AllTheseThings

Another piece of the puzzle

I did wonder why the Americans of Japanese heritage/immigrants living on the West Coast were interned during WWII.  But here is another piece of the puzzle. The Japanese attacked Alaska, and for one year secured one or more of the Aleutian Islands.

http://www.nps.gov/archive/aleu/WWII_in_the_Aleutians.htm


Beth

allthesebeth@yahoo.com

All for a good cause?

I have often been accused of over-thinking a situation. This may well be another one of those times, but this is something I’ve been (over) thinking about recently….

In the church, and especially in small groups, we often meet newcomers who have a lot of material needs. Some of them have just recently fallen on hard times. Others have a long history of calamity.

How sympathetic I am to their situation (and how willing I am to help) is very much tied to which of these groups they fall in to. If they seem to be reasonable people who’ve had bad luck then I generally feel happy to help if I can. If I talk to them and hear about a string of bad decisions (still to be recognised as such) then my alarm bells start ringing and the barriers come up.

Is it our place to judge people in this way? God calls us to help someone in need, but should that help ever be conditional on the recipient having sound judgement? If not, then how can we be sure that our provision for them will really help? 

There is more I could say, but I don’t want to be accused of over-writing as well as over thinking, so I’ll just let you, my fellow Saints and friends, straighten me out.

Philomena

allthesephilomena@yahoo.com

Goodbye, Tim

We lost a wonderful man today -- Tim Russert passed away after being a veritable icon of political journalism.  He was tough, smart and surprisingly fair in a very difficult industry.  He also seemed to be a good family man.  I and many others will miss seeing him interview and give his commentary, particularly this election year.  It won't be the same without him.

Just reminds me that death will come to us all.  Are we ready to meet the Lord?

Lucy

Prep Work

Last week we visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is a favorite spot for my seven year old and me.  After studying Egypt, we spent almost 2 hours in the Egyptian collection; she knew more than the junior college kids falling asleep in front of the Temple of Dandur.  Last month we rented the audio guide and she was engrossed in the Greek and Roman Collection before and after lunch.  But this most recent visit we went because my aunt was visiting. We had not studied any new period closely, so we meandered around.  L. enjoyed the audio tour again, but was more aimless. (The biblical imagery was understandable to her.  My 4 year old and I reasoned out who we thought was the bad thief and who was the good thief.  She had good reasons, but the artists were not as interested in the thieves as we were.)

Anyway.  What struck me following our most recent tour was how much L. benefited from studying a period before seeing the great works from that period.  It was the same reaction I had today at Muscoot Farms; the animals fascinated the children: the farm tools they had no concept of were ignored.  Being a homeschooling mom, this is helping me focus what we study and where we go for field trips.

Still Learning,

Beth

allthesebeth@yahoo.com

Set free

There have been a lot of worship songs floating around in my head recently. Today, these words are going round and round as I work…..

“My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy rains
Unending love, Amazing grace”

I have no idea why. We didn’t sing them last Sunday. But nevertheless it is interesting to think about the words. “My chains are gone, I’ve been set free”. I just looked at the guy who sits next to me at work and wondered what they would mean to him, a pretty hardcore atheist. To him it might be like a foreign language, or at the very least, some old fashioned words written by a religious fanatic.

But I wonder if I can relate to them any more than he can. Did I ever feel like I was “in chains”? If I didn’t, can I really appreciate being “set free”? But it is good this morning to have those words in my head (coming from who-knows-where) and to remember that sin is slavery and life with Christ is freedom. Whether I realise it at the time or not, I was in chains and I put myself back in chains every day when I chose anything other than God. It’s sad when we see it the other way around: sin becomes “freedom” and God is oppressive. I know that’s the prevailing wisdom out in the world, and probably in the thoughts of my friend in the next cubicle.

I’m thinking about breaking out in song to see if I can get the message across. Although, I might find myself back in chains when they lock me up for being a religious fanatic!

Philomena

allthesephilomena@yahoo.com  

Fan

I was never a groupie; the number of concerts I went to can be counted on one hand.  But two days ago I enjoyed an hour as a fan and went with my mother to a book reading by author Leif Enger.  He read from his new book, "So Brave, Young, and Handsome."

Enger's first novel "Peace Like a River" sold 1 million copies, and now seven years later his second novel is doing well, too.  They both take place in the MidWest among manly men; his audience was composed of men and women.  I try to read 21st century novels, but their angst and overtly base descriptions send me away.  Not so with Enger.  I can read his books without wondering what I'll need to filter out in the next chapter.  But more attractive than the lack of horror is the numinous, all-permeating kindness, gentleness, mercy and attendant humor.  Enger loves his characters and during his reading spoke of them as if they were real - outside of himself.  He smiles at their faults and loves them anyway.  Both of Enger's books search for redemption - and his bad guy is searching for justice, even immortality:  but an earthly one.

I cannot recommend Enger's books highly enough. His writing is poetic, funny, earthy; he also knows his history.

Reading in Peace and Joy,

Beth

allthesebeth@yahoo.com

How about some new soccer GOALS?

So we're getting ready to have the final game of the spring soccer season, and I get the expected e-mail about gifts for the coaches, pizza and cake for the kids, and medals.  Ah, the medals.  At least it's not trophies, I thought.  Last season, all the kids got trophies with their names on them.  They were thrilled... until they got home, and the trophies were completely ignored.

This time, when the e-mail came around, I had to speak up.  I told my husband, "I'm going to suggest we don't give out awards to all the players."

Ever the diplomat, he said, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

“What?  When we were young we never got trophies unless we were MVP or Most Improved Player or something like that.” 

He said, “I know – it was the same for us.  But it’s a different world now.  Now people get a trophy just for showing up.” 

I said, “Actually, you don’t even need to show up.  You just need your name on the roster.” 

At the risk of offending, I sent the e-mail.  Do you know what?  Everyone agreed!!  One mom even wrote, "Amen. I agree 100%, I just didn't have the guts to suggest something so countercultural!  With your suggestion as the excuse, however, I'll put it to the group!"

Is it any wonder that college graduates expect to make 6 figures right out of school?  Why even get a job when you can live at home and mooch off your parents?

Youth soccer today has been stripped of many of the beneficial aspects of sports.  The coaches don't keep score lest a player feel "inadequate."  Let me tell you, every kid on the field is keeping score.  My 5-year-old son made the mistake last week of saying, "We're gonna BEAT 'EM!" right before kick off.  The coach quickly corrected his exuberance.

You know, if you take away the score, you also take away most of the incentive to try.  And then, give every kid a trophy regardless of whether he even moved his butt off the sideline, and you render every trophy meaningless.

Competition is real-life, people.  Even when children are children, a little competition helps them work hard and gain a sense of accomplishment.  If a few tears are shed too, it won't kill them.  Frankly, we're killing our kids more by coddling them and rewarding them for nothing.

This soccer mom has had enough,

Lucy P.

Finley's Birthday

This is a remarkable story about a mother who--mercifully--failed in her attempt to abort her son.  She had lost a child previously to a kidney disease, and her second son has kidney problems.  Fearing the emotional trauma of losing another child to kidney problems, she thought she would abort baby number three--Finley.  The mom had the procedure, which failed.  She learned it didn't work weeks later upon feeling "fluttering" in her tummy and returned to the hospital.  Learning the boy had survived, she decided to carry him to term.

Finley was born and has only minor kidney problems.  Doctor's anticipate he will grow and have a 'normal' life.  Hopefully someone will follow up with Finley and his mom after his first steps, first day of school, prom, graduation, wedding, or child's birth, etc. to see if they think mom made the right decision. 

Thomas More

allthesemore@yahoo.com

Codependent Driving

Driving in Westchester County, just north of New York City, has healing properties.  Of course one is always considering ones mortality, which is good.  But I was also able to laugh at myself the other day.  Driving 9 miles over the speed limit, the pharisee in me looked in my rear view mirror to see someone on my tail.  I pulled over and watched the car weave in and out of traffic.  Years ago, I remember thinking, "I should stay in the fast lane and drive what I think is a reasonable speed and not let someone pass because then I will be allowing/condoning their speeding behavior."  That reaction is textbook codependency.  It is the same thinking that leads a wife to pour out her husband's alcohol so that there is none in the house.  I can change behavior by controlling the environment.  Most of you know that is not so. It is really exciting to me to be figuring this out, even in my fourth decade of life.

As I have mentioned before, Al-anon is new in my life and has been hugely helpful.  Moving over and letting the driver make his own choices and not watching for him to be pulled over or in an accident ("I told you so.  If only you had listened to me, this wouldn't have happened.") was exciting and freeing.

I have to go to the grocery store today - who knows what the roads will teach me today.

Beth

allthesebeth@yahoo.com

Verbal Cues

This past week I had the privilege to be part of a group of seminary students who were being trained to visit hospital patients.  One might think (I did) that visiting previously unknown patients is fairly straightforward stuff:  simply go in to a person’s room who, say, is suffering from cancer, and exercise the same social and listening skills that we wield at a drinks party.  Of course, the man at the drinks party has a tremendous ego who can’t listen to another person’s words and is more concerned about himself and how he is perceived than listening to the content of speech across from him.  At least I am, such is the grip of vanity.  But a patient who has saline solution instead of a gin and tonic, and who doesn’t care in the least about YOU has, naturally, different needs.

Some of those needs come out in verbal cues.  The female readers of this blog probably already know this by instinct, but for a tone-deaf male like me, this is news.  Little things, like when the patient says,

“It’s been a long stay – and the food stinks.”  Or,

“You’re the first person who has come by to visit.” Or,

“It’s a beautiful day outside – I hope I can be discharged tomorrow.”

….are all like doorways.  The emotion, the worries, the thing that concerns them are floating up to the surface of their conversation, and in their way, asking for attention. The teacher at the hospital this week gave as much help as she could to assist us in catching these cues, perhaps knocking at the doorways such conversations present, and helping a patient go one step further in expressing what it is that most troubles them.

I do not mean to parade a discourse about active listening, but the wonder at how often people mention things in the course of their speech which indicate hurt, worry, fear, and loneliness.  And it’s not only in hospitals.

St. Nicodemus