I've been doing a lot of reading in the news the last couple of days about hunger in Haiti. I can't help but feel real grief about it.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27826184/
Did you read the entire article or open it and read the subject and quickly close it? If you just opened it and closed it, then I challenge you to open it again and take the ten minutes it takes to read through the whole thing. Force yourself. I know, it's not gossip or sports related. I realize it's not fun. But move yourself out of your comfort zone and read the entire article before going further in my blog.
I admit. I cannot contain my grief about what I read and saw within the body of the article above. I give what we can as often as I can - it's not enough either in amount or frequency, I admit.
I grieve at the thought of babies starving to death just south of one of the richest nations in the world. I grieve at the thought of children starving to death just south of one of the richest nations in the world. I grieve at the though of teenagers starving and rioting over food just south of one of richest nations in the world. I grieve a adults and the elderly starving to death just south of one of the richest nations in the world. I grieve because my money alone will not fix it. I grieve because we all know this is wrong to turn our heads to and yet we do it anyway. It's why we're so wasteful. We don't waste when we think about what others do without. My mother used to say something about starving children in Ethiopia when I was growing up. I thought I was very clever when I smartly responded one night about my meal, "well then send it to them." I think too many of us laugh off starvation just like that.
We had our annual Thanksgiving lunch in our office today and I looked around at the bounty. It was breath taking. It was delicious. I brought my family. It was a great time to get together. Now that it's over, you should see the trash can. You should see the freaking trash can afterwards. It makes me sick. It makes me sick to see the trash can and read that so many in the world are dying of starvation.
I want to rant, but I guess what I'm saying is that I have a little link off to the right of this post. If you have an extra $5, $10, $15 dollars to occasionally give - throw it there. You can give directly to Haiti or any where in the world where there is a need for food. It's so easy. It's so very very easy and could literally make a difference between some one's life or death.
For those of you skeptical about where your money goes, there is a second link for finding out where your money goes when you send it to a charity. Read about the World Food Program. Your money is not being swindled.
Sixth Picture(s)
Alison tagged me and the theme: posting the sixth picture in my photo library. I couldn't decide whether that meant from the start or end of my library. I looked at both, and I find it ironic that my sixth picture from the start and sixth picture from the end of my photo list are both related to sailing. I decided to share both since I discovered that irony.
The second picture is from our sailboat in the British Virgin Islands as we're leaving the marina for the start of our ten day cruise with some of our best couple friends (Todd and Brooke). It was May of 2006 and I was approximately 5 1/2 months pregnant. On the trip we sailed to each island of the British and U.S. Virgin Islands (well, we didn't sail to St. Thomas, but we did arrive and depart from there by boat). It was a true adventure that I will never forget. The scenery and landscape was breath taking and truly a place to behold - as always. The water, well, it's alive and it looks alive and it makes you feel alive. Mason and I had done the land version of this trip for our honeymoon, so to see everything from the land first, and then arrive by water to each destination was liberating. I can't wait to take Clare, which I believe we're planning on doing next year during November.
Naturally this will segue into the first sixth picture displayed in this entry that is from the end of our picture list. This one is of Clare on our sailboat, Carrie Lee, last weekend. She loved it and I found her to be quite at home in an environment that Mason and I love as well. Hmmmm....I wonder if this is a hint that we should definitely go sailing more often. If nothing else, it's a huge coincidence.
My turn to tag. How about, Nancy and Dana?
Interactive portion of the program
What's the habit you're proudest of breaking?
Mine would be smoking.
It was the hardest thing in the world to quit, seriously. I only quit because I wanted a baby (thanks in advance for that one Clare). I started smoking when I was 19 and quit when I was 29. It was very much a part of who I was, part of my love affair with life, part of my socializing with friends, part of my perception of academia and creativity, and part of daily decompression for me. At the time, I found it both liberating and considered it open-minded.
The funny thing is that now that I don't smoke, I think about all of that wasted money and time. I think about how it kind of bound me up into this very small world (I was literally chained to the smoking area). Of course, I wasn't really a smoker since I didn't smoke all of the time and certainly didn't need one. Ha, the lies we tell ourselves in order to keep doing what we do....meanwhile, ten years later you're still doing it and the lie is harder to swallow. So, there is my story. Now...what's yours?
Oh, cute side note though. I met someone I consider one of my best friends in life because I smoked...so I forgive myself for the years of abuse if I got nothing more than her out of it. True story, we were both in a bar waiting to hear some musician and she tapped me on the shoulder and said "do you mind if I use your ash tray." I responded with, "as long as you don't mind if I smoke." We both smiled broadly and started laughing, after that we were inseparable for a season of our life. I'm thankful for that memory.
Mine would be smoking.
It was the hardest thing in the world to quit, seriously. I only quit because I wanted a baby (thanks in advance for that one Clare). I started smoking when I was 19 and quit when I was 29. It was very much a part of who I was, part of my love affair with life, part of my socializing with friends, part of my perception of academia and creativity, and part of daily decompression for me. At the time, I found it both liberating and considered it open-minded.
The funny thing is that now that I don't smoke, I think about all of that wasted money and time. I think about how it kind of bound me up into this very small world (I was literally chained to the smoking area). Of course, I wasn't really a smoker since I didn't smoke all of the time and certainly didn't need one. Ha, the lies we tell ourselves in order to keep doing what we do....meanwhile, ten years later you're still doing it and the lie is harder to swallow. So, there is my story. Now...what's yours?
Oh, cute side note though. I met someone I consider one of my best friends in life because I smoked...so I forgive myself for the years of abuse if I got nothing more than her out of it. True story, we were both in a bar waiting to hear some musician and she tapped me on the shoulder and said "do you mind if I use your ash tray." I responded with, "as long as you don't mind if I smoke." We both smiled broadly and started laughing, after that we were inseparable for a season of our life. I'm thankful for that memory.
We wish you a merry.....
Christmas stresses me out. Seriously!
I asked for the list of all of the teachers, kitchen staff and office staff at Clare's school who she interacts with daily. It takes a village to take care of my little girl every day and I want to make sure they all get something to show our appreciation. I thought, "I'll be proactive and get it a month or more in advance of when I need it." I was still patting myself on the back this morning when I got the list. I promptly quit upon counting all of the names on the list.
Wow!
My gift idea went from gift cards to Target (all teachers need money) to, "what the crap am I supposed to buy for 20 people that they'll actually want that won't break the holiday budget". Someone at work suggested I make them cookies. I almost choked. Yeah, that's a great idea! Let's poison the teachers, they will all love Clare then!
Good Grief, I could just kick myself. Should have just pleaded insanity and gotten her current teachers a nice gift.
Now I have to hope for some pretty fantastic sales at Bath and Body works because they're all getting hand sanitizer and lotion. If you've got some coupons, send them my way...if you see a sale, call me up and tell me about it. You see, it may take a village to raise my child, but I'm going to need some serious shopping love to pull this off with any sort of dignity.
The Bigger Picture
I appreciate comments for any and all of my posts. It is important to have feedback. It is important to communicate. It is even more important to realize when I have been singularly focused and need to see the bigger picture (or rather, read further through a chapter in the Bible instead of stopping where I don't like what I've read).
Thanks to my fellow women, who are students of Christ. Thank you for challenging me to look beyond the words that I don't like into the words that carry respect and meaning for all of us. Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts, experiences and opinions.
Thanks to my fellow women, who are students of Christ. Thank you for challenging me to look beyond the words that I don't like into the words that carry respect and meaning for all of us. Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts, experiences and opinions.
Just so that you all know
Just because I post, doesn't mean I'm being antagonistic or argumentative. I just write my thoughts and the people who read them are privy to my personal opinions. My opinions are not likely to change the world (although in my most narcissistic moments, I believe they can). I'm just "speaking" my mind, as I often do. I enjoy a good discussion. I enjoy stimulating people through my words and providing an alternative view of traditional ideas. I enjoy moving people out of their comfort zones and being moved out of mine. In there we fall back on rehearsed lines and over processed responses. Outside of there we are free thinking and on our toes. The raw identity of who we are comes alive when we are forced out of our comfort zone. I personally think it's healthy to question all things. Many people do not agree and find it offensive and abrasive. I wish I could say that I'm sorry if I have offended anyone, but in reality, I am not. I am only sorry if you read what I write and have no opinion or have not been moved in one way or another.
I am not on a crusade, I'm just blogging.
Submit
Often within the church, we wives are encouraged to "submit" to our husbands. The meaning of this changes based on which church and doctrine you subscribe to; however, it exists in all of them to one degree or another. Whenever I hear the role of a wife described in the Bible, I physically, mentally and emotionally bristle.
Frankly, to submit, requires you to give up your authority over your life and give it to someone else. Now, why would God want me to give up the authority of my life to someone fallible and not just go directly to Him? Why would it be more important that I submit to my husband, rather than just love my husband as the Bible reminds our husbands to do to us? Am I somehow not capable of making a decision, disagreeing with a point, protesting injustice, solving problems, making friends, or handling situations? Why would I be asked to give final say of these things to another sinning human being? Why would I not expect to do all of this based on the same resources that a man (presumably my husband) would have at his hands - The Bible, Prayer, the church, etc? What if I had prayed and felt the Hand of God in my life and on my decision, and my husband objected? Under this pretense, who then is my authority - didn't the Bible give it to my husband as I am defined as his wife? What are the rules for disobedience? When is it OK? What constitutes disobedience? If you're disobedient, are there ramifications? Does God then look down on me with displeasure because I chanced to come to Him without going through my husband first and don't follow the will of my husband? If this is overkill, then when should I submit and when should I not. Where are those rules? Is it when we're in a disagreement? Does it mean that I don't question him? How does this apply to my life?
The implications are HUGE and VAGUE all at the same time.
This isn't meant to be inflammatory as much as it is to question the idea that I am compelled through my religion to submit to some"one" else at all. To take the argument further, who does Mason submit to? Of course, the answer being God. So because the language of our marriage contract states that he is the "husband" and I am the "wife" (or he is the man and I am the woman), then I somehow need help communicating with God in order to determine the correct path for my life. Aren't the implications bigger than this if you really subscribe to 'wives submit to your husbands'...doesn't this hearken back to a time where women were both thought to be and required to live as substandard humans, where their voices were not heard and could not be heard because "our brains were not capable of understanding"...we were somehow inferior? Did God create us equally, or did he somehow give man and not woman the upper hand intentionally? If I was created to be lesser, then why give me the same abilities to think, process ideas and reason...why not make it something more like that of a dog or cat without the ability to reason beyond basic commands? We ask our pets to submit to us and our will. I reject the idea that I am my husband's pet and am at his whim. I see nothing loving about this, nor do I see this as a valid offering of my life and abilities to my God.
It should be noted, that Mason would never expect my submission or condone it. I believe he would recoil if I were to display this behavior (well, maybe not recoil, but he would be surprised and get bored with it after awhile :)). What he loves most about me is that I am his equal, his partner, his friend. These three definitions of our relationship know no understanding of hierarchy and authority. In order to be these things, we must work harder than anything else to bring respect and fairness to the table (and we're still working at this daily). Love is required for both of us. Submission to God is required of both of us. Working toward a common goal is required of both of us. There is no putting one's foot down. There is no "final say". I can't say that I necessarily care about this verse as it pertains to my life. I don't have to care, it's not expected of me. What I hate is the way it is a thumb over women at large within the church. We as women are tied to the rule of man (notoriously corrupt). Man submits to God directly (perfect, infallible, full of Grace and Mercy). I also hate knowing that I will raise my daughter on these words and will have to do everything I can to help her believe that she is as full of worth and as capable as any man will ever be - including her husband should she choose to marry one day.
Frankly, to submit, requires you to give up your authority over your life and give it to someone else. Now, why would God want me to give up the authority of my life to someone fallible and not just go directly to Him? Why would it be more important that I submit to my husband, rather than just love my husband as the Bible reminds our husbands to do to us? Am I somehow not capable of making a decision, disagreeing with a point, protesting injustice, solving problems, making friends, or handling situations? Why would I be asked to give final say of these things to another sinning human being? Why would I not expect to do all of this based on the same resources that a man (presumably my husband) would have at his hands - The Bible, Prayer, the church, etc? What if I had prayed and felt the Hand of God in my life and on my decision, and my husband objected? Under this pretense, who then is my authority - didn't the Bible give it to my husband as I am defined as his wife? What are the rules for disobedience? When is it OK? What constitutes disobedience? If you're disobedient, are there ramifications? Does God then look down on me with displeasure because I chanced to come to Him without going through my husband first and don't follow the will of my husband? If this is overkill, then when should I submit and when should I not. Where are those rules? Is it when we're in a disagreement? Does it mean that I don't question him? How does this apply to my life?
The implications are HUGE and VAGUE all at the same time.
This isn't meant to be inflammatory as much as it is to question the idea that I am compelled through my religion to submit to some"one" else at all. To take the argument further, who does Mason submit to? Of course, the answer being God. So because the language of our marriage contract states that he is the "husband" and I am the "wife" (or he is the man and I am the woman), then I somehow need help communicating with God in order to determine the correct path for my life. Aren't the implications bigger than this if you really subscribe to 'wives submit to your husbands'...doesn't this hearken back to a time where women were both thought to be and required to live as substandard humans, where their voices were not heard and could not be heard because "our brains were not capable of understanding"...we were somehow inferior? Did God create us equally, or did he somehow give man and not woman the upper hand intentionally? If I was created to be lesser, then why give me the same abilities to think, process ideas and reason...why not make it something more like that of a dog or cat without the ability to reason beyond basic commands? We ask our pets to submit to us and our will. I reject the idea that I am my husband's pet and am at his whim. I see nothing loving about this, nor do I see this as a valid offering of my life and abilities to my God.
It should be noted, that Mason would never expect my submission or condone it. I believe he would recoil if I were to display this behavior (well, maybe not recoil, but he would be surprised and get bored with it after awhile :)). What he loves most about me is that I am his equal, his partner, his friend. These three definitions of our relationship know no understanding of hierarchy and authority. In order to be these things, we must work harder than anything else to bring respect and fairness to the table (and we're still working at this daily). Love is required for both of us. Submission to God is required of both of us. Working toward a common goal is required of both of us. There is no putting one's foot down. There is no "final say". I can't say that I necessarily care about this verse as it pertains to my life. I don't have to care, it's not expected of me. What I hate is the way it is a thumb over women at large within the church. We as women are tied to the rule of man (notoriously corrupt). Man submits to God directly (perfect, infallible, full of Grace and Mercy). I also hate knowing that I will raise my daughter on these words and will have to do everything I can to help her believe that she is as full of worth and as capable as any man will ever be - including her husband should she choose to marry one day.
Clare Rocks the Vote
Mason and I took Clare with us to our local polling station yesterday to vote. I picked her up from school at 3:00 (after nap and snack) and we headed to meet Mason there. We are fortunate because our voting location is an active living senior center within walking distance of our house. We've voted there twice and I have found that it's always such a warm and fun atmosphere. The residents are always smiling and they put out coffee and cookies and breakfast when you got to vote. Yesterday they even had popcorn for us!
Anyway, I diverge...
We had both been talking repeatedly to her about going to vote, so when we got there she was aware and anxious to see what all the commotion was about. We were all noticeably excited to be honest. I must note how important it was to me that she be there with us. I wanted and needed her to see that we, her mom and dad, believe in the process of electing our government. I explained as much as I felt that I could without boring her, and she seemed genuinely interested. Often you could hear her saying "What's dat?"
I held her on my hip through the entire process from signing in, to receiving my ballot, to filling in the ballot, and finally delivering my ballot into the vote machine. We three received an "I voted" sticker. She was proud of her sticker. I was proud of her quiet willingness to participate in the event. Anyone with any knowledge of a two year old understands that her phenomenal behavior was the voice of her willingness to be a part of it with us (otherwise, I would have watched her flounder loudly on the floor - voicing her displeasure).
With her there, this election meant so much more than who would win. With her there, the moment was about teaching responsibility and dedication and pride in one's country without saying a single word about any of those things. It was a passing along of the ideals that have built us into who we are, the many who merge into a single voice. The notion that we must always use this power of voting so that our voices are heard. If they're not heard the first time or the second time, then keeping voting and keep working to be heard. I live in a state where I could have just as well stayed at home. I knew my vote didn't really matter. I could have been discouraged by that and just not bothered with it. But, I can't let that stop me from using my voice. It's a privilege. Yesterday, I began the long road of teaching her these same things so that she remembers them as she grows into a woman with a voice with the power to use that voice in this world we live in.
Anyway, I diverge...
We had both been talking repeatedly to her about going to vote, so when we got there she was aware and anxious to see what all the commotion was about. We were all noticeably excited to be honest. I must note how important it was to me that she be there with us. I wanted and needed her to see that we, her mom and dad, believe in the process of electing our government. I explained as much as I felt that I could without boring her, and she seemed genuinely interested. Often you could hear her saying "What's dat?"
I held her on my hip through the entire process from signing in, to receiving my ballot, to filling in the ballot, and finally delivering my ballot into the vote machine. We three received an "I voted" sticker. She was proud of her sticker. I was proud of her quiet willingness to participate in the event. Anyone with any knowledge of a two year old understands that her phenomenal behavior was the voice of her willingness to be a part of it with us (otherwise, I would have watched her flounder loudly on the floor - voicing her displeasure).
With her there, this election meant so much more than who would win. With her there, the moment was about teaching responsibility and dedication and pride in one's country without saying a single word about any of those things. It was a passing along of the ideals that have built us into who we are, the many who merge into a single voice. The notion that we must always use this power of voting so that our voices are heard. If they're not heard the first time or the second time, then keeping voting and keep working to be heard. I live in a state where I could have just as well stayed at home. I knew my vote didn't really matter. I could have been discouraged by that and just not bothered with it. But, I can't let that stop me from using my voice. It's a privilege. Yesterday, I began the long road of teaching her these same things so that she remembers them as she grows into a woman with a voice with the power to use that voice in this world we live in.
Check it out
Yeah, right over there....pictures of the most beautiful little girl in the world on Halloween.
That's right, I know, you're all jealous you can't be Ariel and pull it off like she can.
That's right, I know, you're all jealous you can't be Ariel and pull it off like she can.
Friendship
I'm really struggling today with hurt. To be honest it's because I've been trying to reach out to someone I think of as a friend lately, and I feel like I've been getting the run around each time. I'm hurt and confused and tired of reaching out at all. Frankly, I can't quite figure out why I should make any further effort. "Forget it", I think.
I don't know how not to take it personally when I hear about how full her life is with communication and commitments to others. I don't know how not to think back on the last few times we've talked or emailed and to realize that I'm the singular voice trying to reach out. I realized this morning that if I didn't call or didn't email, then the friendship would dry up. If anything, we would be merely acquaintances. It was this sudden realization that I wasn't really ever a friend at all....from here my hurt springs.
I don't know how not to take it personally when I hear about how full her life is with communication and commitments to others. I don't know how not to think back on the last few times we've talked or emailed and to realize that I'm the singular voice trying to reach out. I realized this morning that if I didn't call or didn't email, then the friendship would dry up. If anything, we would be merely acquaintances. It was this sudden realization that I wasn't really ever a friend at all....from here my hurt springs.
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