A Voice of Hope

Choices

I've been trying to wrap my brain around how to express in words the deep emotions and thoughts I have regarding recent events. I've come to the conclusion that there is no concise way. There are times when words are insufficient; when they almost trivialize rather than explain.

I've been down this road before, emotionally speaking. I've dealt with unexpected tragedy, calamity, depression, disappointment. However, I've not dealt with it on such a large scale.

Where I am now is surrender; acceptance; and maybe a little serenity.

Look, I could go on and on at my anger and frustration over all that has happened to cause this current mess, and on and on about my fears for the future. But none of that will change reality.

We are in deep shit (pardon my french). We are in a recession and rapidly sliding headlong into a depression. And it's not nearly over yet; buckle up, guys. It's going to be a bumpy ride. And when it is finally over, life in the US will not be the same again; at least not in our lifetimes. The US itself may even cease to exist. We are ripe for attack from without and for tyranny from within.*  Whether we implode or explode is ultimately irrelevant; what is relevant at this moment is that we have some decisions to make. And they may not be the ones you think.

A week and a half ago I posted a video in the (ungodly) early dawn hours. It was of Luci Swindoll talking about life, God's grace, and choices. I titled the post "This is the day the Lord has made... let us rejoice and be glad in it!" And I have to say, as the day progressed I thought that was an incredibly ironic title, and even more ironic post content, for such a day as that: an historic stock market drop of 777** points. I think God was really trying to get His point across to me. ;)

Here's the point: In that video Luci points out that God is always working, always moving, in everything that happens. He is always working things out for good for those who will just trust and rest in His grace, His love.

My grace is enough; it's all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness. -- 2 Cor 12:9 The Message

I love one line Luci says; she says, "...the trouble with life is it's so daily; it just shows up and there it is, another day and we have to deal with it."

Ain't that the truth.

It can be incredibly taxing on those of us struggling with depression, addiction, the effects of trauma and abuse, mounting financial pressures.... the list is endless these days. I know people who have lost half of their retirement already; others who are about to lose their home; others who have already lost their job; and others who are fighting for their lives right now. I know the feeling of laying my head on the pillow at night, grateful I've made it through another day, and yet begging God as I drift off to sleep to take me Home during the night because I don't want to live anymore; I just want to go Home to eternal rest. I just want to be in His arms and not have to deal with this crap anymore. I know that feeling because I still struggle with it from time to time. And I know others who do too.

Luci, on the video, goes on to say that we can either be positive about another day showing up, or negative about it. We have a choice. She said she chooses to be happy, "because God in His goodness has given us His grace" to get through it.

Here's what I'm learning: When you choose to trust God, to rest in His grace and love even when He takes you into poverty, pain, illness, tragedy, trauma, catastrophe,... He shows up. And He infuses His strength and a sweet serenity into your soul. You're not going to run a marathon or jump and shout "praise Jesus!" You just find that you have enough; you have what you need to get through. It's not the way you wanted things to go; it's not how you planned it out, but you are okay, and you realize you are going to be okay even if you lose everything.

I find myself clinging to a lot of phrases I once found trite, shallow. One of the ones at the top of that list was that verse I quoted on September 29th, "This is the day the Lord has made..." blah blah blah. I always heard it from peppy, perpetually happy church-pod people. You know the type; those Christians who don't ever seem to get upset, or sad, or have a bad day; that no matter what happens they cheerily say, "Praise the Lord!"

Gag me.

But on September 29th I kept remembering not only the video I'd posted, but things I'd heard at the Women of Faith conference the weekend before.

Job is quoted as saying, in essence, "the Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord," upon learning he had just lost everything he valued -- not just his wealth and possessions, but his children. ALL of them.  I always had this feeling that Job was one of those church-pod people, at least at the beginning of the story, because it doesn't seem he was even sad. What is usually left out of the telling is that just before his infamous line, "Job stood up and tore his robe in grief. Then he shaved his head and fell to the ground to worship." (Job 1:20)

He did the things one does when they are grieving deeply. He did not hold back his emotions, or put on a happy face. He did not pretend that all was peachy. I am convinced that he was sobbing, that falling to the ground wasn't so much in honor of God as it was out of utter agony of his darkest night of the soul. And he just figured, while I'm down here I might as well give God the praise He deserves. 'Cause He's still God and is therefore still worthy of praise no matter what happens to me.

I'm convinced it probably took him a hour or more to speak his famous words, and I'm convinced they were said through sobs of a grieving, anguished father:

“I came naked from my mother’s womb,
      and I will be naked when I leave.
   The Lord gave me what I had,
      and the Lord has taken it away.
   Praise the name of the Lord!” (vs 21)

I'm convinced that that last line was not spoken like a pod-person, all cheery and happy, but rather was spoken in raspy sobbing gasps; not because life is all sunshine and rainbows, but because God is still God and Job still trusted His grace and His love.

I no longer think of "this is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!" (Psalm 118:24) as a trite, annoying phrase that must be spoken with church-pod people syrupy-ness. It is now the cry of my soul every morning; through tears, through fear, through crankiness, through frustration, through anger, through whatever emotion I experience, my soul now cries, "Papa! You made this day, I will rejoice in YOU; that You are still God, and that You are still able and willing to restore me to sanity this day, regardless of what happens around me or to me. I will still praise You." Sometimes I sound like Whoopi Goldberg in "Ghost," when she's having a hard time letting go of the $4 million check: "I will!!" :) But I've discovered that even when I struggle to give it up for God, He honors it by showing up and bringing His strength and serenity with Him. And He even tells me He thinks I'm wonderful. :)

So here's the bottom line, as I see it:

We have a choice about how we face this unprecedented time in our history. We can get angry and depressed, rail against those we think are responsible and scream at God for the injustices He's allowing to happen to us. We can bury our heads in the sand and deny that anything is wrong or broken in our country. Or we can embrace life and make the most of every moment. It used to be said, "eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die." But I say enjoy every moment as if it is the best, most precious time you'll ever have; the last time you'll be able to what you are doing at that moment. Because it just may be.

Live in the moment, guys. Live day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time and suck the marrow out of every second of life. Tomorrow will probably be worse than today, so enjoy today to the fullest! (how's that for positive thinking! ;)) But seriously... Live! Find the joy in the simple, ordinary things. And when you find yourself struggling with fear or anger, or denial or apathy, cry out to God to give you the serenity to accept the things you cannot change. Because He will show up.

I couldn't end without including the scene in "Ghost" to which I refer. It's at the end of this clip -- but the whole thing is worth watching. I love Whoopi! (and this is soooo me in this scene!)

*The conclusions I have come to are based on solid, hard-core research. You may vehemently disagree with me, but that will not change my opinion of what is happening, why, and where we are headed. I have been doing a lot of research, a lot of study, a lot of digging and searching -- which I could not even summarize here without writing a twenty-five page thesis paper, complete with another five pages of bibliography and citations, which would most assuredly bore all of you to tears. :) Not to mention frustrate me to have to post all those links and sources....

** It hit me with incredible humor tonight as I wrote this.... 777 is allegedly "God's number." Seven tends to represent completeness in Scripture, so it is sometimes touted by religious folks that God's number is 7; and three sevens in a row is a trinity, don'cha know. :) Yes, that's right folks, it is MY fault the market crashed on Sep 29th.God was working overtime to teach me an object lesson -- that He is truly able and willing to take care of me no matter what happens, if I will just trust and rest in Him. Sorry ya'll had to get caught in my lesson!

So This is How Liberty Dies

With cheers and thunderous applause. (Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith)

At 1:21 p.m., applause and cheers echoed through the House chamber as the number of “aye” votes crossed the threshold needed for passage with just seconds remaining in the official 15-minute voting period. -- NYTimes.com Oct 3, 2008

The Most Important vs. The Not-So-Important

Where do we draw the line on publicly memorializing the dead, or whom do we memorialize? How do we choose who's honored and who's not?

My friends KatRose and Marti have brought up some very solid, valid points in their comments about public grieving. I thought to address them in the comment section, but felt they deserve a post of their own.

KatRose hits the core of what I've been thinking when she says,

I'm not suggesting we shouldn't feel for the people directly and indirectly involved. But is it justified to have a national moment of silence for the dead when the vast majority of us have never been to VT, met a single student or even were aware of the college until this happened? I feel badly for the families and friends of the dead. I feel awful that the school has to deal with the emotional, mental and financial aftermath of this gunman's handiwork. But is flying flags at half-mast (which was happening all over Vegas and LA this week), something that should be done for a localized event?

I have to say I heartily agree. I feel so sad for all involved too. But what was the deal with President Bush ordering flags to be at half staff all week? At first I thought it was just my company, because one of our own had a child wounded in the shooting (and that shows you how much I notice flags outside my own work campus). I thought it was a kind gesture, even though that co-employee lives in Virginia. However, on Friday I noticed the flag at the Post Office also flying at half staff. Shouldn't that be reserved for dignitaries, veterans, soldiers and true heroes?

I don't mean to make light of the students who died or were wounded, but I've yet to hear any stories of true heroism among them. Most just didn't have the time to react, or were just trying desperately to escape. What's happening in Iraq and Afghanistan every single day, that's heroism. Soldiers going into dangerous neighborhoods in order to root out the enemy and restore peace, driving down dangerous roads littered with road-side bombs in order to provide a fighting chance for those who really desire democracy, and crawling into burning vehicles, risking their very lives to save the life of just one fallen comrade. The VT shootings are tragic, yes, but they are not so tragic nor heroic to warrant our national symbol lowered to the mourning position. if we're going to do it for them, then why not all the other school violence? Domestic violence every day? Every officer killed in the line of duty every day? Do you see what I mean? Lowering our national flag is supposed to mark a significant national loss, not individual tragedies. 

Indeed, even soldiers are wondering what's going on. One soldier took the time to write an opinion piece questioning why Bush would order the flags lowered for students of what now looks for all the world like a random act of violence done by a very sick individual, but states will not lower it for the soldiers from their state who die protecting our rights to freedom (and flag lowering) every single day. What gives?

Marti brings up another issue that's even closer to my heart: people who are hurting, and our international mission/purpose as a Community of followers of Jesus.

...at a church retreat this weekend they had us read out the names of the kids who died. Thirty-some senseless deaths... but are they more tragic than others? I felt the same twinge I'd felt at the office, trying to decide if we needed to pray about the Virginia situation, instead, when I had prepared stuff for us to pray about regarding the significant religious persecution going on in Ethiopia and Nigeria; more believers have been martyred in both places recently. (emphasis mine)

A church has daily updates on the kid with cancer while nobody notices the old woman wasting away in depression. Or worse, bitterness. Not so cuddly.

So: what gets attention, what does not, is not fair, is not even.

What is it that causes us to be more moved by students killed in a random act of violence than the thousands killed purposely and specifically because of their religious beliefs? The former is just tragic, while the latter is an abomination that ought to stir some semblance of righteous anger within us. Hopefully enough to do something.

Church, what is it about us/in us that we  are more apt to pray for a boy with cancer than search for, pray for and walk beside the bitter woman struggling with depression? Why are we more apt to pray for people hurting in another state than we are for our own persecuted brothers and sisters in another country?

What are we reminding ourselves of when we "read out the names of the kids who died"? What purpose does that serve, really? Yeah, okay, God can use anything to bring our attention back to Himself. But It seems to me all we're doing with that is reminding ourselves of our own mortality, rather than turning our attention toward God. Shouldn't we, instead, be reminding ourselves of our responsibilities before God to the world? Look, I'm not talking about America here. At least not in the America The Nation sense. I'm talking about followers of Christ who by living here in America have been given incredible blessings from God when He determined this time and this place in history for us to be born.

"From one man he made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us."  Acts 17:26-27 (emphasis mine)

We, the community of followers of Jesus in the US, have been chosen and determined by God to be Americans at this very time. Appointed by God, ya'll! That's huge! Do you get it? He. Chose. Us. Why? Beats the hell outa me. We ain't nothing special. But here we are. And with great privilege and blessing comes great responsibility.

We have responsibility to speak out about the suffering of our brothers and sisters around the world, to remind each other daily of our blessings and of their need, to do something about it and to pray fervently and continuously for them. It may sound like a piddly, weak-hearted thing, but sometimes the greatest gift you could give someone is your fervent continual prayers. I cannot explain to you how it works - and this post is not the place to try - but I know from experience that prayer really does unleash God's healing redeeming saving power on those who are the focus of your prayer.

We don't need to remind each other of our own mortality. That is made far too obvious to all of us in the everyday minutia of our lives. It is so easy for me to get so sucked into picking lint out of my own navel! I don't need encouragement from my spiritual Family to do more of that. What I do need is continual reminders that there is life outside Lu's Little World. I need to step into a moment like the one Marti led and hear about my fellow followers of Jesus who are dying because of their unwavering commitment to Him.

And lets step out of religiosity for a moment... I need to be reminded there are children dying every day in Sudan, running for their very lives and praying for just one night of peaceful uninterrupted sleep. There are whole families dying from lack of food and potable water in Ethiopia and Somalia, ethnic groups persecuted and oppressed in China, parents fearing for their lives and the lives of their children in war-ravaged Iraq, innocent people dying in suicide bombings all over the world, women bought sold and horribly abused as sex slaves in Thailand, survivors of the tsunami still struggling to survive in Indonesia, families still living in squaller in New Orleans nearly two years after Katrina... The list goes on and on. I need to be reminded of these things. I need someone to tell me to get my head out of my ass and pay attention to the world, otherwise I will spend the rest of my life contemplating my own colon. And let me tell you, that is not a beautiful, life-affirming, God-honoring thing.

It's part of the job of Leadership to steer us, focus us, on the Most Important and teach us by example and prodding to let go of the Not So Important. When someone is hurting, to them that is Most Important, and often they feel it needs to be most important to everyone. Indeed, to others around them it rightly ought to be. But as a whole community, whether we speak of our national community or our spiritual community, that individual hurt may not be The Most Important. We need leaders who can discern what is Most Important and can gently but firmly, with compassion for the individual hurts, keep us focused on that. Bush used to be that kind of leader. I think he slipped up here.

But Marti --- well in you, my friend and once-leader, I have such great faith and confidence. You are a discerning and wise leader. Grief may cloud your personal vision right now, but God guides you even when you aren't aware. I have no doubt you were able to determine His desire for that moment, and that God honored your willingness to wrestle with the question of what is Most Important.

A Time To...

Nearly 4 years ago I lost both my parents within 6 days of each other. A few days later my overseas missionary team, which was highly dysfunctional to begin with, began a painful implosion, and I made a choice a few months later to stay home and get healthy rather than go back overseas and serve in my emotionally crippled state. In just a few short months I had lost my parents, my sense of "family", my job, my home, my career and my dreams. I was devastated. And my life was decimated.  I was told by three different counselors that I had enough losses tallied up to "send me to Mars and back," or at least to a loony-bin for a bit. One of them at least still seems to marvel that I was still walking and talking and functioning in the world at that point.

I think have a pretty good idea what grief is.

Over at Kat Coble's blog-house there's a discussion on public grief going on. Kat (both of the Kats in my life, actually) is always good at making me think. I guess this is why she won the Thinking Blogger Award. Doh. At any rate, Kat honestly asked, Does grief now need to be public in order to be real?

What a powerful, meaty question.

I have watched the public response to the Virginia Tech tragedy with a mix of curiosity and sadness. As someone who's lost loved ones (I kinda dislike the triteness of that phrase, but it serves me well here), I know all to well the agony the next year holds for the families and friends of the dead. But truthfully I feel more pain and sorrow for my boss, who just unexpectedly lost his mom, than I do for the strangers in Virginia. Its not that I don't feel for them or have compassion for their loss. Its just that I'm not connected to them. And therein lies my curiosity with the public grief currently sweeping the nation over this tragedy. What is it that causes us human beings to be swept up in other's emotions?  And must grief now be public to truly be grief? If we don't grieve publicly, does it mean we are unfeeling, disconnected and cold?

I struggled with the question of public grief a lot at the time of my parents' deaths because in the beginning I felt only moments of agony (grief) followed by long stretches of blissful quiet nothingness. Because I didn’t cry at their memorial services I thought there must something really, really wrong with me -- aren't you supposed to cry at your parents funerals?? I began to be convinced I must be shamefully disconnected from my own self and emotions. Turns out I was, but without the shame. It's called the “shock” stage of grief and it is a blessed, blessed thing to which I sometimes wish I could briefly revisit.

Anyway... I’ve since realized that I can no more predict how I will react in the face of painful, terrible loss than I can predict the weather in Tennessee. Nothing is normal so everything is normal.

The movie “The Queen” addresses this issue of public versus private grief in such a powerful way. It really made me re-think how I looked at the Royal Family during the public mourning of Diana’s death. And it reminded me of how most of my own grief has been quite blessedly private.

In just the last decade our country has had many reasons to mourn. Columbine, September 11th, the Iraq War, and now the Virginia Tech shootings, just to name a few. We've had a good deal of tragedy. Yet realistically, our parents and grandparents had much, much more. Vietnam, JFK's assassination, Martin Luther King's assassination, Korea, World War II, the Depression, World War I... And that's just the national ones. There are countless other more personal, private tragedies for each one of them, made all the worse from ours by the lack of medical technologies and psychological understandings. Us Gen-Xers and Y-ers and the Boomers just haven't had life all that tough in comparison.

Yet we seem to be the most melodramatic when it comes to public grief. Don't we? I'm not saying our parents and grandparents didn't publicly grieve. I'm saying we have a tendency to be so much more morbidly fascinated with and compelled to grieve publicly for people we do not know than they were. And I rather feel that most of what I see today in the way of public grieving is more of either an emotional mob mentality grief, or a misplaced focus of grief.

What I mean by the first is like what you see in preschool when one kid is really crying out of hurt or fear and the rest of the group follows suit.  It's not that the other kids are faking it (if you've had to deal with this lovely phenomena, you know they're not!), its just that the first child's pain is so real and powerful that the rest become frightened to tears by the possibility that something that bad is coming for them too and the only way they know how to respond is to cry hysterically.

You see this with high school girls too. I remember some kid at my high school, not horrendously popular but known, died in a car crash (involving drunk driving) and the next day nearly every single girl on campus (and a surprisingly large amount of guys) all crying hysterically very publicly for the next couple of weeks. The school even called in a grief counselor to help get things back under control. Now, this was a school of several thousand students. My graduating class alone was around 1400, so even if this guy was Mr.-King-of-popularity - which he most definitely was NOT - that many girls could not have known him personally enough to be driven mad with grief by his death.

Sometimes the power of someone's grief touches some wound, some fear or some pain at the core of who we are. We cannot identify that thing that was touched, we only know the touching caused searing pain or overwhelming fear and we respond with powerful emotions of our own, that others and often we ourselves mistake for grief.

What I mean by the second is that all too often we in America (or perhaps its all of western society) are, I think, convinced grief is about the people we lose whether we know them or not when nothing could be further from the truth. Grief is not about them, it is about us. It’s about what WE have lost. We grieve for ourselves and how our lives will never be the same because of what we have lost.

Nor is grief limited to people. It’s also about dreams, jobs, careers, homes, cities and towns, places, things, ideals… anything we have lost that deeply meant something to us. So many things in our lives die and deserve to be properly grieved! Yet I think people in America these days feel we cannot grieve over anything but people.

So our national grief over September 11th, became more about the people who died rather than what we truly lost as individuals and collectively as a nation. What tragedy! What a way to compound tragedy. What we who didn’t know anyone in the Towers lost as individuals was our sense of security, our sense of safety in our own homes, workplaces and towns, our sense of immortality, our innocence of the realities of war…. But because it’s socially unacceptable to grieve these seemingly selfish and trivial things when thousands have lost parents, siblings, spouses, children, lovers and dear friends, we take our grief and (mis)place it onto people we don’t know and claim we mourn their loss.

Aw, come on people! We need to grieve what WE lost. I wept bitterly over September 11th because I lost a great deal. No, I didn't lose someone I loved, but dang, I lost the nation I thought I lived in! I lost the state of security and safety I thought existed around me. I lost my ability to trust foreigners - and I HATE that! You lost a great deal too. And even though the Virginia Tech shootings don't have the national impact that September 11th did, there are still countless parents who suddenly lost any sense of safety for their children in college and students lost a sense of safety and stability in their college lives. Those are things worth grieving. And when we deny ourselves that time, and worse yet, deny we are truly grieving for those things by claiming our grief is for the dead, we rob ourselves of the chance to heal from that tragedy.

That is not to say that we don’t grieve with the families who lost people they loved in the Towers, or at the University this week. We feel for them; we feel sadness and empathy for the loss of the ones they love in their lives. BUT What we grieve personally is whatever we personally, intimately lost in that tragedy, and for most of us it isn’t people.

I think another thing we grieve but (mis)place onto anonymous people, is our loss/lack of deep connection with others. Stay with me here a moment.... What I saw in those girls back in high school was a desperate need to feel connected to something or someone in a deep way, perhaps even just to feel something real period. I don't think we have that really anymore in our society. Oh, everybody wears their "feelings on their sleeves", yet very few really have truly deep relationships, ones where feelings can be expressed without fear.

There is something about detailed knowledge of someone that causes us to feel connected to them, and can deceive us into believing we are more connected to people than we really are. We are so informed about the lives of people we don't even know that we have pictures and minute details of the last time they shaved their head and went a little nuts, and it makes us feel like we know them. But we don't. So of course when we know just as much detail about the people around us, we think we must have a deep connection with them - because after all, if we have a connection to Britney and we don't even know her, we must have a DEEP connection with those we know (for some odd reason in our society knowledge = relationship. How messed up is that?).  Too often the connections in our lives don't satisfy us; more often than not they are superficial at best, and not deep as we suppose them to be.

The made-public death of a fellow-anything (student, co-worker, artist, etc), reminds our souls of that deep longing for real connection, real satisfying relationships, and grief over our own dissatisfaction bubbles to the surface. The current love-affair with public grieving gives us a free pass to cry and scream and get hysterical (to feel, in other words) as well as a safe way to grieve our own loss/lack of deep relationships without appearing self-centered in a moment of such tragedy for others.

Grief is so unpredictable. It sneaks up on you and bites you in the butt when you least expect it. It shows itself in public sometimes in ways that does not look at all like grief and other times reveals its true fire in private moments of agony. Sometimes it looks like sorrow, sometimes it looks like depression, sometimes it looking like a angry raging lunatic hell-bent on revenge, or at least a piece of somebody's ass to chew off. And then, sometimes things that look like grief are not really grief at all. Fear especially loves to masquerade as grief, because it gets a lot more attention and acceptance that way.

I can't say why all the people are crying over the shootings at Virginia Tech right now. But I have to wonder what it was in this incident that tapped into hidden losses and fears. For me it's another reminder of all the losses in my life and my deep-rooted fear of losing someone or something else. Thankfully, my own pain and fears haven't given me much grief over this whole tragedy (they've been deeply fixed on another, but that's another post). But the huge public reaction - including my company opening up a meeting room for people to view the televised Memorial Service - does really intrigue me as I watch others struggle through the powerful emotions this incident brought forth.

UPDATE on the Mastectomy Hospital Bill in Congress

I did a Google search and discovered that Snopes.com confirms this bill is real. Originally called the Breast Cancer Protection Act of 1997, it was first introduced to Congress in 1997, and re-submitted nearly every year since. Each year it never sees the light of the floor of Congress, but rather is referred to various committees for "further study."

I'm thinking there's been enough "study". It's time to DO. Snopes urges that, rather than sign a petition, perhaps contacting and pressuring your local congressman/woman is now in order. I agree.

This has gone on long enough. Either bring the bill to a vote, or kill it for good, but stop playing with the lives of women suffering through cancer.

My Congresswoman is Marsha Blackburn and I intend to contact her within the week and request she move this bill forward and not let it languish in committee another year. I urge you to do the same. If you live in Tennessee you can find the list of our Representatives here, or go to the House of Representatives' official site and type in your zip code to find your specific representative.

Go!

Consumer-Driven Health Care

I'm currently working on a research paper about the unbelievably high cost of health care, and the consumer-driven health care ideas that are floating around out there, specifically the new HSAs, and would really appreciate your help.   

If you have a story about being rejected for medical insurance, not having insurance and being stuck with a huge bill, or if you currently have an HSA (Health Savings Account, which is very different than a Flexible Spending Account -FSA-) AND you would be willing to let your story be included in a college research paper (names changed, of course), would you leave your story in the comments of this post? Or those of you who know my email addy can just email it to me.

Even if you don't have a story, but have thoughts on consumer-driven health care, I'd be interested to hear. I'm trying to get a feel for the general public's thoughts on this. 

PLEASE NOTE: Comment Moderation is now OFF, so your comment will be immediately published.  Thank you for your help!

The Path To 9/11

I watched Part One of this two-part mini-series on ABC tonight. I have to say, I was blown away, both by the production values of this MOW (aka Movie of the Week) and of the information it provides.

It is excellently written, acted and produced. It could rival the best episodes of 24 in its suspense and realistic feel, though it did move rather slow in a few areas. But production aside, what it reveals of the events leading up to September 11, 2001 is insanely mind-bending.

Some of it it is already known, in the arrests of various Al Qaeda operatives on their way to, or shortly after, a terrorist attack. But at one point, we apparently had a clear and perfect opportunity to take out/arrest/kill Osama Bin Laden back in 1998, but was not approved at the last minute. Richard Clark, NSC for President Clinton and now an ABC adviser, defends the move saying that the CIA operatives there would have been cut down in the attempt and it would not have been successful.

I don't believe him. And even if he is correct, wouldn't it have been better to have tried back then, with the element of surprise on our side, than what has happened since? It seems to me that Clinton's advisers and cabinet were more afraid of what their Boss and what the Congress would do to them if any Ops against Bin Laden and Al Qaeda than they were intent on protecting and defending the citizens of the US. And Clinton was far too busy defending himself because he couldn't keep his paws of an intern to pay real attention to what was happening in the world, nonetheless in his own ranks.

It will be interesting to see what mistakes and missteps the Bush Administration made in the months and days leading up to September 11th. Because you know they made them. Ain't nobody perfect in this world.

What I do admire about Bush is that once the attack happened, he came out and said what everyone in the Intelligence community knew since the early 1990s: we are at war with this guy. Bin Laden declared war on America, on Americans, on every single one of us unless we convert to Islam or until we are all dead. Every last one of us. He declared that back in the early 1990s. He made it known to the world. And September 11th was just one in a many attacks he's made on us. But more importantly, Bush not only declared war, he backed it up with action. He was ruthless in his pursuit. That is, until Bin Laden took refuge in the mountains of an American ally, Pakistan, who still claims allegiance to us over Bin Laden/Taliban.

If Pakistan's leaders really believe that, they must be completely out of touch with their own people, who are aiding and abetting Bin Laden and the Taliban even today. Personally, I think Pakistan's leaders are playing both sides of the fence because they get benefits from being on America's side but I think their hearts really belong to Bin Laden. That's just my opinion.

Bush started so strong. He was kickin' ass and takin' names. But he seems so impotent now. What happened? What happened?  I have to wonder if He got so frustrated with Pakistan that it caused him to turn and kick Saddam in the balls, which drug us into an unwinnable position in Iraq. And somewhere along the way he lost his way.

Back to "The Path of 9/11", I can see why many Clinton loyalists cried foul over this movie though. It doesn't shine the best light on Clinton. But that's really Clinton's own fault, not the fault of the 9/11 Commission or the filmmakers. He sucked at foreign policy. Even Clinton fans have to admit that. He just sucked at it. I don't know if he just didn't care, or if he just completely lacked comprehension of it.

Failure doesn't belong just to him, though. It seems clear that it didn't just filtered down through his underlings, but it had percolated unchecked through the intelligence and law enforcement agencies for years; perhaps due to Reagan's failing mental health or the elder Bush's lack of trust or belief in Reagan's policies.  There was a gross lack of communication and trust between intelligence agencies and a whole lot of people who just didn't see any of it coming till it was too large to stop.

Whatever you may think of Clinton or Bush, I think ABC actually made a very wise and valuable choice in producing this film. How many of us actually took the time, or would bother to take the time even now, to read the whole 9/11 Commission Report. But we're all more than willing to watch a mini-series for a few hours, especially one that's aired uninterrupted -- as in without those stupid, pesky, annoying commercials. And perhaps some of us, like me, just might get curious enough to read the real thing and actually have a better understanding of the world we live in and events leading up to the attack that woke us up to the fact that we really are at war. Not because we declared it so, but because someone out there really does want us dead.

My Little Attempt To Change The World

So I'm in Publix last night for my weekly grocery shopping when I hear the familiar line, "paper or plastic."

It always amuses me to hear this and watch the face of the checker or bagger asking. They automatically expect to hear plastic. So much so that it always takes them a moment to realize I've said "paper please."

Last night was no exception. In fact, they so expect shoppers to say plastic, that the paper bags are hidden behind the plastic bag loader and under the counter. It took a little work for the bagger to bring out the three or so bags needed for my load. And his expression was rather priceless as well. He was quite put out that he had to go digging for the seldom used bags and had no qualms showing it in his demeanor.

Not only that, but he had no idea how to pack groceries into one. He put my gallon of milk on the bottom, packed the bag with several items then topped it off with my loaf of wheat bread.

Milk and bread in the same bag? Never saw that before.

So what's the deal with the plastic bags anyway? Why do stores seem to push them on us, when everything else in our lives is so focused on "recycling" and taking care of the environment? And why do they even bother to ask the double-P question when they already so assume the consumer will go for the plastic that they've placed the paper bags in inconvenient places for their baggers and don't even train said baggers in how to properly pack a paper bag?

Oh, and I know what you're asking me in the privacy of your own web-world as well... why in the world to you take bulky hard-to-hold paper bags over the ease of plastic bags with their handy-dandy little handles?

I'll tell you why. India. China. Ethiopia. Tijuana. Ensenada. That's why.

One of the longest lasting images I have of these places is the ubiquitous presence of plastic bags, smashed in the gutters, clinging to fences and walls, wafting in the breezes and filling up the trash heaps. These pervasive and familiar contraptions don't ever seem to die. They live on in countries and regions too poor to afford clean up crews and overflow garbage piles all over the world. I can't tell you how often I saw these bags flying through the air or clutching to local vegetation as if sucking the life out of it. In Ethiopia it sometimes seemed that the plastic bag was "grown" along side the tumble weeds and tall grasses.

With each new siting I swore I would never use another plastic bag again in my life. But reality is such a different creature than our ideals. Once back in the States (or in European life), however, I eventually found myself clutching   my own little life-sucker as I left my local Walgreen's or Kroger. The pull of ease and convenience was much stronger than my desire to rid the world of the evil plastic bag. That is, until recently.

Something snapped in me a couple of months ago. I don't know what it was -- perhaps I just finally found my own strength of will (and character?). But I came to the firm conclusion that I no longer have to contribute to the world's supply of un-recycled plastic bag trash. Every time I'd walk out of the store carrying my plastic bag full of goodies my joy was diminished by the images in my mind of that same plastic bag someday littering the African landscape and diminishing the beauty and grandeur by its very existence. It finally got to much for me to bear. And I decided it is time to take a stand. No matter how small or insignificant it may seem to others. I needed to do something. I needed to do something. So I asked for my first paper bags since I was in high school.

I sounded as if I was asking a huge favor from the checker.

"Paper or Plastic, ma'am?" Even the baggers are polite in the South.

"Uh... paper... please?" Did I actually squeak when I said that??

Oh, but I felt so very good when I left with my paper bags full of groceries. I'd just kept four plastic bags out of circulation. Ethiopia would be a little less in danger of being overrun with those evil life-suckers now.

With each trip to the grocery store it got a little easier, and I got a little more confident in my "paper" declaration. Till one day I found myself anticipating the question and stating, "paper bags please," before the checker even had time to ask.

It also helped that I discovered the self-checkout lines. Except for the fact that they make it even more difficult to use paper bags in those lines. Have you ever tried to bag your groceries with paper while keeping them on that little pad so the machine doesn't loudly proclaim, for all the store to hear, "Please put the item back in the bag," while at the same time not toppling over and crashing to the floor spilling jam and spaghetti sauce all over the you and the three people at the next two stations? It ain't easy. But I make it work. Because it matters to me.

Eventually I hope to gather some cotton totes to carry into stores with me, but for now, paper is good. it works whether I recycle, or send it to the land fill. At least it will turn back to pulp/dust many decades sooner than plastic will.... do whatever it is that plastic does when it finally fades away... Does it fade away???

I cannot save the world from hate or war. I may not even be able to clean up our planet and rid it of all garbage and air pollutants. But I can do one thing:

I can lessen the world's trash by a few bags and, hopefully, help keep it a little cleaner for the next generation. My paper bags may cause inconvenience for the checkers and baggers of America. But if I can help keep Ethiopia from being completely overrun by plastic bags, even in a small way, than it's worth all the rolled eyes and cranky attitudes I get.

How Can This Be??

Our intern, a graphic design major at a UT school, just told me she's never heard of the EU and doesn't know anything about it.

Huh???

How is that possible?? How does a 25 year-old graduate from high school and make it all the way through to her senior year of college -- including a couple of years for just working and hanging out -- and not learn about the fastest growing, most loudly self-promoting, and somewhat influential political body in the world today?? Just what are they teaching in schools today???

Let's Have Immigrant Strike Day Every Day

WooHoo!! I looooved this Immigrant Strike thing. Man! They should do this every day! There was no traffic on the roads, very few people just loitering around on the street corners, no big crowds in the stores.... I had a great day!

I had to go to the County Clerk's office and it was so much less crowded than the last time I went, even though there were a few people there working with an interpreter (gotta say I was proud of them to come out and do business today). I don't know why, but it seems immigrants congregate at county offices... what's that about?? Traffic on the freeways was non-existent and the stores I went to were pleasantly uncrowded and easy to shop at. I have to say -- even though it's very incredibly politically incorrect -- I'd be ever so happy if all the immigrants that stayed home today never came back in.

Yes, I know. I'm soooo politically off my rocker. But ya know what? Don't. Care. I'm quite tired of people who come here illegally -- hence the phrase illegal aliens -- demanding rights like they were full-fledged citizens, yet they got here, and stay here, illegally.

And before you go all Hillary on me, one of my dearest friends is the daughter of an immigrant, who divorced his wife and now works in LA and then drives back into Mexico using US-earned -- but NOT taxed -- dollars to support his family in Mexico.  I have dozens of friends who are first or second generation Americans -- ABC's, Latinas, Filipinos, Japanese, Korean, Lebanese.... The thing is, every one of my friends' parents entered legally. And most of my friends are just as angry over the illegal aliens issue as I am.

I'm a descendant of a Welsh immigrant who moved to Virginia in the mid-1600s, and mixed with a little of the Crockett family (immigrants from France by way of Ireland; cousins of Davy) and some Choctaw Native Americans, not to mention a doctor who fought alongside General George Washington at Valley Forge. I am fully aware that America is made up of immigrants. We are the light in the harbor, shining brightly in the night, promising a better life for all who seek it. And the coolest thing is, for those willing to work their butts of, America comes through on all her promises.

This is a country made up of immigrants. We pushed the natives of this land into small sections of land. The rest of us, for better or worse, are squatters; immigrants who gave up our languages and adjusted our cultures to create a new, uniquely American culture, an amalgam of every culture to ever touch our people.

I guess that's what bothers me the most in the latest illegal immigrant-lovefest I see before us. There's a sense, at least to me, of ultra-nationalism (is that a real term??) I sense that their country is better than America and they'd rather sing the praises of home than embrace and impact the uniqueness of America -- though they're seem very quick to embrace our money, sans taxes, of course. I mean, a Spanish version of the U.S. National Anthem??? No. This is not Mexico. Nor is this Cyprus, where the Greek Cypriots are prouder of their Greek heritage than their own Cypriot nation. We are AMERICA. If you want our money and our jobs, learn our language and sing our national anthem the way it was written: in English. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for language integration in schools and easing non-English speakers into our language. I understand the incredible difficulty of learning a second language -- believe me, I've tried! It ain't easy.

But come on. If you're going to enjoy the benefits of our country, embrace our culture. If you can't, then don't partake of the bounty of America.

Then there's the economic and legal issues. I realize that most of these folks are trying to earn enough money to live and to support their families back home. But. There are laws. They are there for a reason. And they are already there.  Hence the term illegal aliens. The way they got here is against the law. Why are we not enforcing the laws currently on the books? Why do we need more laws??

And now there's talk of reward illegal aliens with a "legal" status?? For breaking the law?? And what of all those waiting patiently for 7, 8, even 10 or more years to come here legally? What are we telling them if we reward those who circumvented the system? It doesn't pay to follow the law in America?

What's more: what are we teaching our children? The youth and kids who are watching what we do? Do we really want to send them the message that its okay to break the law, because eventually Congress will reward you and give you "legal" status for your illegal actions??

Honestly, is that what we want to tell them?

Yes, I understand full well that many immigrants work jobs that no American would touch. As a resident of LA I knew full well that many of the great fruit, veggies and other such wonders of life were provided me at low cost on the backs of illegal aliens being paid ridiculously demeaning wages. I have lots of thoughts on that. All conflicting. On the one hand, are we so jaded and spoiled here in America that we would rather take handouts from the government (welfare) than earn a day's wage picking strawberries for less than minimum wage? On the other hand, insist employers pay minimum wage for these jobs, are we willing to pay more at the grocery store for our strawberries? They're pretty dang expensive here in Nashville as it is (it seems all fruits and veggies cost less in LA --- why is that??).

There is no easy, pain-free solution to this problem. Even if we were to "legalize" the illegals, they would now by default be in that bracket/category of workers whose day wages are too expensive for those who hire illegal immigrants in the first place. Which just creates a new conundrum: do we put up with the higher prices the legalization brought upon us, or do we look the other way as a whole new wave of illegal immigrants floods our land to work the jobs no one else will work?

But its not just the "fault" of the immigrants. They wouldn't come if there wasn't work to be had. And there wouldn't be work to be had if employers would follow the law when it comes to hiring and paying employees.

It all comes back to this: why have immigration laws on the books if we are not going to enforce them?

It does no good to legalize illegal aliens if the employers aren't going to change their practices of hiring illegals to get away with not withholding taxes/medicare/social security and not paying fair wages for a day's work. The now-legal aliens will seek out jobs their legal status now qualifies them for, leaving their old jobs open and waiting for those with no other option but to work for less than legal wages.

Nor does it do any good to strengthen borders and roundup and deport illegal aliens in America as long as employers get away with their illegal activity and are not forced to comply with existing labor laws through raids, exorbitant fines and even jail time for executives/hiring managers.

Of course, we could always go with Ji mmy Kimmel's advice: let Angelina Jolie adopt them all. Then they'd just be one big happy disfunctional family.

Forgive me. I'm very tired. It's late. And this has been an exhausting emotional rant. I'll kick the soapbox out from under myself now and go to bed.