to lead another generation into the same forms of behavior. I have learned, unfortunately late in my life, that I could simply speak softly and tenderly in order to make my point. I am trying to convince my grandchildren, ages six and ten, that the cycle of shouting at one another can also be broken.

It almost seems this week that even the Republicans are beginning to also understand this lesson. After a lot of initial shouting about the nomination of Hispanic Sonia Sotomayor for the position of Supreme Court Justice, they are beginning to tone down their arguments and speak in reaonable voices. They have now discovered, after initially jumping to several wrong conclusions since they did not read her record, that she might indeed be a friend on the abortion issue since she is a Catholic.

Loud voices reflect immaturity; a soft answer can indeed turn away wrath.

Death of a Princess

I remember Ciera as a beautiful young girl with dark hair and dark eyes. Her family background had been a bit rough. At the time I met her she was seven years old, and her single mother had planned to marry a young friend of our family. From the very beginning of her life it seems, she had a dream--to grow up and meet Prince Charming, have children, and have a happy life. She frequently participated in beauty contests as a young girl with all the frills in dress, makeup, and behavior on the runway that is expected. Her dream ended last week when, at the age of twenty, her boyfriend broke down the bedroom door of the place they shared and shot her two times. She was nine months pregnant with a baby boy. The father then turned the gun on himself and committed suicide. It was another reminder to me that fairy tales rarely come true.

Once more I find myself conflicted about the freely available guns that we have access to in America. We all know that relationships can be volatile, and I have never been quite convinced that having guns for protection outweighs the possibility of gun violence within the home from arguments, from accidents related to cleaning, from children finding guns within the home, and so on. I think, of course, that we need to keep the conversation going regarding gun control issues.

Our family will likely never know the full story behind Ciera's death. We know that she argued a lot with the people who were close to her. We don't know if she felt she had really found her Prince Charming, or if she was just anxious to make her dream seem to come true. We don't know how her boyfriend felt about becoming a father while still unmarried. Unfortunately, we do know that murder-suicides are much more common than we would hope.

Tomorrow we will attend Ciera's funeral. Our thoughts and prayers will be with her extended family. We hear that she will be buried with her child in her arms. Will we ever be able to stop violence to women who somehow transgress a man's expectations?

Slip-Sliding Morality in the Great Recession

I have been thinking about dishonest people lately now that the great recession we are in continues. Several incidents have brought about an evaluation of our morals during difficult financial times. One of my friends recently attended a conference and noticed that on her last day someone had added a few extra dollars for a tip to her breakfast ticket. I had the same experience the next week, but here an extra $25 had been added for an initial $25 tab. Most people who might contemplate cheating a bit probably would not have increased the tip to 100%, I would think, if they hoped to avoid notice. The most interesting incident I have heard within the last few days centers on the New Zealand man who requested overdraft protection for $10,000. The bank evidently made a mistake and added an extra three zeroes to the amount requested. The man and his girlfriend now seem to have absconded with the ten million dollars to parts unknown.

My question is: Have we always been willing to cheat, or are we being unduly tempted by the recession we find ourselves in? I tend to think it is the latter.

Between the Trees

I recently watched a video of Rob Bell entitled "Trees." Rob Bell is the pastor of Mars Hill Bible Church in Grandville, Michigan, and has a unique way of presenting his sermons. He always uses a strong analogy to draw attention to his message. In this video he speaks of the tree in the Garden of Eden that is called "the tree of the knowledge of good and evil." We remember that God instructed the earliest man and woman not to eat of the tree. We know, however, that God's command was ignored, and sin entered into the world at that point. Bell also speaks of the tree of life described in Revelation 22, the final chapter of the Bible. It is described in the Word as one "which bore twelve fruits, each tree yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations." It is at the end of time when the original curse of God will be removed. Bell's point of the video is to remind us as Christians that we have a lot of living to do in between the two trees.

To give us help throughout the Bible, God also uses trees as analogies for the way we need to live. One of the most interesting uses of the analogy has always been the plant which grew overnight over Jonah's head (chapter 4, verse 6-10) yet withered by the next morning. It is a symbol of the transience of life and the brevity of time to do God's will. Another key example of trees, which illustrates how we are to live our lives, is found in John 15. In this chapter, Christ compares Himself to being a vine while his followers are the branches that are to bear fruit. As in the book of Jonah, He reminds us that, if we do not produce fruit, we too will wither and be cast into the fire and burned.

As I think about these analogies, I know that God is giving us a recipe of Truth for our lives. Yes, the afterlife is important, but perhaps the more important aspect of our purpose here on earth is to do what we can to improve the lives of others. Jonah was insistent that the people of Ninevah be killed, not given a chance for forgiveness and repentance. Christ says we are to be aware of those around us who live lives of "quiet desperation." Today we have many who struggle with day-to-day decisions on how to live through this great recession that we find ourselves in. As His followers, we simply must invest, through our volunteer efforts, in the lives of others. Living well between the trees is essential.

From Jerusalem to Gaza

I have been thinking about the renewed violence in the Middle East over the past few weeks. These violent episodes have been taking place in not only Iraq but also in Pakistan, Afghanistan, and as always--between Israel and Palestine. We hear from the conservative media that Muslims simply desire to fight a jihad against Western Culture and religion. We hear from the liberal media that diplomacy is the better choice in hoping for a permanent peace. From a Christian perspective, does the Bible offer any advice for peace?

One, of course, could legitimately argue that the Bible contains many examples where the God of the Old Testament orders war and promises to protect the Jewish people in their quest for land. In the New Testament, Christ brings a new order and commands us to love our neighbor as heartily as we love our God.

Perhaps we can find a bit of an answer in the book of Acts, Chapter 8, when Philip is visited by an angel and told, "Arise and go toward the south along the road which goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza." Then, in a parenthetical comment, we discover the words, "This is desert." In other words, Philip is ordered to leave the comfort of the city in which he has been residing and preaching and go into the wilderness. He has no idea why until he meets an authoritative representative of the Queen of Ethiopia. Even though the man was just returning from Jerusalem himself, he still had no idea how to interpret the Scripture he was reading. It was not until Philip explained it to him that he understood.

While diplomacy in the Middle East is a very large gamble on the part of the Obama administration, I believe it might offer the best hope for peace in the area--and correspondingly--in the world. Treating each other with respect may actually work; nothing else has up to this point.

In Defense of Faith

Our book club is currently reading Susan Jacoby's The Age of American Unreason. Her basic premise is that high culture and education have been deteriorating rapidly in recent years. According to Jacoby, politicians refer to citizens of America as "folks," and our students are woefully lacking in the basic skills for life. As a teacher for thirty-five years at both the secondary and university levels, I must agree with her as I have also noted these changes. A key point, however, where I disagree centers on the importance of religion to our society. Jacoby basically believes that faith is an enemy to reason and that those who believe in religion simply have succumbed to "superstitious nonsense." I would like to present a brief rebuttal.

For Christians, the basic authority of our faith has always been the Bible. This belief in the Bible as Truth is basic to both conservative and mainstream, or liberal, denominations. Certainly, the conservative groups believe in the inerrancy and literal nature of the Word. The more liberal groups, however, believe the Word contains all the Truth we need for daily life but do not necessarily believe that every word is true. They see, for example, the story of Adam and Eve, and many others in the Old Testament, as being metaphorical.

If we can agree then that the Bible still remains the authority of Christians, we must look to it for the definition of faith. It is found in Hebrews 11, verse 1, which says, "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Ironically, the verse uses language also employed in the sciences: substance and evidence. The very nature, however, of faith is that believers depend upon personal experiences and anecdotes as evidence of their faith. Miracles exist for these Christians because they know they have experienced them. Faith can never be subjected to the same empirical evidence that science demands, but it is no less real to the believer.

A speaker last week on National Public Radio was discussing his work in Africa with AIDS patients and made the comment that religion provides "beauty, peace, and spiritual transcendence." Millions of us disagree with Jacoby's view of faith and know that it is not simply "superstitious nonsense." It provides Christians with all the fruits promised in the Word: love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Hypocrisy When Ideology and Reality Collide

I am a hypocrite; I admit it. It is just that I have trouble when my ideology collides with my reality. It happened several months ago when I admitted in my blog that I support gun control laws until my own loved ones are threatened in some way. I then do a 180 degree reversal. I am doing it again after listening for the past week or so to both sides of the American torture controversy. And again, my position involves putting my family in a hypothetical situation.

On the one hand, I agree with John McCain and others that torture rarely ever leads to any real and viable information. On the other, however, as I watched a television discussion on the subject last week, one of the e-mails that came in asked a rather startling question. It was, "If your child could be freed from possible death at the hands of terrorists, would you support torture?" In my mind, I immediately responded, "Yes!"

I wish I wasn't so wishy-washy and could take political positions and stand by them. I remind myself of a good friend who recently stated, "I believe whatever the last thing I read." One aspect that I do take pride in is that I listen to both sides of an argument. Since I taught argumentative writing at the college level, I know the value of giving some weight to opposing viewpoints. I am afraid, however, that my emotions tend to take precedence over my intellectual side too often.

Disappearing Southern Women

As I listened to Rick Bragg's presentation last week at the Arkansas Literary Festival, he gave a quote by William Faulkner that I have not heard before then. It basically went like this: "Women disappear from Southern towns like beads off a broken strand of pearls." The quote was startling and immediately made me analyze the reasons why this statement could possibly be true. By the next morning at the Literary Festival, as I attended South Carolina writer Dorothy Allison's question and answer session, I realized I had known the answer all along.

As for me, I left my home state of Mississippi the week after I graduated from high school. It was a planned move a long while in coming since I had made the decision at age fifteen. My family, unlike that of Dorothy Allison, did not include numerous cousins and siblings who were subject to drug addiction, early deaths from reckless driving, accidental drownings, and early pregnancies. I had a sister only, and my mother had been an only child. The element that does bind me to Allison's story is that we were both victims of sexual abuse at an early age, by a stepfather for her and a step great grandfather for me. One of my new friends recently told me her abuser was a surrogate uncle.

As children we are, of course, helpless to change our situations because someone has to take care of us in our early years. We become our own advocates, however, as we approach the magical age of eighteen and the possibility of our independence at last. The road for Allison, for Bragg (who suffered much in the hands of an alcoholic father), for me, and for many other Southerners can be a torturous one as we move from the dysfunction of our families to mental and emotional recovery. We cannot do this by staying in the South.

We simply feel we must leave the scene of the crimes committed against us in order to heal. Often, ironically, we choose--after a number of years away--to return to our home states. Perhaps through our writing and speaking of childhood horrors others might be saved from such a fate. We can only hope that to be true.

The New Authority

My Wednesday book study group has been reading Phyllis Tickle's new book The Great Emergence. Her thesis is basically that every five hundred years in the history of religion a great cataclysmic change of some type occurs. She asserts that we are now in such a time period.

For example, she goes back in time to five hundred years before now and points out the beginning of the Reformation as the Protestants broke away from the authority of the Catholic Church. The new authority at that time became "Scripture and Scripture only." Five hundred years before the Reformation there occurred the Great Schism between the Eastern church and the Western church. Before that, five hundred years approximately, the Dark Ages ushered in a long period of monastic tradition. When we return to the years 70-130 of the common era, we find the beginnings of the Christian church and its break with traditional Judaism.

On the one hand, as we review this church history, change seems inevitable and evolving. On the other hand, we might be fearful of whatever changes might lie ahead for us. Tickle's point about these "great emergence" periods, however, is that they are always divided into two parts that become stronger than ever before. We need only to look at the growth and proliferation of Protestant churches as one proof.

The new authority of the 21st century, Tickle suggests, is going to be an emergent "beloved community" where all work together as the early New Testament church did to provide for the needs of all its members. She argues that the Bible will no longer be valid as the authority since numerous scholarly articles and books have been written recently to suggest the somewhat arbitrary nature in which the Bible was assembled. In addition, the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls have challenged traditional beliefs. The Bible may no longer have the inerrant content and infallibility that Protestants once believed.

I personally have believed in the Bible's Truth as authority for too many years to support this new theory though I am open to seeing how a new community of believers might work. As a relatively new Episcopalian, I value already both tradition and Scripture, but I am now open more to using experience and rationality as an additional test of faith.

Sustaining the Weary with a Word

In church the other Sunday, one of the key verses we heard read was from the book of Isaiah, chapter 50, verse 4: "The Lord God has given Me / The tongue of the learned, / That I should know how to speak / A word in season to him who is weary." Almost from the very beginning of my life, I have longed to become a teacher. Since I was raised in poverty, it seemed a goal that was quite distant from the reality of my daily life. I always instinctively believed, however, that education would be a key to the escape for which I longed.

I married at age twenty after working as a secretary for a couple of years in Wichita. During the time I was working in an office full-time each day, I also attended night classes at Wichita State University to pursue my goal slowly of teaching English at the high school level. Since my husband also wanted to pursue a professional career, we decided to get loans (it was the early 60's and money was freely available through government loans from the National Defense Education Act). I began my first teaching position as an adjunct at Delta State University in Cleveland, Mississippi, and then went on to add another thirty-four years to my teaching career before I retired in 2006. I sometimes wonder about the worth of my work though. Teaching is not easily measurable. Today, especially, it is a great challenge.

Much research has been devoted to analyzing the nature of today's student who has been reared watching television, playing video games, seeing movies, searching computers for information and for social networking, watching DVD's, and so on. We teachers have taken many short term workshops to learn how to become "guides on the side" rather than "sages on the stage." We have learned that today's students simply cannot endure too much content and must learn more through cooperative groups and case studies. For myself, I have also believed that students struggle with a variety of personal struggles that need our attention as teachers. As the verse in Isaiah says, I believe we are to sustain the weary with a word. We are there to be counselors as well as teachers. I hope I have done both in my long career in the classroom.

One of my favorite plays through the years was Robert Bolt's A Man for All Seasons. The famous dialogue between Sir Thomas More and Richard Rich has always been rich for me as well:
"Why not be a teacher? You'd be a fine teacher, perhaps a great one."
"If I was, who would know it?
"You, your pupils, your friends, God. Not a bad public, that."
Since teaching is a career whose worth and value are not easily measured, we can only hope that, in the eyes of God, we have done an acceptable job.

"How Can You Blog About Mowing the Yard?"

Yesterday morning as I left the study in our home, my husband asked if I had been e-mailing all that time. I replied, "No, I was blogging," to which his response was, "How can you blog about mowing the yard?" I laughed and said, "You're funny!" I have to admit I am not a big blog reader, but I know there are literally millions out there online. It made me think a little about the difference though between blogs and twitters. As I understand the world of twitter, though I have never tried it, one posts a tiny message of 100 characters or so, basically telling what he or she is doing at the moment. As I think about both methods of discourse, I prefer not to be limited to actions only; I would rather speak of ideas, hopes, and dreams.

I remember keeping a diary as a young adolescent. As I read passages from it today, I am amused that I wrote only my daily activities, i. e. "I went to Clarksdale this morning with Gram and got a new sweater and skirt. Then we bought groceries at Kroger. Got home around 11:30 and ate dinner." My question, of course, about the nature now of a public blog or twitter is, "Does anyone out there really care what we are doing or thinking?" My purpose in retirement for writing a blog is two-fold: keeping in touch with a small cadre of relatives and friends and writing about issues that I believe other retirees also care about.

We all know the society is moving away from print media rapidly, and there is major employee trauma about layouts in the publishing industry and the newspaper business. Perhaps blogs and twitters can somehow be preserved for future generations as a guide to what our society was like in 2009. I hope, however, that they will say more about our interior lives than our daily activities like mowing the yard.

Present Joys and Future Griefs

Our book club has just completed a discussion of J. M. Coetzee's latest novel, Diary of a Bad Year. Its format is creative since it tells three stories simultaneously. At the top of each page, the narrator has an essay on a variety of topics, including politics, probability, birds, and so on. In the middle of the page, the dialogue centers on conversations between the narrator and his secretary-typist. At the bottom of the page, the conversations occur between the secretary-typist and her lover. Strangely enough, the novel works and a complete story is told. One of the essays that I found fascinating as a novice writer myself is that on the techniques of the masters of literature: Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, and Homer. At one point, Coetzee states, "Behind every paragraph the reader ought to to be able to hear the music of present joy and future grief." As illustrations, he speaks of Hector's father asking the king for his son's body and one of the characters from War and Peace getting his horse ready for battle on the day that he will die.

I believe Coetzee has captured the reason why so many modern authors are unable to reach the pinnacle of writing success that the old masters did from the literary canon. The works fail to achieve dramatic irony that tugs on the hearts of readers as they read about characters' "present joy and future grief." I wonder if our writing classes should focus on achieving this technique. The closest writer I have read recently who is able to still accomplish this goal is Wendell Berry. In his small novel Hannah Coulter, he writes of a young man saying goodbye to his new wife, the poignancy of the moment, and the complete unawareness that he was soon to become listed as Missing in Action--"present joy and future grief." I agree that few writers however, as Coetzee reiterates, can accomplish this goal.

To Forgive Or Not to Forgive

The news unfortunately has been filled with heinous murders over the past few weeks. So far more than fifty people have been slaughtered, for seemingly no reason, by men who evidently have recently lost their jobs, who have feared losing their gun rights in the new administration, who have been severely depressed because of treatment by others, or who are simply paranoid. In addition, several young girls have disappeared from their homes or neighborhoods and are assumed to be dead. The latest is eight-year-old Sandra Cantu in California whose body was just found in a black suitcase floating in water. I have often wondered what our responsibility as Christians is to forgive these perpetrators.

Yes, God in His Word speaks frequently of the idea of forgiveness. He gives us many illustrations of the importance of forgiving others. One of my colleagues at the university where I taught for twenty-two years had a lot of trouble with forgiving. She was attacked while a graduate student in New Orleans by several young men who said and did vile things while she was trapped in a phone booth. As a result of the experience, she has suffered for years from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She does not believe she could ever forgive these men for their actions.

Does God make any distinction between those we should forgive and those who must be forgiven by God only? Perhaps there is a glimpse of an answer in the New Testament passage, Matthew 18, verses 21-35. This group of verses speaks of the disciple Peter who comes to Jesus and asks, "Lord how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Up to seven times?" Jesus' response is remarkable when he says, " . . . up to seventy times seven." In other words we are to forgive endlessly. Jesus goes on to give a parable of the servant who failed to forgive
his fellow servants their debts. Christ then concludes by saying we simply must forgive our brother his trespasses

I believe the key word in the passage is perhaps the use of the word brother. I believe we are commanded to forgive those with whom we have a relationship before the trespass takes place. I do not believe, however, we have an obligation to forgive a stranger who does us harm. I believe forgiveness, or condemnation, must be in the hands of God for the murderers of young children and the general population.

Our Liberation Narratives

During the recent presidential campaign, the idea of liberation theology received a lot of negative publicity because of its association with the radical views of Rev. Jeremiah Wright. I have been thinking about the topic again, however, based upon a recent article I have read on the ministry of Rob Bell, pastor of Mars Hill Bible Church in Grandville, Michigan. It seems that Bell has departed from the traditional pastoral styles as taught in his previous college, Wheaton, and seminary, Fuller. He particularly wants to engage popular culture and move young adults beyond the controversial topics of the past fifteen years or so--gay marriage, abortion, and embryonic research. He wants them instead to broaden their thinking to include the poor, those infected with HIV, the environment, and the immigrants.

In an interview, Bell stated an interesting truth that I had not considered, "Our redemption experience is deeply tied to extending our redemption experiences to others." In other words, he says, God knows how forgetful we are as human beings, so much so that unless we connect our own personal salvation to "acts of justice, compassion and mercy," our faith is essentially dead.

God has given us stories that we need to share with others as our lives progress. The idea is not a new one to me, having been raised as a Southern Baptist. As members of that denomination, we were always encouraged to be able to share our "testimonies" or personal salvation experiences with others. The goal was to bring others into the fold of Christianity. As one who now attends an Episcopalian church, it seems a natural extension of the faith to be concerned with others who need our friendship, time, and love. James says in the New Testament that faith without works is not viable. We have an obligation to become involved in issues of social justice that will help liberate others--just as we ourselves have been liberated.

Accomplished and Beautiful

The Today show this morning featured a story on First Lady Michelle Obama and her likely reception in Europe for the G20 conference. Most commentators agreed that the closest First Lady parallel to Michelle was Jacqueline Kennedy. No one, of course, would deny the beauty of Jacqueline, but few spoke of her accomplishments other than perhaps in the areas of fashion and decorating--traditionally accepted feminine areas of domain. Michelle's Harvard education and strong political opinions, as exhibited frequently during the almost ever-continuing campaign, have set her apart from Jacqueline, however. I was reminded of a recent conversation I had with my granddaughter, Caitlyn, who is ten years old.

It was last week, and we were going into Target to look for a sports jersey for her five-year-old brother, Charlie. Caitlyn had just left the mall after spending about three and one-half hours going from store to store and looking at many items that she wanted to buy. She had come away with some cologne from the Bath and Body Shop, a pair of lime green iridescent tennis shoes with contrasting hot pink tights to go with them, several pairs of earrings, and a small purse from Claire's. Caitlyn commented as we walked toward the front of Target, "When I marry, I am going to choose someone that I 'like' but someone who has money so that I can buy whatever I want." Her father immediately chimed in to say, "Why not be independent, have your own career, and then buy what you want for yourself?" I added, "That way you won't have to be dependent upon a man."

In spite of the fact that women have been in professional careers for a number of years, I am still concerned about the view young girls have about their future lives. It is true that in Caitlyn's own family her mother has not worked outside the home full-time for the past ten years. She has always remembered her mother as a homemaker and her father as the breadwinner. Her parents' divorce last fall, however, is likely going to change this scenario. Caitlyn is still working on the idea in her head that a woman, like Michelle Obama, can be both accomplished and beautiful. It's an important lesson.

The Story of "mamadee"

My book study on Wednesday morning has been reading Lauren Winner's short book entitled Mudhouse Sabbath. It is a non-fiction piece that relates the story of Lauren's conversion from the Jewish faith to that of a Protestant, an Episcopalian. In her chapter on hospitality, Lauren makes the point that God created a home for us, the earth, and therefore we have an obligation to open our homes to others. She says, "To invite people into our homes is to respond with gratitude to the God who made a home for us." My sister-in-law's mother, "mamadee," personified the trait of hospitality. She died earlier this month in Kansas.

In her obituary we were told, "Although she and her husband John had 3 children born to them, they were parents to many more. She loved people and people loved her. She and John hosted numerous foreign exchange people over the years from many different countries." In addition, she had several "chosen" daughters as well. Mamadee's life has reminded me of the famous quote from missionary Jim Elliot who said, "he is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose." Or, in the words of my former Sunday School teacher, "no one has ever seen a hearse pulling a U-haul." Mamadee lived simply and gave away all she had to others.

I was the recepient of her hospitality three years ago in the fall. My husband and I had had a difficult summer including death of a close family member, placement of a father in a health facility, moves from two houses, financial concerns, etc. My sister-in-law Jan and I went by Mamadee's small apartment one day in early fall. I felt the stress in my life was great, and perhaps with a sense of that in both our lives, Mamadee greeted us with grace. She served us a "teashop" lunch of chicken salad sandwiches, tea, cream cheese and jalapeno dip, crackers, and dessert. Her table was decorated with autumn candles and pumpkins welcoming in the new season. I felt not only welcomed by her hospitality but that I had also become one of her new "chosen" daughters. It was the beginning of a personal renewal of life and hope for me.

Not everyone is blessed with the gift of hospitality as Mamadee was; after all, the Bible includes it in its list of spiritual gifts. Mamadee did not leave her heirs with many material belongings, but I believe she fully exemplified Jesus' command to "love your neighbor."

Perils in Our Octocountry

The prefix "octo" is currently being overused in our country to describe many areas of our lives. It does seem appropriate, however, to use it in relationship to the multiple problems of our economy. We are currently dealing with at least eight, if not more, including crises relating to banking, credit, housing, health care, global warming, education, consumer spending, and two wars. The Democrats have squared directly off against the Republicans. Each side believes in the correctness of its arguments.

As we have always known, the primary difference between the two parties centers on the issue of whether to have big government or small government. Democrats support the former and Republicans support the latter. I confess that I have not been consistent in my political viewpoints throughout the past few years and now call myself an independent. In other words, I can be persuaded rather easily to listen to a compelling argument from either side.

The most compelling argument I have heard recently came last night as I was listening to an interview with Daniel Hannan, a British Conservative Party representative. He seemed to be the most logical in analyzing America's latest decision to spend our way out of this gigantic recession in which we find ourselves. He simply stated that the majority of us, private individuals who find ourselves in great debt. would simply cut spending and made adjustments to lifestyles. Only politicians and bankers, he said, do the opposite: go into a mode of extravagant spending. I also found Andrew Cuomo's argument forceful: American consumers who have lost over one-half of their savings through the economic crisis are being asked to pay for the bad decisions of the bankers and insurance leaders and also pay them huge bonuses. It doesn't make sense; it simply is not logical.

In the meantime, this small retired family is taking a conservative approach to finances. We will continue to tighten our belts and save as much money as we possibly can. We will reduce spending wherever possible. That does make sense. We prefer one crisis at a time, not eight or more.

Being Seen But Not Seeing

I was reading in the Bible a few days ago when a particular passage got my attention. It basically spoke of God's being able to see us, to care for us, and to know our needs. It also spoke of our own inability to see Him clearly. I thought of this passage as I also remembered an incident back in the fall in our neighborhood. It has been my privilege since I retired three years ago to walk the paved paths each morning for a couple of miles or so. One of my neighbors, a man who appears to be in his early fifties, typically walks at the same time I do. Since we both live in the friendly South, I have always expected some type of greeting from him, yet I have never received one. He always wears dark sunglasses, listens to his IPod, and seems oblivious to the rest of the world. As for me, I have always smiled and nodded my head as we passed in opposite directions.

One day, however, I saw him coming toward me. I was walking on the left side, as we are instructed to do in order to see upcoming traffic, and he was coming toward me on the same side. We approached each other steadily until he became quite startled that I was so close to him. He said, "I didn't know anyone was there!" Since that time I have not seen him walk the paths. It occurred to me at the time that perhaps he was losing his sight, perhaps he had some type of macular degeneration and had decreased vision.

As I reflect upon the idea of being seen but not seeing, I am thankful that I believe in a higher power Who sees and cares for me at all times. When times of crises arrive, I know that I am not excused from hurt or pain anymore than anyone else is. I know though that He will walk with me through that time. I so much want to see Him more clearly, to love Him more dearly--as the praise song goes--but until that day and we come face to face I must walk in faith.

The Transformation

My daughter and I made a visit recently to one of our local health care clinics here in Little Rock with my grandson Cole. The sign in front of the clinic indicated that "walk ins" were acceptable. Even though we knew a wait would likely be necessary, we were determined that he was ill enough to see a pediatric specialist. After completing the required paperwork for insurance purposes, we waited forty-five minutes in the primary waiting area while the staff and physicians were on their lunch break. We went back to the pediatric waiting room exactly at 12:30 when we were told everyone would be back on duty. The nursing assistant conducted the usual pre-exam (taking Cole's temperature, measuring his height, and having him step on the scales for his weight). Cole asked, "Are you the doctor?" since all of his physicians in the past have been female. She laughed as if quite surprised by his question and replied, "No, you'll see the doctor soon."

The other "walk ins" sitting by us were a brother and sister evidently suffering from the lingering effects of the flu. When the young doctor arrived, wearing jeans and a casual shirt, he saw a full waiting area. He immediately began chastising his staff saying in a loud voice, "You must be kidding! Call the desk up front and tell them NOT to send any more patients back for me to see. I am overloaded already. I'll see these three but NO more." At that point he strolled back to a Coke machine and returned with a caffeine-laden Dr. Pepper. We continued to wait but talked with the other "walk ins" about the obvious lack of a bedside manner for sick people. My daughter and I dreaded going back into the examining room with Cole.

We sat for just a couple of minutes in the room, however, before we noticed "the transformation." The young doctor who had just been berating his staff (and seeing their eyes roll indicated to us it was likely not the first time) was polite, caring, and not rushed. It seemed evidence to us of a Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde split personality change. He leaned against the cabinet after his examination of Cole and talked about what symptoms Cole could expect in the coming hours using a common vernacular like "puking." We left the office remarking upon the personality change.

My husband, who worked as a health care mid-level administrator for twenty-six years, was sympathetic to the doctor indicating that our health care system in general was in great danger. This situation is likely due to managed care rules which promote the booking of far too many patients for a doctor to see during a normal work day. Obviously, if this one doctor's behavior is any indication, the strain under which our doctors work is unhealthy for them--and for us who have no other alternative. Perhaps the coming revisions in the nation's health care system will bring about much needed changes.

A Sweet, Sweet Spirit

Our three-year-old grandson from Seattle, Cole, spent several days with us recently. The first night went well, and he enjoyed playing with his cousins Caitlyn and Charlie immensely. Unfortunately, the next morning he woke up with a stomach virus. Both his Mom and I hoped that it would pass quickly, but we planned a walk-in visit anyway to one of the local clinics here in Little Rock. We arrived just before lunch (his grandfather, Pop B, decided to wait in the car) and were told, of course, that the staff were all out to lunch for an hour. As we waited, Cole made a couple of trips to the bathroom to deal with his nausea. After we had been there for quite a while, Cole looked up at his Mom and said, "Pop B is out in the car, and he's so tired and hungry."

In years past, my husband and I were in churches that frequently featured a song about "a sweet sweet spirit [being] in this place." It seems that Cole in all his innocence has that instinctual spirit to think of others instead of himself. Psychologists tell us it should be otherwise at this age, that a child is usually quite self-centered until around the age of seven or so. Cole is bucking the trend. I saw his sweet spirit again as our visit neared an end, and I knew that the 2500 miles of distance between us would not be bridged again very soon in this economy. I felt a bit sorry for myself and wailed, "Cole, I am going to miss you so much when you leave." He didn't hesitate for a second before he looked at me with that earnest little face and replied, "I will call you every day."

I would like to hope that this sweet-spirited boy will continue to have a good heart for others as he grows older. Children do learn from example, and he is blessed to have two parents and two co-parents who love him very much.

Fourteen or Eighteen Children

I have been somewhat comforted in the past day or so by the news that the so-called octomom in California has now purchased a four bedroom house with three bathrooms for her and her fourteen children. I am also happy to hear that Nadja Suleman has taken up the offer for health care around the clock for the babies from a volunteer group called Angels in Waiting. It seems that Nadja Suleman's decision to give birth to her fourteen children has given rise to much controversy, instead of joy, from both liberal and conservative voices. The controversy seems to be for several reasons: the in vetro fertilization process, the lack of a job for Nadja, the fact that three of her children already are receiving disability checks each month, and the lack of a father to provide emotional support. Compare her situation though to that of the Duggar family in Springdale, Arkansas, who have eighteen children.

The Duggars have been the subject of interest and praise for all the opposite reasons. This family has a loving and supportive mother and father, the family is able financially to care for their eighteen children, and the children are a result of mom Michelle and dad Jim Bob's desire to have as many children as God would send. There have been many other large families like this in past generations.

It seems the basic problem for Nadja is that, with the two public relations hires in the past few weeks, she wants to make money for herself and the children by exploiting them repeatedly to the many curious folks in the world who are obsessed with her story. I think both conservative and liberal groups all want the same result now that the children are here and growing steadily each day in weight and maturity: they want them to be well taken care of for their childhood.

Since the story is one that will be with us for the years and months ahead, we watch with interest to see what will happen. We wish Nadja our best at this point and hope she will take Dr. Phil's (and others' advice) that she get some mental counseling.

A Rose By Any Other Name

In the past couple of weeks, National Public Radio has announced that the former notorious prison in Iraq, Abu Ghraib, has now been renovated and renamed, Baghdad Central Prison. As a former English professor, I recall that famous line from Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet in which Juliet states, "That which we call rose by any other name would smell as sweet." She was basically saying to Romeo that, even though his surname name was Montague, names don't really matter. I agree. If one's character has been damaged by an incident, then we can rename a person or a place, but it still will not change its basic essence and the memories connected to it.

Abu Ghraib is a place that will always live in infamy as a place where America lost its credibility in regard to human rights. The rules of the Geneva Convention were completely ignored in favor of torturing prisoners in inhumane and often unspeakable ways in order to gain information. Sanitizing its name and reopening the prison will hardly erase the negative memories of the facility. In my opinion, and considering the billions of dollars already invested in the costs of a six year war, the prison should have been razed.

We would like to hope, under a new administration, that human rights in America will re-emerge. Yes, we Americans want and need to be safe but at what cost to our own humanity? Baghdad Central Prison will always be tainted by its history of torture. A little bit of whitewash will hardly change that perception.

Buddha for Sale

Shortly after Christmas I was walking through one of our malls here in Little Rock when I passed a store window that gave me a bit of a start. In the front window was a quite massive statue of Buddha in his traditional pose--the meditating Buddha with his eyes closed and his legs crossed. His body was gold in color. What caught my eye most, however, was that the price beside him had been reduced from $250 to $175. I wondered if this willingness to sell Buddha at a reduced price might be reflective not only of the economic times in which we find ourselves but also of the reduced interest in God (or the gods in some cases) to provide help and sustenance for us. I hope the latter will never be true.

One of the novels I am currently reading is entitled The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga, which won the Man Booker Prize last year. Early on in the book, the narrator Balram, or Munna, speaks of the primary religions and numbers their gods. In the Muslim faith, he counts one, Christians three (not three in one as Christians would argue), and Hindus 36,000,000. If we add Buddha, the number becomes 36,000,005 that we could possibly pray to for help. And that's just four of the primary religions!

As a Christian, of course, I find great comfort in praying to the one God of our faith during times of crisis. As I reflect upon my life for the past sixty years of prayer, I can find so many evidences of small miracles that I believe God has brought about in my behalf. These relate to receiving unexpected money when our budget was impossible to meet, having perfect timing throughout the day in accomplishing multiple tasks, and even having God leave signs of my father's belief after his sudden death. I don't think it's time to put our God on hold or on sale. He still gives hope in spite of a world which is seemingly filled with chaos, great tragedy, and sadness.

The Gap Between God and Gays

On February 18, I was pleased to host the film premiere of our daughter's documentary entitled Testimony. The project represents the culmination of several years' work, and it features a number of gay men and women from San Francisco, Seattle, and Little Rock. They are from all religious denominations including Jews and Christians. They are African American, Anglo, and Hispanic. All conclude in their testimonies that it is possible to be both religious and gay. The primary impediment for their acceptance comes from their church doctrines which teach that being gay is a choice, not a reflection of genetics.

I often wonder how we can bridge this seeming gap between God and gays, or more implicitly between church doctrine and gays. I believe that a careful study of the context of both the Old Testament and the New Testament might shed light on the dilemma. If one looks into the original Greek translation of the Bible, he or she finds that references to homosexuals were always in the context of temple idolatry. These references were never made in the context of a committed relationship between two people. We also have to remember the point of view from which Christianity arose. The Bible tells the story of the history and religion of the Hebrews. In their culture, it was vital to increase their numbers through procreation. Today, however, such reasoning would not seem to apply.

Even from the teaching I have experienced in a very conservative Christian environment through the years, there is a strong emphasis on security of the believer; in other words, when one comes into the kingdom of God, he or she will never be lost again. If we believe that to be true in conservative churches, how hard is it to believe there should be no gap between God and gays. The gap comes from the application of church doctrine based upon its interpretation only of the Scripture. Jesus never spoke of the issue; He simply taught that we should all love God and love each other. Will we ever be able to apply His words to our world?