Here I Am

I was going through the news today and came across a story stating that the EU will be donating $2.5 Million to help care for rape victims in the Democratic Republic of Congo. The European Commission's Humanitarian Aid and Civil Protection (ECHO) unit already leads a support program for rape victims, and last year the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) agreed to a $42 million package to help those affected.

This is a huge amount of money.

My first thought (as usual) was to book a flight to Africa and start helping in the field hospitals. When it comes to social justice, I'm always the first person to jump on the proverbial bandwagon. The problem is, I can't just pick up and go to the Congo because I feel like it. I have a job that requires my physical presence every day. I have a wedding to plan and a husband who, although he loves to travel as much as I do, can't come with me on a globe trotting trip. The other slight flaw in this plan is that it's the Congo. I am a young, white woman. Hacking my way into the deepest darkest parts of Africa could just as easily get me raped like the women I want so badly to help. The leap isn't that large.

That said, every time I come across a story like this, I feel God's pull on my heart to be involved. The first time I saw Invisible Children's initial film project, I went home and cried for two days, asking God what I could do for these kids. I don't feel called to start a movement; I don't even feel the need to join a movement. I just feel that God wants to use the heart he gave me to heal and encourage other people.

But the road is constantly paved with roadblocks. I can't help rape victims because I don't think I'm even close to ready and abused children have no place in my miniscule apartment (trust me, my husband takes up enough room). 

One day, I'm sure I'll get out to Africa and pour my heart into wounded women and kids, but God's got plenty to do with me before then. Someday, when my children are grown and I am old, I would love to move to some far away place and try something new forever. 

Until then, I will continue to make friends and read travel books.

News of the Strange

It is time, my friends, to update you all on the weird and strange goings on in the world of news. (As borrowed from my daily office antics).

For your entertainment:

Well, Looking over some of the weird stuff in the news. I found a few weekend stories that were really off the wire. 

My favorite, though, actually occurred in Seattle while I was there over the weekend. Apparently, one of the inmates escaped from the local prison and decided to go for a little walk. So, early in the morning, he walks up to a local cabin, still wearing his prison uniform, knocks on the door, and asks to use the phone. 

Now here’s where it gets interesting. The man who answered the door, just happened to be a guard who works at same prison this convict escaped from. He had just left work and was still wearing his uniform as well! 

The two struggled for a bit until the convict took off, but they caught him a few hours later. 

What’s interesting is that all this guy was in prison for was forgery and theft. No armed assault, no robbery, so why even bother to escape? 

Moving on, does everyone remember the Balloon boy from Colorado? His parents tried to make some cash by lying about sending their kid up to space in a silver helium balloon a couple years ago. Well now, it looks like  those same parents  are still strapped for cash because they are now re-opening bids on the balloon after saying that all the original bids were just too low! 
They opened the auction for the balloon at the beginning of June, suggesting a bid of $1 million, but since no one seems to want to pay that much for a shiny plastic sheet, their extending the auction. 

What I find amusing is that after two years and some significant jail time, this couple is still on the track to win fame glory, and cash. It’s obvious the ploy isn’t working, but their stretching as far as they can and then some. It’s ridiculous. 
This poor kid has got to be rolling his and planning his escape when he hits high school. Maybe he’ll use the balloon since his parents can’t seem to give it away. 
And speaking of rebellious teens, some idiot in San Francisco landed his butt in jail this weekend when he refused to pull up his pants. DeShon Marman, a football player at University of New Mexico was boarding a US Airways flight when the gate agent asked him to pull up his pants (apparently they were showing just a little too much). He told the agent to “pull them up for him” 

After that, he boarded the plane, where at least two other employees insisted he either strap on a belt or leave the plane. Finally, the captain of the plane told this kid to take a hike and that’s when the brat got aggressive. After a rather hefty exchange caught on camera by another passenger, Marman apparently injured a police officer before being arrested for trespassing, battery and obstruction but was released on bail. 
Now, to me, it doesn’t seem worth it . Just pull your pants up, man. If you want to make a statement, don’t do it at the airport. There are cops there. 

Also on my little list of summer don'ts: Don’t take your boa constrictor on a camping trip. I swear this story is right out of The Magic School Bus. 

A man from Addison County, MI was cited for violating park rules after he notified authorities that his 5' long boa constrictor that he keeps as a pet had escaped from his pop-up camper.

Officially, the park's executive officer said that the snake is young and probably doesn't pose a threat to humans.

That said, the scary part is that the park authorities still haven't found the snake, but say they are hoping to find it before tourists arrive for Independence Day.

Now, what I want to know is why this guy thought it would be fun to take the snake on a road trip. It's not like a dog that plays fetch and runs around in the woods. Does he pet it? Does he sleep with it? It just doesn't seem like the wisest of vacation choices.

Anyway, I shall attempt to keep you posted as I discover more on the idiots that continue to make life interesting and entertaining.

Something Borrowed

"Something Borrowed", winner of this year's Rotten Tomato and Kate Hudson's latest contribution to the world of romantic comedy, is hardly something to be laughed at.

The film follows Rachel (played by doe eyed Ginnifer Goodwin) as she helps her childhood friend (Darcy) prepare for her wedding. About ten minutes in, we catch Rachel making out in the back of a cab WITH THE GROOM. The dirty little secret here is that Rachel has spent the last six years crushing on this guy without breathing a word to anyone, including the man in question.

Bad leads to worse as Rachel and Dex begin an illicit affair, sleeping around behind the bride's back and expecting their friends to simply play along. In the end, everyone's various sexual escapades are brought to light and ....................everything is fine?

This is where I got confused. in spite of multiple affairs, wounded friendships and broken relationships, every character in this movie gets a fairy tale ending. Darcy cheats on her fiance' and has a baby; Ethan moves to London and writes a book while Rachel and Dex move in together without batting an eye.

At the end of the film, no one gets hurt. No one.

There are no realistic consequences in destroying a marriage or having sex someone while engaged to someone else.

While John Krasinski does an amazing job in the role of best friend, it is hardly a redeeming factor in this movie.

Admittedly, we watch films to draw us away from reality. For example, reality won't tell you it's okay to cheat on your future spouse if that's where your feelings lead you. And reality won't let you get away with it scot free. I promise.

Movies like this one, however, will lie to your face. Ask anyone who's ever had an affair or been cheated on, I guarantee you it's painful. It hurts.

I'm not one to carry a banner or fly a flag for the Christian movement here, but there are women (and men) out there who will see this movie and assume this is how the world works. That is the message of this movie.That the series of choices we make in life don't matter. That we can just go back and change things whenever it's convenient. That as long I'm happy in the end, it doesn't matter how I got here.

God Bless America

"I’ve always believed that this blessed land was set apart in a special way, that some divine plan placed this great continent here between the oceans to be found by people from every corner of the Earth who had a special love for freedom and the courage to uproot themselves, leave homeland and friends, to come to a strange land. And coming here they created something new in all the history of mankind–a land where man is not beholden to government, government is beholden to man."

President Ronald Reagan considered America to be a divine experiment, a country set apart from other nations.  Here in the United States we have the freedom of speech, the right to bear arms, and the freedom of religion. We are the only country in the world with these bragging rights. 

This is what I believe sets our country apart. We used to be the most feared and most respected nation in the world. We held the reins of power and the rest of the world understood that. In 1986, Reagan had no problem ordering the bombing of Tripoli as a retataliation for terrorist attacks against US soldiers. 

Today, 25 years later, such an order would never be given. As a country, we have forgotten how to carry the big stick. The current administration is convinced that diplomacy is the answer for nearly every international crisis and a state dinner with China can end decades of international conflict. 


As Americans, we are held to a higher standard. This country is expected to rise up and set the example for older nations founded on lesser principles. Even in the last generation, however, we have stepped away from the basic guidelines of responsible government and allowed ourselves to become blinded by greed and a sense of self entitlement. In just the last 10 years, we have borrowed more than tripled the national debt compared to America's entire history combined. 


As Americans, we feel entitled to free health care, free housing, free food, and government sponsored education. We expect congress to pay our rent rather than maintain the laws we elected them to protect. 

Regardless of your religious or political affiliations, Americans must realize that we are unique. There has never been a country like ours before. We are a new nation, and with this rebirth comes a grave responsibility. 

Letter To Garrision Kellor and His Brilliant Response

Mr. Keillor,
I listen to your show all the time. I am turning 18 this January and searching for colleges and one of the classes I want to take is radio. People say that I have the voice (and face) for radio and I am interested in the field.

I would love to have your opinion and hear how you got on radio.

Ryan D.
Lebanon, Ohio

--

Answer:

I got into radio, Ryan, by sheer luck and personal connections and also because I could get up at 4 in the morning five days a week even in the dead of winter and be ambitious to do a good show. I was too naive to be discouraged. And somehow, despite all sorts of bonehead moves, my enthusiasm did not flag. I don't think you need to study radio in college. Most of what you need to know you can learn on the job and most of what you learn in a college course will be useless, or outdated. What you need from college is an excellent liberal arts education that will give you a broad base of judgment and perspective that will stand you in good stead no matter what sort of career you pursue. Radio has a bright future which will be forged by young people following their own inspiration, not imitating their elders, though the essence of broadcasting is the same today as it was ninety years ago at the inception: radio is all about coherence. We all live in a landscape of dense confusion and competing messages and radio attempts to give us a degree of clarity and a coherent view of the world, embodied in the human voice. It's a powerful medium that speaks to our perpetual loneliness and I wish you well and hope you'll hurl yourself bodily into getting a good education, studying the hard subjects, taking on a new language, reading the difficult texts. That's going to be a struggle, compared to a broadcasting major, but it's a better use of your time, Ryan.

I had To Share This

William Faulkner's Acceptance Speech for the Literary Nobel Prize in 1950:

     I feel that this award was not made to me as a man, but to my work--a life's work in the agony and sweat of the human spirit, not for glory and least of all for profit, but to create out of the materials of the human spirit something which did not exist before. So this award is only mine in trust. It will not be difficult to find a dedication for the money part of it commensurate with the purpose and significance of its origin. But I would like to do the same with the acclaim too, by using this moment as a pinnacle from which I might be listened to by the young men and women already dedicated to the same anguish and travail, among whom is already that one who will some day stand where I am standing.

      Our tragedy today is a general and universal physical fear so long sustained by now that we can even bear it. There are no longer problems of the spirit. There is only one question: When will I be blown up? Because of this, the young man or woman writing today has forgotten the problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat. He must learn them again. He must teach himself that the basest of all things is to be afraid: and, teaching himself that, forget it forever, leaving no room in his workshop for anything but the old verities and truths of the heart, the universal truths lacking which any story is ephemeral and doomed--love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice. Until he does so, he labors under a curse. He writes not of love but of lust, of defeats in which nobody loses anything of value, and victories without hope and worst of all, without pity or compassion. His griefs grieve on no universal bones, leaving no scars. He writes not of the heart but of the glands.
      Until he learns these things, he will write as though he stood among and watched the end of man. I decline to accept the end of man. It is easy enough to say that man is immortal because he will endure: that when the last ding-dong of doom has clanged and faded from the last worthless rock hanging tideless in the last red and dying evening, that even then there will still be one more sound: that of his puny inexhaustible voice, still talking. I refuse to accept this. I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet's, the writer's, duty is to write about these things. It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.

Live Like You Were Dying?

A few days ago, a friend from my old church told us he was dying. The doctors have given him six months to live and aren't even sure he will make it that far.

This got me into the discussion of how I might choose to live the last months of my life. After running it by a few friends, I was surprised at the varying responses I received. There was the usual answers of thrill seeking and adventures unlived, but some were genuinely different. Brian told me he would simply set aside some time to just be with God and share experiences with the people he loved. Amile would go back to where his heart truly came alive and die on the stage. Eric wants to take a trip to the Rockies.

The thing is, when we know we're dying, our hearts go back to what fulfills us. We want the last part to count.

I spent most of last Thursday talking to Amile about how we would live while we died. After that conversation, I realized I want my whole life to count, not just the last six months. When I die, I want people to know God was in my life, that we were desperately close.

When my great grandfather died, his funeral was something unique that no one who was there will soon forget. Arnold made everyone he knew feel special, like you were the only person in the word who mattered. His life and his marriage to my great grandmother were inspirational. I can't imagine a better role model.

That is the kind of life I want to live. The people we remember are the ones who know the secret. Not the book, but the understanding that life is not about living under the pressure of God's "Plan" but rather knowing that God  actually cares about us individually and takes an interest on our daily living.

Once I finally get around to understanding that, I think we can move towards a closer relationship with God and living like that relationship actually means something.

"Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you?"
1 Corinthians 3:16