“Do not conform to the pattern of this world…”

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I am sort of all over the place today. My hubby is off on a business trip again. He is gone 2 weeks of every month. Lately he has chosen to take them back-to-back so he has more of a steady time at home. The house felt sort of empty this morning. Getting old is weird. Hormones are all over the place. Squirrel. My hair is gray. I am trying new products to tame the frizzes. I tried the method where you wash just with conditioner. Not pretty. Tried for a week and could not stand it. Discovered my hair needs keratin. Who knew? Conditioning today. We got 18″ of snow the past 3 days. We are using either our wood stove or floor heating and it makes the air so dry. And my hair flies all over the place. Lovely when you add wool scarves and sweaters. Not. See? All over the place.

I just reconnected with a friend from High School. She and I were so close, for so long. I am not sure why we stopped being in touch. Perhaps me getting married and having kids and she was seriously in school and having a career…and we moved away from one another, too. But it is so good to get connected via Facebook, and to relaunch our relationship. I was so excited!! It gave me a spring in my step today.

So I blow dried my hair and it is still so fly-away-ish. Had to re-apply the leave-in conditioner. We will see how this formulation works for me. Gray hair is so picky.

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” Romans 12:2

My hubby and I have been dealing with issues regarding our parish and the practicing of the faith we have come to love (and were so well instructed in, by an amazing priest and many friends – priests and monks among them). And it has caused a little friction. Nothing like damaging to our relationship, but in our 34 years together, our faith journey has always been a joint one. Perhaps friction is not the right term. It’s more like there was a pea in our mattress and we just were not comfortable. We always walked together in faith. Our journey has amused many, and confused even more! And over the past 6 months or so, we have sorted of marched to a different drummer. And that is never good. I was always cautioned to not marry outside of my faith practices because people who are “un-equally yoked” do not work out. And I experienced it once, in a long term relationship. I was even engaged to him. He was Jewish. (Reform, not Orthodox, or it probably would never have happened in the first place). But eventually, especially after having developed such an amazing relationship with his rabbi and knowing I was firmly a Christian woman, his cultural adherence to many Jewish traditions, and me not fitting in well with his family, caused me to call things off. He was a great person and I did not wish him ill. I just realized we could never work. His rabbi and I remained friends, up until his death, often meeting for coffee and chats, long after my relationship had waned. I knew I needed a good, strong, Christian man in my life and was wise enough to call the wedding off. And when I met my husband, he lit up my life. And the more I got to know him, the more I wanted his faith. I wanted that relationship he had with God. I used to watch him pray, and while kneeling next to him, prayed that I could be like that. He has been good for me. I often tell him that he saved me from my worst self. He dragged me into a more pious life and I loved it. Over the past 6 or more months, that has waned. And I admitted to him that I miss it. At this same time, my husband realized our relationship with our faith practices needed to change. We spoke and realized we felt the same way about things. About some pretty important things. Whew. A good talk is sometimes all you need to realign your northern star – in my case, that is my piety and sense of faith permeating everything; my relationship to Christ and His Church.

 

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I have taught my kids that it is better to be that lone person, standing for what is right, rather than going with the majority. I believe that to be so in pretty much everything. You can apply it to your chosen career – be the best you can be at whatever it is you do, even if you are not a part of the crowd. In politics, for me, I rarely follow what the majority is calling for. I am conservative – socially, financially, spiritually, and pro life. Period. It permeates even the voting booth. In my faith, I prefer historically connected, profound, and deeply rooted worship. Throw in beeswax candles and icons, and I am there! I was raised next door to Russians, whose parents immigrated from Russia. They had such an interesting spin on life. From the father of the family, I learned to fence, using rapiers from the Royal Court in Russia. I learned to drink Russian tea made in a Samovar. And I learned about Russian tales and foods, traditions and history. I fell in love with Russia, reading everything I could find on it. The old, the traditional, the historically connected has always grabbed me. As an adult, I found myself learning all about my faith at a secular university, funnily enough. I converted to Catholicism as an adult. Coincidentally, about this time, I met my husband. (When I was dating my Jewish boyfriend, I was Geneva Presbyterian – until I converted to Catholicism at age 27). Over our 32 years of marriage, as we have journeyed through a very “orthodox” Catholic life, we discovered the Eastern Catholic Church. It was then that I truly began to breathe with both lungs. I was hooked. We moved over to the Melkite Greek Catholic Church, which is culturally Arabic, but Byzantine/Greek in worship style. My husband became a Deacon, after attending the Melkite seminary. We made life-long friends we dearly miss, during this time period. I literally fell in love with Church. I was there 2-4 days every week. I helped with our homeless kitchen and soon found myself transporting donated food weekly in my suburban, dragging my homeschooled kids with me. I loved working in the kitchen with all the Arab ladies. We had so much fun. And they taught me Arabic traditions, histories, foods, clothing styles, and how they raised their kids and the many faith traditions they held precious. When we moved to Alaska, we discovered there was no Melkite Church up here. We have been adapting. Our youngest son found a youth group he loves, at the local Roman Catholic parish. We support him in attending their “young men’s bible studies” and trips, and youth group every week. (He is well-known in the local parish and usually brings up the gifts on Sundays at Mass. He’s quite the popular teenager. We joke that he knows more people in Alaska than any of the rest of us does). We attend there as a family and it has been good. It is not our beloved Eastern tradition, but it is Church.

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We’ve adapted to this culture up here. (It’s cold and white everywhere these days, because we have so much snow!!) We have become sort of bland. Ha-Ha! And I got pulled away from the practice of what I love, into a rather generic sort of Christian expression. Even in these posts, I was more inclusive, even of the photos I would use to illustrate my posts. I have stopped explaining about my faith practices, letting people just assume I am a generic “Christian” woman. Which I am, but I realized that I have been compromising myself. It is not all of who I truly am. I cannot please the public; I cannot continue to “pose” as something I am not. And I was caving into the pressures I had warned my kids about all these years. I was not being true to who I really am. I am an Eastern-rite Catholic woman. I love the smell of incense. I love the Divine Liturgy. I love chant. Not Gregorian, but old world, eastern chant. I love icons. I love being in a church where you can scent the incense from a previous Liturgy, and light the beeswax candles and be transported to a holier place; a place of oneness with God. It eases my soul. And even if I am “all over the place” and a tad bit scatterbrained today, I am also more at ease because I have realized these things about myself. And it comforts me.

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I realize that many of you do not worship this way, nor understand why people would. Our democratic ideals have permeated our styles of worship, and that is okay, if it sits well with you. I have always been a history-oriented person. I majored in Anthropology and minored in Biblical Archeology. History – church – faith. It has alway been a part of who I am. When I walked the parapets of a castle in Wales as a 16-year-old, I felt those walls speak to me. I would run my hands down them, marveling at how ancient they were and how connected to that antiquity I felt. I was walking the lands of my ancestors and I felt truly at home and very welcome, in among all the artifacts and tapestries, old walls and artwork. Walking through Churches and Cathedrals while we visited England, I constantly had a backache because I spent the entire time bent over, looking at all the engravings on the stones. I took so many rubbings. I felt rooted. I could really breathe at some of these places. It is the same for me in the way I choose to worship. I love tradition and the fact that I can historically trace my Church back to the Apostles. We have songs that are so old, there is no written record of them, just references to them by the Church Fathers, talking about how old they were back in the Apostolic days. Those of us who are Melkite like to tease our Roman/Latin Rite friends that we had St. Peter before they did, because he established the Church in the east before he meandered his way to Rome (wink-wink). And so I have decided that I am not going to hide who I am any longer. I am not going to water things down. I am not going to represent an American Jesus for the palpability of my newer friends. (And those in my business world). I believe in Jesus Christ and I do that in communion with them. However, I also believe in the traditions that brought Protestantism its lifeblood. We had the traditions long before they were put into a book – the Bible – the same one we all read, before all those pesky books were removed out of it. And we were an oral people – sharing our faith and our traditions with others through the practices passed on to us from the Apostles themselves. This is not a haughty or conceited viewpoint, nor is it meant to put people off. But it is the Church I choose to worship in; it is the tradition which gives my lungs breath. It is part of who I am.

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[By the way, my hair feels amazing right now. The blow drying has cooled and it feels like silk. Still gray, but not so much frizziness. Maybe this stuff is working!?!?! Keratin – who knew??]

And so my friends, from here on out, I will be sharing honestly about who I am. I will share through an Eastern lens, through the faith I practice. I am ecumenical because I believe we all hold the same God in our hearts, but I won’t apologize or hide that I prefer icons and a Jesus prayer, Divine Liturgy and incense, the iconostasis and beeswax candles, confession in front of an Icon of Christ the Pantocrator, and cantors with no musical accompaniment, to pretty much all the rest of it. It just fits me and I will no longer apologize nor hide it from you. It is part of what makes me, me. And it is part of who I am when I communicate with all of you, on this blog. I hope you will continue to read, if you do. I am still who I am! It’s just me going back to the me I was a few years ago.

May the Lord grant you many blessed years.

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“…if you live in the fear of man…”

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So so much in my head…swimming around. We have so much on our plates, but that is cool. It keeps us moving and motivated! Ha-Ha! We attended a class on house buying. Those of you who know us also know we’ve owned homes before. What’s cool is that if you have not owned in the past three years, you are considered a “first time home buyer.” Which is so very cool. And in Alaska, they have so many loan products for you, waiting to assist you in buying a home here. Our second night is tonight, so my brain will probably explode. Again. So much information!!

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And in addition, we have decisions coming up that are important, life-changing ones. We are preparing to care for my mom, who has Alzheimer’s. So we are looking into a larger residence, in preparation to have her live with us. We need to decide where the best place will be for us to live. We have so many factors to take into consideration. And when you have a huge decision to make, what do you do? Well, you start by taking a deep breath and praying about it. And I mean seriously praying, in light of Gospel principles…

“Jeremiah 29:11
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope…”

Lord, We come before You and place our deepest and heartfelt desires at Your feet. We have a decision to make and we want it to be in Your best interest, according to Your will and plans for our life. We pray for guidance for the best choices in life, through all the blessings You bestow, through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

When I prepare to make a huge decision that will affect not only me, but my entire family, I completely place it in God’s hands. I am just not qualified to make these decisions, based on solely my own judgement. And isn’t it really what our faith is? We trust in the Lord to guide our steps. Every step we take is either a step towards God, or a step away from Him. And I want to walk in the path He has selected for me, for my best welfare. Quite often, in the face of a heavy decision, we are faced with a multitude of choices, among a multitude of opinions and advice. It is often hard to single out the Word of God for us.

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When you are placing yourself in God’s hands, these large decisions, even if there is a multitudinous cacophony around you, can be realized in the quiet peace of being in the presence of God. I liken it to being in a crowd and feeling alone. Most of us know what that is like. Even though we are in a crowded room, we often feel alone, even lonely. And sometimes, we are able to block out all the other sounds, but our own hearts; our own breaths. That is what it is like, coming into the presence of our Creator. But truly, we are always in the presence of God. And when we listen for the stillness amongst the chaos, we can find His peace, and His answer to our prayers. I have quite often heard that if it is from God, it will happen; it will flow; it will be easy, simple. Most decisions that are fraught with chaos are those we make, taking full responsibility for them, without input from God.

I was asked recently how I handle these decisions and the stress. I can tell you this past Christmas was one of our worst. We were lonely. We did not celebrate; not really. It was pretty in that it was a white Christmas and our parish had some wonderful ice sculptures and Nativity pieces, and our older children and grandchildren tended Mass with us (the kids were the highlight of the evening!!). But we were missing something. I realized that we were missing the Godly element in Christmas. And it makes it sort of hollow and empty. It’s not for us to receive gifts, it is for us to receive the Christ Child in our hearts and in our lives. And this missing element caused a lot of unknown-origin-stress, so much so that I had severe heart palpatations that lasted for 5 days. It was un-nerving in the sense that it wore me out and it was painful – my chest began to ache. I had been diagnosed with this a few years ago, and it is not life-threatening, but it is bothersome. But it was my stress, coming out in my body. Not good, my friends, not good. But why? Because I was doing things without God, without sincere, deep prayer. I also did not fast this year. Bad, bad, bad. Fasting precedes feasting – the one is hollow without the other. And so to answer my friend, I told her that I needed to pray and when I found peace, I knew God was in the answer, and not man; not me. Joyce Meyer, an evangelist and author, wrote an entire article entitled, “Following Peace to Make the Right Decisions (here is the link: http://www.joycemeyer,org) and in her article she says:

“Colossians 3:15 clearly tells us how. It says, And let the peace (soul harmony which comes) from Christ rule (act as umpire continually) in your hearts [deciding and settling with finality all questions that arise in your minds]…. “If you follow God’s leadership, you will have peace, joy and righteousness.” If you follow God’s leadership, you will have peace, joy, righteousness, and you’ll bear good fruit. What you won’t be is confused and frustrated. God never leads us to busy ourselves so much that we’re stressed out all the time and have no joy. And He won’t try to confuse your mind—that’s the enemy’s job. To find where your peace lies, simply ask yourself: Is there a scripture that applies to my situation? What does the Word say I should do? For example, if there’s something you want to buy but you don’t have enough in your bank account to buy it, it’s probably best to wait because God doesn’t want us to be in debt (see Romans 13:8). Many times, God’s Word sounds a lot like common sense. I encourage you to let the peace in your heart decide with finality every question that arises in your mind.”

And I believe that; I truly do. She also talks about seeking guidance from friends: “The Bible does say there’s safety in a multitude of counselors (see Proverbs 11:14). But you could ask 10 different people about your situation and end up with 10 different answers. One thing you should ask yourself is, Am I seeking wise counsel? A lot of times, we end up asking people who don’t even know what they’re doing. Or they may have a selfish motive. Keep this in mind: True counseling leads you to God; it doesn’t try to run your life.”

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And so we will take in all this information we are being given about home buying. We will listen to those with wisdom and a Godly outlook. We will listen and pay attention to those who have done this and come out ahead. We will listen to the experts in the field, but also place a mantle of Godly wisdom and prayer over the whole thing. We cannot expect to be guardians of more if we are not wise guardians of what we have now. We cannot expect God’s blessing on our decisions if we do not seek His wisdom in choosing. We cannot expect an easy life, either. My grandma used to say that my husband and I were going straight to heaven because of all the things that seem to happen to us. And in a way, I loved that she said that. Each time you try to approach life in the arms of God, the evil one tries to interfere and take you down. Evil is lurking just outside our line of sight, waiting to help take us down. And so we need to be wise in the ways of God, and simple. The more complex and chaotic, the easier it is for evil to enter into the mix. God comes in the quiet and stillness of our hearts and true Peace is ours, and our decisions are blessed, when He enters into the picture. The name of the game is to persevere in faith towards God, not towards man and the many obstacles placed in our way by the wiles of this world.

“And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7

As Joyce Meyer says in her article:  “If you feel something strongly in your heart, you’ve prayed about it and it goes along with Scripture, then follow your heart. If you feel led to make a decision that others don’t like, you shouldn’t have to give an unreasonable amount of explanation for what you feel led to do. Maybe you don’t know why—you just sense that’s just what you’re supposed to do. God has a plan, and you are part of that plan, but you won’t live it if you live with the fear of man. What do you think God is saying to you? What are you sensing from God? Ultimately, you need to take responsibility for making the decision that brings peace to your heart. If you make a mistake, it’s not the end of the world. But being true to what God has put on your heart is the key to your happiness.”

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“Not from the mouth of the Lord…”

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I have once again had my tail handed to me – online – by people who assume it is okay to yell at others, slam their integrity, and impugn them. All without ever having met them, even being “Facebook friends,” or other social media connection. And man oh man, has the vitriol gone viral!

I find it interesting that when you disagree with someone, or even point out holes in their argument, they unleash the hounds of hell on you. Online. Wow. In a forum, someone was bemoaning the fact that people are constantly using the forum in place of google, as I alluded to (well, I actually said it) in a post yesterday. Today, I opined basically what I said on my own blog post yesterday, that perhaps if you find the information yourself, it becomes your knowledge. And that growing and stretching and changing is painful, but it is satisfying in and of itself. And then I was accused of a litany of defects, most of which were assembled around the fact that I cannot acknowledge that others have feelings, too, and are insecure and cannot function without seeking confirmation or ratification from others. And therein lies my problem with all of this.

“Thus says the LORD of hosts, “Do not listen to the words of the prophets who are prophesying to you. They are leading you into futility; They speak a vision of their own imagination, Not from the mouth of the LORD.” Jeremiah 23:16

When our society has continually lied to its people, and perpetuated false truths, the result of that can be seen in its young people. At 60 years old, I guess I am no longer a part of the “younger generation,” the “cool kids” like I was in the 70s and 80s. And I have seen the awful results of poor education through experimentation with what is presented, and how it is presented, in our schools and other institutions (even Little League and Pop Warner football). Everyone has to be treated “sensitively,” and we have to be sure “little Johnny” isn’t offended by anything. The false god of pride is alive and well in America and is manifested in our plethora of entitled youth. If “little Johnny” cannot read at grade level, well, we don’t want him to feel bad (and I, his teacher, am so overwhelmed with having to show good scores for my job safety) we promote him, even though he is not ready for it. There’s a movie I love, that is really inappropriate in so many ways, but I love it nonetheless, “Easy A.” I love that Emma Stone takes a stand against the gossipers, and that she “takes one for the team” of inept and socially outcast students, and eventually even a guidance counselor. I love how her parents (Stanley Tucci and Patricia Clarkson) totally get her and support her, even when she changes her style of clothing and sews an “A” on everything. And I bring this up because a boy says he got a venereal disease from her, when in fact he got it from that guidance counselor I mentioned. And he is 21 years old, and only a senior in High School. The girl who likes him (Amanda Bynes) says it is because it is “his choice” to go slowly through school, so he can be a good role model and Christian (he belongs to a Christian group trying to have an affect on other students and it is woefully lampooned in this movie). It becomes obvious this kid is about as dumb as a rock, and that is why he is still in HS at 21 years old. He smoked way too much funny tobacco or something. It is played so well by Cam Gigandet, an actor I like, who was also in Twilight (but that is another post, Bryce. No, he did not sparkle). The guidance counselor (Lisa Kudrow) keeps saying that it is okay because he is over 21 (although it is still wrong because she is married – to her wonderfully unaware husband, played by Thomas Haden Church). He is caught by his mother (and doctor in an hilarious hospital scene) and sent to live with his grandparents in Arizona, where he sits, reading Scripture to them in a short clip.

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The movie shows in so many ways what a massively wrong turn we took, as a culture, somewhere along the way. The fact that this movie, in all its graphic details, shows how kids treat one another, demonstrates why I was taken aback, but not surprised, at the attack on me today. After I shut my computer, I re-opened it and looked at the people lambasting me for suggesting they do their own research. I “Facebook stalked” them and looked at their profiles. Yeah, they were all young enough (or old enough, depending upon where you are standing) to be my children. At least my college-grad children. And I felt really sorry for them. They have probably been given “A’s” their whole life, along with participation trophies for just being on a team, let alone having to strive to be their best for their team.

“I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you.” Psalm 32:8

There was a term recently coined during this election cycle and I chuckled when I saw it, and all the glorious artwork accompanying the term. It is, “snowflake.” Now, before some of you get all mad (in case you were not already) let me explain. I live in Alaska. I am around snowflakes all the time. They are beautiful, but extremely fragile. You can only see them if the conditions are perfect, otherwise they will melt away, or become joined by zillions of others and then you are in a snow storm and cannot see them. Right now, the snowflakes are all around us because we are having very cold temps, but no new snow. Everything is covered in this delicious coat of white. It is stunning, truly, to see. Everything is made new in freezing fog and ice.

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Taken in the social construct in which it was termed, a snowflake is someone who just cannot handle the heat of this election cycle, or the fact that they are going to have to go to work, in order to succeed. One man, on a different site, bemoaned the fact that his 31 year old son was living on his couch and was still asleep at 1:00pm, and had no job. Tons of people jumped on that as a lack of this man’s parenting skills, whereas the man was blaming the system for his son’s lazy attitude of entitlement. I can honestly say I believe it is a combination of both. We ship our kids off for 8-9 or more hours a day to a federally mandated educational system that seeks to mold “yes men” and workers out of our kids. Not thinkers. No doers. People who punch a mindless time clock but don’t invent a new way to conquer cancer. People who do not question but just accept what they are fed. And when they have to step outside that comfort zone, and actually learn to think for themselves, they are unable to do it without constant social media support. And today, these youngsters were complaining about all the rules inherent in the Whole30 program, trying to bend them so they could “handle” it. Well, when you are used to being given everything, it is hard to do it for yourself. They hold up bottles and packages, constantly asking, “Is this compliant?” and when I commented that they needed to learn for themselves, they attacked. Boy, did they attack. And I realized it was because they are “adults” and know on some level they are not healthy and have been making poor dietary choices. And they do want to fix it. But these rules are hard. These words confuse them (galactose – okay…but I see “tose” and I know its sugar!!) and they cannot possibly read the labels by themselves. Wow. It makes me sad for them. How are they going to function as adults in this world if they cannot even follow a dietary rule, without social media help (and I’m sorry, but who checks Facebook in a grocery store????) and without attacking other people??

Psalm 143:8 says this: “Remind me each morning of your constant love, for I put my trust in you. My prayers go up to you; show me the way I should go.”

Our world is tanking, my friends. Our youth have been fed garbage in our schools and universities and us dumb parents have allowed it to happen. Why? We trusted our country and our politicians, our leaders and teachers, to know what was best for our kids. Well, I didn’t too much, as I opted to homeschool my kids. But still, those trophies were given out when our boys played sports. I do remember my oldest son, however, chucking a little participation trophy to the side one time. When we commented on it after his season-ending pizza party, he told us, “It’s stupid. We didn’t win anything. We came in last.” Out of the mouths of babes. These same kids, who all thought they were so awesome all this time, now cannot even follow a diet without a meltdown. God bless America and God help our grandchildren’s generation. I can only pray we bring back law and order, the right to say, “Merry Christmas,” and some industry and prosperity and pride. Perhaps they’ll catch on as they run to catch up.

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“Was that today????”

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Have you ever faced a task that you truly do not want to face? Ugh. My “office” is a disaster. There is barely floor space. I have no idea what happened to me. I am usually organized. Things have fallen by the wayside and I cannot get myself going these days. I have started back on D3, because I know with no sunshine, that is part of it. And we went off our Whole30 regime of clean eating, and I am finding sugar is my enemy. It affects so much of who I am and how I feel. And it is not good.

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I am so blessed to have discovered Whole30 and the amazing group of people online who work tirelessly answering zillions of questions. I once asked my son, “You have google on your phone. Why don’t you look it up for yourself?” He responded, “Because you’re here and you will know this.” Well, so many of us are LAZY. We ask others when we can obtain the information ourselves, with a push of some buttons. “Is this compliant?” is constantly asked, with a photo of a bottle of something or other they are holding up. I mean, come on! In the time it took you to take a photo and show us all how diligent you are about trying to do Whole30, you could have googled it yourself. Who checks Facebook at the grocery store? Not me. I don’t want to use the data! LOL! I print things out; I read the book; I read labels. We can do this ourselves, without constantly checking social media sources. I feel bad for those admins on Whole30 and my other weakness, the Instant Pot. Oh man oh man. I love that appliance!

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It has made my life so much simpler and meals are done so fast! I’m a little obsessed, but that’s another post! Back to hating to do things…my office. Ugh.  I went out and got myself a planner for this year and spent the morning inputting all the birthdays and anniversaries for our family and close friends. I input important dates, like when school samples are due and my youngest son’s graduation date from high school. It seems so weird that I will soon have no one of school age in my home. So weird. All of these “rites of passage” that happen to us each year. This past November, our newest grand daughter was born and it was fun to add her birthdate to this year’s calendar. There are losses, but there are so many blessings along the way.

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I’m not sure why my office looks like it does, or why I have allowed it to become this sort of haven for lost paperwork and stacks of books. It’s like a cave. And heavens to Betsy, if someone moves something or knocks a stack over, I am in deep trouble. My daughter-in-law purged their house and I acquired a new short bookcase and a rolling cart full of colored drawers where I can organize files. I just have to do it. The mattress we had for guests this summer is still folded in the corner, with the clean sheets and blankets on it. But our 15-year-old dog sort of claimed it as a bed during the day because our floor heater is right next to it, and the blankets make it cozy. It is a whopping 9-degrees outside today with freezing fog, so I don’t begrudge him his warm spot.

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The planner in the second photo above is the one I chose. I am not an artsy person, so simple works for me. Stickers and such were bought, too, but I keep planning simple. I like lines to write on and I will add decor and photos as I can. I used to keep a scrap book sort of book calendar when my kids were small. I prefer something that highlights my week, but keeps me on track. So my data is entered and I have had some meaningful conversations, my laundry is waiting to be moved to the dryer so I can wear a clean swimsuit to water aerobics tonight, and…my office still looks like a cave. Tomorrow….at least I sort of started today. Sort of.

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“Procrastination is the avoidance of doing a task that needs to be accomplished. It is the practice of doing more pleasurable things in place of less pleasurable ones, or carrying out less urgent tasks instead of more urgent ones, thus putting off impending tasks to a later time.”  That is pretty much me right now….lol!

“…Do not let your hearts be troubled…”

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Oh do we have snow! Not as much as they have been warning us about (although it’s not over, yet) but everything is white. You see the world in whites and grays in this winter wonderland. The light from the sun weaves its ambient presence among us and the world is much more quiet and serene. Even the local dump is pretty, covered in beautiful layers of snowy goodness! As we wander into the last days of this incredibly wild year, I have pondered what my next days will be filled with. I am not good with “resolutions” and even the word sounds so final. I rarely keep them. I intend to, which is the main thing, but my follow-through for an entire year is usually weak. And since I know that about myself, and am “of an age” where I can readily express that with no embarrassment, I do! Ha-Ha!

2017

I do wish everyone a blessed and happy New Year. I pray that 2017 is a year of profound peace and prosperity, in whatever ways mean that to you. For me, I am seeking a return to what I somehow laid aside. I am anxious for inner peace – moreover, an inner contentment. It has somehow escaped me and I spend many nights tossing and turning, many days exhausted from a lack of good sleep, and an overall feeling of impending doom. That is no way to go through life. I am working on my health and my supplements! I know I need more vitamin D! I am working on that. We had a very successful experience trying the Whole30 elimination diet and we did so for 49 days, until Thanksgiving. Since then, we have both seen our overall health tank. The old aches and pains are back, some new ones cropped up, and we have an overall feeling of just plain, well, “yuck.” So in 3 days we will back at this Whole30 experience. You can google it, if you are unaware of what it is, and you can also look back at some earlier posts, when I explained in more detail what we are up to.

This year, we met a lot of new people and I can honestly say, our lives are the better for it. Our perspectives have broadened, and we have found areas that we want to grow in. It is wonderful, too, to find a group of like-minded individuals. While many of them have younger families, we have found a group where we are among our peers. And we both love being with people our age and life experiences. It is fun. And so in the coming year, we hope to strengthen these relationships, make many of these people close friends, and grow and learn many new skills. Living where we do, we are deeply intrenched in the seasons of the earth. Right now, in deep winter, we are all hunkered down and only occasionally getting together. I cannot wait for spring and summer – more opportunities to mingle, lots of new things to experience, and more people to get to know. And, we get to try our hand at a better garden this year!

windowsnowcoffeenoborder

One of the things I have learned this past year is that social media, while it can be a good thing, can suck you dry. It can pull you in, because perhaps you are lonely. It can take over your day. You can be so caught up in checking Facebook and emails, tweets and pins, that you forget to be present to those around you. You forget to live this life in the here and now. I do believe our computers aid us (I am typing this on my gorgeous, and purple, MacBook) but I also think that the ease with which they purport to make our lives, also complicates them. I can’t recall the last time I went days without checking things on either my computer or my phone. I deleted a bunch of apps off my phone the last few days. I decided it was just too much. Facebook Messenger was insane. Ugh. My phone beeps and tweets and sings to me all day long. Even when I turn off my notifications, something beeps at me. And I came to the realization that I sit far too long, looking at the activities of other people, and not having enough of my own. How silly is that?

So I am trying to keep a sort of “resolution,” in that I have deleted apps from both my phone and computer, and I am simplifying. I mean, for instance, I am down to 1 Angry Bird app. Period. And I am down to 1 solitaire game across all media platforms.  That is progress my friends! I am seriously thinking of deleting my aquarium app, as I have 6 tanks and if I don’t feed those darn fish…well, you know. (Gross). But seriously. I am 60 years old. And I play Angry Birds. What is up with that?? I feed make-believe fish in make-believe aquariums. I think I knew I was going off the rails when I started breeding sharks in amongst the angel fish. I mean, how sick is that?? And what am I NOT doing whilst feeding imaginary fish and  defeating imaginary pigs? I am not praying. I am not reading. I am not becoming a better me. Does Angry Birds help me get closer to God? Uhm, no. I think He is probably shaking His head at my silliness.

We are all called to be His children. We are all called to share the Word of God with those around us. We are all called to help our fellow man. Angry Birds does not do any of that. I spent an afternoon canning with some new friends this fall. In a very out-of-the-way place (where there was not even navigation in my car or phone reception, and yes, I got momentarily lost as I journeyed home) with some wonderful new people in my life. The conversation was great. We shared stories and we laughed. The skills acquired were really a re-introduction to canning, as I had not done it in years. But the skills shared, the wisdom in that cabin, has stayed with me. And I hunger for more of the same. These were some real people and I felt so welcome and so “at home.” We shared, with one another, the gist of who we are in the simple tasks of washing black currants, and boiling water, of making coffee, and slicing and blanching carrots. What a simple joy that afternoon was. And it profoundly struck me. That is what I want more of.

Do you know I have only been shopping in our one, large mall here 1 time? Guess what? I have no desire to go there. At all. I’ve never been a shopper, and I am really growing to hate crowds of people. But you know what I am anxious for? What I want to do? What I am excited for? Getting together to cook and  make some scrumptious recipes with some of my new friends. We’ve been teasing each other with recipes! I am looking forward to some shooting lessons. I desperately want to feel more confident in my basic skills in regards to being prepared for our next “snowmaggedon” or our new volcanic eruption, or the next big earthquake. Learning to freeze foods; learning to dehydrate foods. Canning, in all its glory. Planting a well-thought-out garden. These things excite me.

house-snow

As we age, our dreams change. I no longer foresee a house in a development, or master-planned community. I envision a place with space around it. It doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s home; it doesn’t have to please anyone else. But I would like it to to be simple, serene, and away from the “maddening crowd.” I dream of a log cabin, although I am aware of how much adjusting and upkeep they require. I don’t need my own lake or river, but it would be nice to have one close by so my dear husband can grab his fishing gear and walk down to the water, and relax while challenging the salmon. I would love to have space so he can hunt if he wants to, without having to drive miles upon miles to do it. And I want a space where others feel welcome and want to come and hang out. Even if it is simply for some card games and coffee. I would like my forever home. Because I am so very tired of moving. I want my roots in this land to go deep. I want a home where my grandkids will someday say, “Remember grandma and grandpa’s house in the woods where we got to fish and run around?” I want to make those memories with my grandchildren, and with my children, and my husband. I want inner serenity. I want peace and contentment. I certainly don’t want millions of dollars and all that it requires to take care of it. I want to be safe and comfortable, in a space where I can host others, and share some peace and laughter with them.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27

And so for 2017, I wish for you the same. The peace the world cannot offer; the peace of Christ. I wish for all of us, to have fear leave us and for contentment to find us. I pray the world will calm down and we can each find this peace in our own little corner of it. For some, it will be an apartment in the middle of a vast city, driving to and from on complicated highways and byways. For others, it will be on farms and rural homes. Still others in suburban hideaways, where they can escape the madness of their commutes. But at least once a week, I pray we can all find our way to kneel before the One Who created us, to give thanks, to be humbled, and to enjoin with Him Who gave us life and breath, and hearts to love. “Our thoughts determine our lives” (Elder Thaddeus) is something I try to live by. If we all have thoughts of peace and we share them, peace will emanate from us and fill those around us. One way to find peace is to seek the quiet and serenity wherever, and whenever, we can. For me, I think I will slowly unplug from the rat race. I may still play a round or two of Angry Birds, but I am trying to rein that in, too. I know that waking early, spending some time reading the Word of God and having a chat with Him, starts my day off right. I also love to enjoy a quiet cup of coffee, and a little time with my husband before he is off to his day. These good habits that ground us are often hard to come by, and hard won. But they give us peace and prepare us as we enter into the work the Lord has given us for this day. And for me, I will take these “resolutions” and tackle each day, one at a time, as I resolve to find peace, contentment, and work on all these new things and new people in our lives. “…Do not let your hearts be troubled…”

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God’s blessings on you and yours as we wade into this new year – 2017.

Forget-me-not…

alzheimers-brain-puzzle

My mom has “stage 3” Alzheimer’s disease. It is not static; it is progressing. And so, I had a long chat with my sister yesterday. I call her my sister, but she is officially my “step sister.” And that seems just weird to call her that. We are sisters in our hearts. And she does not have a sister from her parents, and neither do I – it works out perfectly. We met when we were both in our 20s. Our parents fell in love and began living together, and after much pressure from us kids, were eventually married. My mom’s husband, aka my other dad, passed away just three years ago, from a very short and ugly bout of cancer. And it seems like he’s been gone forever. He will always leave a hole in our lives. To my children, he was their grandpa, not their grandma’s husband. He always made sure to let each of us know how much he loved us. And we all returned that love. He was an incredible man. And he loved my mother so very much. She knows he is gone. She kisses his framed photo each morning upon rising, and each evening at bedtime. My sister reminds her so very much of him. And she loves my sister as her own; even loving all of her husband’s grown children as her own. And her grandchildren through him, too. My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a couple of years before my stepdad became ill. But at his death, it became obvious we could not let her live by herself. So, we moved her to a retirement home just after my stepdad passed away. My brother could not take her, and I live thousands of miles away. She is so attached emotionally to my sister, and we gratefully found a place just 5 minutes from her house, in sunny Southern California.

purpletreeleaves

Today, we came to the conclusion that where my mom is living is no longer working. We’ve skirted this issue for months now. Not only is she beginning to require more care, and this facility is not a memory care facility, but she is also no longer happy there. She knows she is not with her family. (She calls it her “prison.” She says it’s a beautiful one, but it is still a prison). She is missing the interaction with her kids and grandkids, and even the great-grandchildren she has. And we came to the almost inevitable conclusion that we need to move her up here, to be with me (I am the oldest and sort of expected this to happen – eventually). But, to actually live with me. And now my stomach is in knots. We are almost an empty nest, and I just turned 60 years old. My mom is 87 and healthier than I am (other than this horrific disease)! I. Am. Scared.

forgetmenot

God never gives us more than we can handle. I know this. I do. He also has a great sense of humor and irony. Do you see that flower up there? The Forget-Me-Not? It is the flower of the Alzheimer’s movement, as is the color purple. I recently got my first tattoo (don’t be too shocked) and it is purple. I love purple. I reside in Alaska. Do you know what the Alaskan state flower is? Yep – the Forget-Me-Not. See? God is smiling at me and my panic.

“…but if any widow has children or grandchildren, they must first learn to practice piety in regard to their own family and to make some return to their parents; for this is acceptable in the sight of God.” 1 Timothy 5:4

Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be prolonged in the land which the LORD your God gives you.” Exodus 20:12

Even to your old age I will be the same, And even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; And I will bear you and I will deliver you.” Isaiah 46:4

But if anyone does not provide for his own, and especially for those of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” 1 Timothy 5:8

On and on go the admonishments to care for one another. The admonishment is not just to our own flesh and blood – “So then, while we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, and especially to those who are of the household of the faith.” (Galatians 6:10). We need to be taken outside of ourselves and our own needs, to care for the “least of these.” (Matthew 25:10). And I am being called in a very personal way, to care for my mom. And still, I am scared.

empty-nest

It’s rather ironic that we just celebrated our youngest son’s 18th birthday and are talking almost daily about his future and college and becoming an adult…yada yada yada…and then I talk to my sister. I jokingly offered to let my mom live with her. She said that she and her husband are actually thinking of retirement and selling their big house…maybe even living in a motorhome for awhile. They love having an empty nest. Ha-Ha. Further irony? We downsized when we relocated here. We gave away and sold everything and put what we could squeeze into a 25-foot u-haul trailer to live here. My husband and I were recently discussing our dreams of a camper/trailer we could haul all over the state, going from fishing hole to fishing hole, in our old age. Sans kids. Possibly allowing grandchildren! Ha-Ha.

I am flummoxed. There is just so much to consider, becoming the caregiver of an elderly relative. We did that for my paternal grandmother. We still had all our kids at home. She lived with us during her final stages of life, which ended up being just a few months. The house we owned was large enough to accommodate her and her hospital bed, as well as all the other equipment and space she needed. We met an amazing hospice staff and they came and went at all hours of the day and night. But it was such a blessing to share in that with my grandma. I treasured those last months and moments with her. I was glad to do it. I loved her dearly, and still I miss her. She made us laugh all the time. She was like a second mother to me. My mom and I have always had a rather contentious relationship, because I am somewhat like her, but also like my dad. I infuriate and frustrate her because of how much I am like my dad, her ex-husband. I moved out the moment I was 18 and only moved home when I was around 20-21, coincidentally right when my brother moved out to get married, and my dad left. I was there with her through her divorce and subsequent bout of breast cancer. But that was more than 40 years ago now. We held each other many days and nights, mourning the loss of our family unit, and her health. It was a devastating time for both of us. My mom is not a quitter. During those months of radiation and chemo, she announced, “This is not what will take me out.” And she meant it. She fought cancer with everything she was. She asked the American Cancer Society to leave our house one afternoon, disappearing into the back of the house. She called me back to her and said, “Please ask them to leave. If I listen to how depressing they are, this disease will kill me. And I have no intention of dying. Get rid of them!” And I did!  She is cognizant that she has Alzheimer’s. She hates it. When she is lucid and we can talk about it, she bemoans the fact that she knows she forgets things and people. She thinks others will think she is stupid, because she cannot remember them or events. We re-assure her that she is not stupid. We just repeat things so she can grasp onto them. But nowadays, that ability to grasp new things is passing her by. And her ability to remember all of the people in her family is also passing her by.

sadfaceAlzheimer’s is one of the worst diseases I know. My mom is a healthy woman. She isn’t on medication, except for the Alzheimer meds, which are no longer effective. She has only gone to doctors for illnesses, like her cancer or when she hurt her shoulder and needed surgery. She rarely even catches a cold. But this disease is ravaging her mind. And it hurts to see. If my mom knew she was like she is, she would hate it. She was always so put together. Her outfits always matched. She still wears matching jewelry, even if it is the same couple of pieces every day. She always wears make up (which I don’t even do) and her hair is always done just so. She used to iron her denim pants. (She never calls them jeans). My mom is a proper, little, British woman. And her life in New Zealand and her years as a young woman are now where she is living, mentally, most of the time. And it makes me so very sad. She remembers the 60s and 70s…she recalls outfits and events from the 1950s. But she does not remember some of the people she knows and loves. And that is hard. And I am scared of having the responsibility for her. Total responsibility. It is almost like thinking of having another baby in a couple of months, at my age.I just had a grandchild! My fifth. That I can do. But this? It intimidates me.

alzheimerssign

And every time I forget something, I wonder if I am getting this disease. Each time life gets confusing, or when I try to recall something and can only conjure a white wall in my mind, I am fearful. Will this be my fate? My dad is now 90 and has dementia. Because it is a type and function of Alzheimer’s disease, and it is on both sides of my genetic tree, will this be me in 20 years? My mom is only 27 years older than I am. Am I headed in this direction, too? How will I care for my mom if I start slipping away? Will my husband, or my sons, be burdened with all of my family? Will I become that which I fear in my mom? That is a terrifying thought.

But back to my panic and my faith. Back to my current reality. I know that the Lord will watch over us. I know that He intends for us to bond, as a family. Caring for my mom takes me way outside of my comfort zone, but perhaps it is where I need to go. One of my friends, and a leader in my company, said in a live feed yesterday, that whatever it is we are fearful of, is probably what we need to tackle next. And I am deeply fearful of taking care of my mom. My entire world will be turned upside down. We will have to move. Seriously. Like in the next few months move. And packing up this house and relocating again – I am seriously tired of moving. Horribly tired of moving. I don’t know how many moves I have left in me. It’s that bad. We’ve been here for almost 5 years, so I guess it’s time! Ha-Ha-Ha. But this move is so very different. This is a necessity for my mom. For her last years. I am not ready to say goodbye to my parents, to my mom. It frightens me because it is sort of like a final curtain; a devastating ending. I know it is inevitable. I know time marches on and we all come to an end. But having it thrust into your face, into your little cocoon, that is a different experience. I love my mom. Sometimes I need my mom. But she is no longer capable of being my mom, in the sense of me relying on her. And I know, that in her lucid moments, being dependent on me is not something she is comfortable with. Getting in a nurse to assist her is not something she will like, but having me bathe her or dress her would make her even more uncomfortable, although I have done it in the past. The first time I saw what her mastectomy honestly was, and when I had to assist her with her bandages, I broke down (literally fell onto the floor) and just cried. She was standing there, wet and naked in the bathtub/shower, trying to comfort me! My mom is an amazing woman, truly she is. Difficult? Yes. But I will treasure those moments when my mom held me while I was sick. When she held me as I wept. When she comforted ME – over the loss of her breasts and her health and her marriage. My mom has done so much for me, just being her, in all that she is. And I am so not ready for this last stage. Being with my mom, as her caregiver, is almost as frightening to me as losing her, once and for all.

alzheimers-fight

 

“Lord, wrap your arms around those hurting today…”

In a roundabout way, I want to address the election, but on the other hand, I want to steer clear! Conundrum! Weather on! We are all in this together.

2 Chronicles 7:14 – “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.”

I attended an evening of prayer and worship that was hosted at a movie theater, and was hosted by Kirk Cameron, of TV fame. I spent over two hours with other people, listening to Christian leaders talk about our country, where it was, and where it could go. We sang, we prayed, we listened. It was an amazing evening. And it was very worth my time. Being staunchly pro-life, I use that as my chalk line. As most of you know, that is an issue I do not, and will not, budge on. That being said, I could not vote the Democratic ticket. But neither am I a good Republican. I am too conservative for either, and find myself leaning more towards a Constitutionalist, rather than an Independent, although that is what I am officially called. But this time, I was in that “drain the swamp” mode and wanted a clean slate, from top to bottom. I don’t think either side truly represents me, nor the people of this country. Both sides are corrupt, with the exception of a few. But I also felt that it was time for a bull-dog business person to clean things up; to look at our country with a business eye. I certainly am not allowed to operate my household budget like D.C. has done with the Federal Budget. Oh my. How can you donate millions for war or earthquake relief when you cannot pay your own country’s debts? When you cannot pay for the basic necessities of your people? Why send billions overseas when there are needs at home? I do not advocate isolationism, although I am thinking that we live in a glass house and should not be throwing stones. We are not the world’s babysitter. We do, however, affect the entire world by how we manage our own affairs.

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I’m not sure if this was the hand of God, or if the silent majority woke up and wasn’t going to stay at home any longer. The working man, who shoulders the majority of the burden of financing this country, decided that complacency wasn’t working any longer. That most of us were tired of political correctness. We were tired of paying more for everything and having something like 90 million out of work. And having so many of those even stop trying to get a job. Or the fact that Obamacare does not work and it is costing more than we have. It is cheaper in some cases to take the IRS fine than it is to pay those premiums! Or that we have had Common Core foisted upon us, and if the recent days of rioting by college students, and even high school students, is any indication, it is not working. We have been subjected to more than 40 years of the ideology of socialism and communism slowly seeping into our thought processes, that we did not even notice. Until this election cycle. Until Wikileaks. Until the media was shown to have lied to the people and been a part of this vast manipulation of our thoughts and actions. I do know that we were offered, time after time, the option to pray with others for our nation. We were offered olive branches from conservatives, across the aisle, only to have them slapped out of their hands. There is no camaraderie between the political elites and those of us who actually pay their salaries. They forgot who their bosses were – the American people. And we rose up and chose an alternate route. There are those who will say, but without the Electoral College, the other side would have won. But you know, watching all those polling places and the thousands of complaints about voter fraud, I’m going to err on the side of caution. I do not think the popular vote landed where they say it did. I think more votes will come in and need to be added. It takes months for the final count to be tallied. And I believe in our process. I believe in the Electoral College system. It truly works. Thanks be to God that New York or California cannot dictate to me, an Alaskan, what I can or cannot do. The time for the popular vote to count, for President, is in the caucuses and primaries. It is when we choose who will represent us. The popular vote only counts down ticket for federal and local representatives and issues we face, locally. We are not a democracy! We are a Democratic Republic. We select representatives who vote for us, who represent us in Washington. I wish people understood the process, because if they did, I don’t think they’d be rioting and burning the flag.

wait-upon-the-lord

Sort of off-topic, but really not, is the issue today I stumbled across. Make up. Yes, cosmetics. Why do young women spend so much time, effort, and money on make up? They do it when their skin is at its best. Why cover that up? Why not be who you really are? You don’t wear it as a girl; I don’t bother with it as an older woman. What is the point? Well, it is to present our best self for the selection process. Not just for a mate. But we do it for jobs, for our friends, for peer pressure. We pretend to be who we are not. Red hair? Green hair? Covering our gray? Colored contact lenses to change our natural eye color. Then there is plastic surgery and tooth replacements. We wear wigs. We get “human hair” extensions. We pluck, we wax, we color. Why? Why not just celebrate who we are? I have a friend who always wears at least mascara. We became friends our freshman year in high school. I never saw her without make-up until college. It was un-nerving. She looked so innocent and young and beautiful, but she still doesn’t think so. Even at 60, she always has a full face of make-up. And then there is chemical enhancement. We are too nervous to be ourselves, so we take a drink to relax around others. We smoke pot. We drop pills. Anything to improve who we are and what we are doing. I think our country just learned what it is like to rip off the wig, the make-up, the false picture that was painted for us by stump speeches and op ed pieces and false data. The country has been laid bare and I don’t know about you, but it’s un-nerving and this is far more than mascara. We are a mess, my friends. Truly a mess.

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This image is a few years old, but it meant a lot to me. Priests walking with the cross in amongst rioting in eastern Europe. Trying to bring sense to the situation; to bring the peace of Christ to a people who were starving for it and did not even realize it. What is America starving for?

I think we are starving for a place where we feel safe. Where each person is appreciated for their unique gifts they bring to the world. Where we can care for those among us who cannot care for themselves. Where we can offer a fair day’s wage for work. Where we can return dignity and love to places filled with gun shots and hatred, drugs and gangs. Where we can know the preciousness of each life, from a natural conception to a natural death. Where we can work with our hands and produce goods we can be proud of. Did you know that we, as a country, spend more on imports than on exports? We had $189 billion in exports as of September 2016. We had $225 billion in imports for that same period. So we bought more foreign goods than we sold to other countries. Again. Why? Well, it’s cheaper to produce products out of country than in. The costs to do business are so high here. Ask a small business owner. Ask them about Obamacare costs, and unemployment insurance, and minimum wage costs. We need to get back to some basics in our country.

When I was a kid, we went to school at 9 am and were out again at 3 pm. No longer. Kids go in about 7:30am (some places earlier) and some do not get home until 5 pm or later. Our local high school does lunch at 10:30 am. Lunch! Weird. Recess? Short. About 2 a day for 15 minutes each. Not enough to still wiggles in kids. So we medicate them. Yeah. Been there; done that. Had a child drool through two years of school until I just said no and brought them home. We are producing children who are not able to think for themselves, nor are they able to function in the cutthroat world of business. When you get a trophy for just showing up, it is hard when the real world tells you no. Look at our city streets the last couple of days. Millennials were finally told no. And they did not take it well.

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When it comes to the elected officials, they will not affect how our children are raised. That is our job. How our children perceive the world is on us. Our families need prayer now more than ever. Our country needs prayer more than ever. If I saw a video on TV of college students rioting, and saw my child burning our flag and marching shouting the profanities they are shouting, I would weep at my own failure. Why would I think my child would react that way? Being upset about how things turn out is a part of life. Rioting takes this into another realm of unhealthy reactions. I wept when my candidates were defeated over the past two election cycles, but I did not burn my flag. I love my country; I just increased my prayers for her livelihood and safety. I did not threaten to leave (and not follow through on my threats) but I chose to stay and work to make things better. My children learn by my example, by the example of the adults in their lives. I share stories of heroes from history and scripture. I share stories of the martyrs for the faith; of those who gave their all so I am safe in my bed at night. I allow them to witness and experience dissent, but I never allow disrespect nor outright violence against others. I remember once when our eldest son was playing high school baseball. He got so angry at a poor at-bat that he threw the bat. His own coach kicked him out of the game. He told him that he needed to have respect for his teammates, for the game itself, the equipment he was given to use, the officials and their calls, and for himself. The error was his own fault. It was a wise lesson. It affected more than my son – everyone there saw and heard his discipline (he also realized that football, rugby, and ice hockey fit his personality much better). But he also learned to control his reaction to things. It’s something our hedonistic society has not taught our youth. And with so many parents partaking of the “me” generation, they think providing them with stuff and working, rather than being a parent first, is developing their children. It is not. Ask a teacher. We need to get back to family-first and times solely spent with our children. We need to reinstitute reasonable curfews and keep kids at home, rather than wandering the streets. We need to bring our faith back into our families. If you have not prayed for or with your children, or left the Church long ago, God is open-armed and waiting. Praying is nothing more than directing your thoughts to God. He is always listening.

weatherthestorm

We’re in a storm. That is evident. But we can be at peace. We can choose to be at peace. Each morning, when we rise, we choose how our attitudes will be. Start with a grateful heart (you woke up! That’s a plus!) and then move throughout your day, just saying thank you for the little graces thrown your way (the guy who lets you meld on the highway; the coworker who says good morning and means it; the short line at the grocery store; a parking place not too far away in a snow storm; a safe journey home at the end of the day; the family and home you have waiting for you). We can choose to become a part of the solution, or we can remain outside, and a part of the problems we are all facing. We have choices. I would say that America chose on Tuesday. How you choose to proceed is up to you. Choose wisely.

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