My babies seemed to know me after they were born.
Right from the beginning, they preferred to be snuggled against me over any other place. I felt the same way.
This video records this beautiful phenomena.
My babies seemed to know me after they were born.
Right from the beginning, they preferred to be snuggled against me over any other place. I felt the same way.
This video records this beautiful phenomena.
Of course he is.
Mark Zamuda, former vice principal at Eastside Catholic School in Seattle, is now suing the school. The school dismissed the openly gay vice principal when he “married” his same sex partner.
Students at the Catholic school staged a walk out and at least one Catholic priest stood tall against the collar he’s wearing by coming out in support of the students.
Now, said principal is adding the cherry on top by filing a lawsuit against the school and the archdiocese. According to a Christian News article, Mr Zamuda’s attorneys are arguing that his position as a coach, teacher and vice principal was “administrative” and not “affiliated with the Church’s teaching.”
“I didn’t ask to be gay,” Mr Zamuda advises. However, he did, presumably, apply for employment at a Catholic School. Since he says he’s a “lifelong Catholic,” he also probably knew that the Catholic Church teaches that sex outside marriage between one man and one woman is a mortal sin. He may even have read the employment contract that he signed agreeing that his public behaviors would at all times be consistent with the values and teachings of the Catholic Church. He may also have read the same requirement in the employee handbook.
How will this nasty little dirt fight end?
Let’s just sit back and see if the renegade Catholics in Seattle can top themselves in thumbing their noses at the Church this Lent, or if they’ve reached their true bottom.
My mother always was one to sweat the little things.
Maybe that’s why I’m so blithe and indifferent to details. Mama always took care of them for me.
The difference — and it is rather stark — between her crossing of every t and dotting of every i before dementia and her going over and over and over and over the same thing 20 times in 20 minutes after dementia is my sanity.
It’s especially tiring when I’m tired to begin with. And it’s especially overwhelming when I’m tired to begin with and she piles on by going in a circle from one little thing to the next and back again.
So it was yesterday. I had a pause and could take her to lunch. I picked her up at her day care, and we were off. We have a thing we do with lunches and such. I give her money. She puts it in her purse, and then, when we get to the restaurant, she proudly (and with no memory that I gave her the money in the first place) buys my lunch for me. Mama loves to treat me by taking me out to lunch. She gets a big kick out the whole thing, and frankly, so do I.
The trouble was that yesterday she kept going into worry wart mode because she couldn’t find the $40 I’d given her. Every few minutes, she would open her purse and begin searching for it. She had folded the bills into a lump the size of a postage stamp and tucked it behind the photos in her billfold (she’s big on hiding things) and that meant they weren’t in the folding money slot when she looked for them.
She would become upset, and I would pull the car over, take her billfold and show her where she’d hidden her money. She would nod sagely and say “Ohhhh, that’s where it is.” Five minutes later, she’d start looking again. I don’t remember how many times I pulled the car over and showed her that money.
We had a fun lunch, talking about how good broccoli and cheese soup is and visiting with the waitress who goes to our church. When we got back to the car, she wanted me to take her to buy a Coke at a drive in. We headed for the drive-in and she started the “I’ve lost my money” thing again.
I pulled over a couple of times and showed her where her money was. Then, after we paid for the Cokes and were driving away, she did it one. more. time.
Before I could zip my lip, I said, “Mama, will you puleez stop it?”
I didn’t yell. I didn’t raise my voice or grit my teeth. It was plaintive rather than angry. I think that was what got her attention. The sound of distress in my voice triggered her Mama gene. She put the purse away and started talking about something else.
Which almost immediately moved into a lament over the fact that she doesn’t have a car anymore; which went rather quickly to her standard tale about how I have “stolen” her car and she wishes she hadn’t let me do that to her.
After she finally wore that out, we had a nice talk about my piano lessons. She’s fascinated with my piano lessons, and seems to believe that I’m headed for a career as a concert pianist. That’s standard Mama, by the way. Everything I do has always been the best thing anyone ever did in the whole history of the world.
We drove past part of the tornado damage from last spring, and she talked for a while about that.
Then, we parked the car so I could return a book to the library. She picked up the book I’d been reading (American Prometheus) and looked at the photo of Robert Oppenheimer on its cover. My mother, who can’t remember where she put money in her own billfold five minutes ago, looked at that photo and said,
“He developed the bomb for this country. He saved the lives of a lot of boys who would have died invading Japan.”
She paused, flipped open the book and looked at the photos. “Our government was really dirty to him, accused him of being a traitor, and after what he had done for us.”
She closed the book and looked at me with eyes that belonged to the mother I used to know. “I wrote a letter protesting that,” she said. “They were only after him because he told the truth about how dangerous those bombs were.”
All I know about Robert Oppenheimer is what I read in this one book and sketchy facts about the Manhattan Project. I know of his famous comment, “Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds,” when the first atomic bomb was exploded at Trinity site. He’s a feature of history to me.
I never knew my mother had an opinion about Robert Oppenheimer. I certainly never knew she wrote a letter to her Congressman protesting his treatment by our government.
I took the book and returned it to the library. When I got back to the car, the mental door had closed and Mama returned to chiding me for stealing her car.
But for that brief moment, the photo of a long-dead scientist cracked open the doorway into who she had been as an adult and let me see a brief glimpse of a bit of the hidden things of her life that I never knew.
This is Robert Oppenheimer, discussing his memory of the first atomic explosion.
Pro life Okies are well acquainted with Dr Nareshkuma Gandalal Patel.
He runs an abortion clinic in an office complex on the north side of Oklahoma City.
Operation Rescue has recently filed complaints against Dr Patel with the Oklahoma Attorney General’s office. The complaints concern violations of clinic regulations. One of the allegations — “Improper disposal of medical waste” — resurrects memories of previous problems the doctor has had.
In 1993, Dr Patel was in the news for dumping the bodies of babies he had aborted in the countryside. He admitted that he had disposed of nearly 60 infant corpses by putting them in plastic bags and dumping the bags in a field near Shawnee, Oklahoma.
He has been disciplined twice by the Oklahoma Medical Board for Unprofessional Conduct relating to his abortion business. He has also been charged with forcible oral sodomy and sexual battery of his patients. An employee of his has sought and received a protective order against Dr Patel.
Needless to say, it wasn’t a surprise when I read that Dr Patel is in trouble again. What did surprise me is the wealth he has accrued from his abortion business. According to Operation Rescue, Patel owns $39.4 million in real estate and has a net worth of $28 million. His personal income exceeds $1.4 million.
From Operation Rescue:
Oklahoma City, OK – Millionaire Oklahoma abortionist Nareshkumar Gandalal “Naresh” Patel, who once faced charges of raping and sodomizing his abortion patients, is once again under investigation after Operation Rescue filed a five-count complaint against him with the State Attorney General’s office, the Oklahoma Health Department, and the Oklahoma Medical Board.
The complaints were based on documents and medical waste that had been discarded in a publicly-accessible trash receptacle near Patel’s Outpatient Services for Women abortion clinic in Oklahoma City. The material was received by Operation Rescue from an anonymous source on March 18, 2013.
Many of our priests are homosexual.
This is a much-known but little talked about fact of Catholic life.
Some of these homosexual priests are not faithful priests.
That is also a much-known but little talked about fact of Catholic life.
But most homosexual priests are truly devout, faithful priests who are loving pastors.
That is a very well known, but again, little talked about, fact of Catholic life.
As we move forward into this post Christian world, all of us, laity and clergy alike, are going to be challenged by the larger culture. We will find ourselves having to “choose this day” whom we will serve over and again.
We will have to choose between our political parties and the teachings of Christ.
We will have to choose between old friends we love like family and the teachings of Christ.
We will sometimes find ourselves standing alone, harried by professed unbelievers and fallen believers working in tandem to force us to compromise our followership in Christ to go along with the crowd. It may get quite ugly.
As all this winds through, our need for one another will become important to our emotional strength and peace of mind. We are settling in for a long fight. We need the sustenance that only true Christian community can offer to carry us through.
Our priests are going to have to lead us through this. The need for priests who are on fire for Christ and His Church has never been greater. We need their leadership.
And they need our support.
Scripture says that without vision the people perish. The vision that will sustain us and enable us to re-convert our lost culture must come from the clergy.
These priests, most of whom are totally unprepared for it, are going to have to dig down inside themselves and find the courage and the faith to lead us through the storms ahead. It’s won’t be easy for them. Many of them will and are failing the test.
There is no doubt — none — that at least some of the ones who stand for Christ will be attacked for doing it. Which leads me to the crux of this post.
Homosexual priests are especially vulnerable to being “outed” and blackmailed by threats of being “outed.” I personally know a priest (who is not from Oklahoma) who was “outed” to his parish as punishment for his support of traditional marriage.
When this happens, we are going to have to stand with these men. It does not matter whether a priest is homosexual or straight. They are, or should be, celibate men who have given their lives to Christ and His Church. The only concern we should have is whether or not they lead us in the authentic teachings of the faith.
We need them to shepherd us through these times, and as the times get uglier, we are going to have to support them when they are maliciously and unjustly attacked.
I am not in any way talking about hiding child abuse or turning a blind eye to reprehensible behavior. I believe that we in the laity have a right to expect authenticity from our priests.
I am talking about something quite specific, and that is the threat of blackmail of faithful priests who happen to be homosexual by “outing” them as gay to their parishes. When someone decides to “out” father so-and-so, we need to look at father so-and-so with the same tenderness that he offers us in the confessional. We need to judge him by his works, his walk with Christ, and not by the attacks which are leveled against him for his fidelity.
A priest who preaches Christ and who does it fearlessly, who consoles us in our grief and forgives us in our shame, is literally a gift from God. When such a priest is attacked, we owe him our support in return.
First it was Big Love and its top tier talent. Then it was Sister Wives.
Now, we’ve got My Five Wives from TLC.
The commentary that I’ve seen on this show so far has been unalloyed promotion of polygamy. There are no complicating questions or even allusions to hint at a darker side of the misogynist practice of polygamy. It’s sell job, flat out.
I also haven’t heard a nay-saying word from the sisters in the feminist tier. All is silent on the feminist front as the mainlining of uncritical acceptance of polygamy to the American public moves forward.
The polygamous My Five Wives is being hyped as “about love” and “freedom” and, well, as normal and attractive as apple pie and Fourth of July fireworks.
We are treated to beautiful white bread kids with million dollar smiles, lisping “we just love one another,” while the American-Girl-grown-up wives assure us that this is just another alternative lifestyle. There is, if they are to believed, no misogyny roiling beneath this unctuous elevation of polygamy to a new norm, and certainly no sick or destructive agenda.
Remember a few eye blinks of time ago when anyone who said that redefining marriage to allow two men or two women to “marry” would lead to polygamy was called an idiot/bigot/homophobe/hater?
Now, it seems that anyone who dares to say a critical word about polygamy is an idiot/bigot/hater. I’ve got the insults in my delete file to prove it.
Meanwhile, those earlier idiot/bigot/homophobe/haters who said that redefining marriage would open the gates to who knows what — including polygamy — are looking more and more like prophets.
The legalization of gay marriage is still moving and the sell job on polygamy is already well along.
You do remember how this works, don’t you?
These entertainment series are a softening-up process that the media pus the American people through. This process makes the case that polygamists lead Ozzie and Harriet lives, and objections to polygamy are all in the minds and mouths of narrow-minded and backward-looking Christian zealots. There is, of course, no corresponding “case” from the other side of the question allowed. It all goes one way, and it the drum beat in favor of gay marriage and now polygamy never stops or slows.
The arguments that the “stars” of My Five Wives make in interviews fit the template we’ve had used on us before.
We’re “normal times five” they tell us. The man and his harem are not looking backwards to some old-school polygamy. Not at all. They consider themselves “progressive” and “independent.” Rather than being part of an evil right-wing religious sect, they are “spiritually driven.”
“We want to dispel all those, you know, myths about rumors about polygamist families,” they tell us. “We’re healthy, our kids are amazing, you know, and good citizens, good students, and you know, we’ve got a good family.”
Or, as it says on the TLC website, “love keeps us grounded.”
They are, in short, Ozzie and Harriet on steroids; the next new normal in cultural implosion of post Christian America.
From the Mail Online:
Just because he has five wives and 24 children doesn’t mean Brady Williams isn’t normal.
Or at least that’s the message he wanted America to receive during an interview with the Huffington Post in which the polygamist stars of TLC’s ‘My Five Wives’ spoke candidly about hopes to dispel the myths surrounding their unconventional lifestyle.
‘All of America’s having sex,’ Brady said. ‘And it’s no big deal to just answer it and to just say ‘Duh no we’re not perverted, we’re not twisted, we’re just normal.’
‘Normal times five.’
The family, which belongs to no church, considers itself progressive and independent.
Williams and his wives slowly withdrew from the fundamentalist Mormon church in their rural community outside of Salt Lake City during the mid-2000s after re-evaluating their core beliefs.
The family no longer teaches the tenets of fundamental Mormonism to their children at home, opting instead to take from other teachings such as Buddhism to instill good, morale values in their two dozen children, who range in age from 2-20.
Brady now calls the family ‘spiritually driven.’
‘We want to dispel all those, you know, myths and rumors about polygamist families,’ Robyn said.
‘The ones that have been in the spotlight, there’s things like abuse and stuff that go on but not every polygamist family is like that. We wanted to show that we’re normal, we’re healthy, our kids are amazing, you know, and good citizens, good students, and you know we’ve got a good family.’
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2572599/Were-normal-times-five-Polygamist-stars-My-Five-Wives-ask-people-not-judge-unconventional-family.html#ixzz2vDmjBraz
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Talk about burying the lead.
CNN did just about everything they could to hide the results of their own poll on American attitudes toward the legality of abortion.
The bottom line, which you have to read the entire article and then add it up for yourself to find, is that a full 58% of Americans think abortion should be illegal in most circumstances. Twenty percent of Americans think it should be illegal in all circumstances.
Here’s the pertinent paragraph, which can be found about half way down the article:
According to the poll, 27% say that abortion should be legal in all circumstances, 13% say it should be legal in most circumstances, 38% say that it should be legal in few circumstances, and 20% say abortion should always be illegal.
To read the entire article, go here.
The gift is mostly to those of us who are blessed to spend time with these oldsters. Never think the elderly are useless. Even when they grow vague with dementia, they are our best and wisest teachers.
How to do Lent in the fast lane?
More to the point, how to do Lent when I’m catching myself running in circles?
This time of year is uber busy, fragmented and exhausting for Oklahoma House Members. How do I find time to pray more than Now I lay me and Bless us oh Lord?
What of the disciplines of fasting, alms and deep examination of conscience? Does all that go by the board when I’m stuck eating whatever is put in front of me and almost never get a moment alone?
I’m certain that I’m not the only person who finds themselves caught in a whirlpool of busyness during these days of Lent. That is, after all, our modern curse.
We are overwhelmed by a tsunami of too much: Too much stuff, too many activities and far too many people competing for our attention.
“Doing” Lent under those circumstances can easily reduce itself down to its lowest common denominator. Tuna sandwich for lunch on Fridays? Check. Grilled cheese for lunch on Ash Wednesday? Check. Confession, whether you need it or not? Check and check. And, oh yes, keep your sticky little fingers out of the candy dish at work.
Here we are, dealing with the fulcrum of history; the moment at which everything changed. We are considering the point at which the hopelessness of vanity, vanity all is vanity before Calvary was transformed into the birth of life everlasting after Calvary. Everything turns on that hilltop with the three crosses 2,000 years ago.
Lent is designed to take us there. It is meant to bring us to our knees before the foot of the cross where we can be born again.
But when you’re being drug by the runaway horse of overwhelming busyness that is our modern life, how do you do more than the minimum? How do you find the space, the quiet, the time to hear that still small voice?
I’ve dealt with this for years and to be honest, I’ve never found a fully satisfactory answer for it. Doing the minimum isn’t so minimum when it’s all you can manage. There is an element of faithfulness involved in those tuna sandwiches and skipped candy.
The trouble with doing the minimum is that it leaves you basically the same as you were before you did it. You don’t necessarily slide back spiritually the way you would if you didn’t try at all, but you won’t grow in Christ by doing the minimum. The minimum leaves you spiritually fed, but at a bare sustenance level.
Doing the minimum is just a step above not doing at all. It’s easy to slide from the minimum to less than the minimum and a deteriorating faith walk that leaves you half Christian.
How does anyone grow spiritually while living the lives we do, where emotional fracturing and distancing from faith seem built into the structure of it?
My advice, which is the advice of a woman whose Lenten practices are mostly a matter of minimums sandwiched into busyness, is to do at least the minimum, no matter what. Even if it means eating really substandard food like a spoonful of banquet carrots with a spoonful of banquet mashed potatoes with some kind of something that’s supposed to be gravy for lunch, do the minimum. Do it even if you can’t for the life of you remember your sins and have to search your memory while you’re standing in line outside the confessional.
I have a completely personal theology for doing the minimum that I call “God supplies the lacks.” What I mean by that is that I trust that if I don’t remember to confess every sin, or even my most important sins, God, Who knows everything about me, will supply the lacks and forgive me my forgetfulness, He supplies the lacks in my confession. God supplies the lacks. I don’t have anything but my own faith to base that on, but I believe it to a profound level.
I am not talking about deliberate refusal to do what you should when you have the opportunity to do it. I mean when you’re grinding metal in your life, God will supply the lacks to see you through it spiritually intact. All you have to do is your part, by which I mean those minimums offered up with the knowledge that the minimum is not really enough to keep you spiritually healthy for the long haul and a firm intention to do more and do better when you can.
This leads me to the “when you can” part of that. If your life is like Marine Corp boot camp 52 weeks out of every year, you really need to re-think your way of living. Otherwise, you’re going to be talking to God face to face a lot sooner than you expect. No one can use themselves up without breaking stride for their whole span of days.
You have to take time outs. It is essential to your sanity, health and purpose as a human being. For a workaholic, time out requires discipline. It is just as difficult for someone who is inured to a life of constant stimulation and overwork to take a pause as it is for a couch potato to get up and get moving. They are two sides of the same self-destructive coin.
Obeying the commandment to “remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy” is your best friend in this. I didn’t know this a year ago. I didn’t even know it six months ago. I had one of those spoing! moments of insight that occasionally come along. I realized that I had been breaking one of the commandments without realizing the significance of what I was doing.
It’s not easy for someone like me to quit working for one full day each week. But I have found it to be my new best friend. I recommend it for anyone and everyone as a bare minimum of Christian living. It not only rests your mind; it opens your heart to God. I was surprised by the effect this simple act of obedience had on my closeness with Christ. If your job requires you to work on Sunday and you can’t get out of it, my advice is take your sabbath rest on another day. Do not cheat yourself of this great gift of the Sabbath.
Sunday rest is another bare minimum of Christian followership. But if you add it to the bare minimums of fasting, confession, weekly eucharist, you will find that they combine to lift you out of the basement Christian walk of maintenance spirituality and into a gentle curve of Christian growth.
Doing Lent in the fast lane is often about doing the minimum. The minimum will starve you spiritually over the long haul. But if you do it with love of Christ, you will be able to make up for it at other times.
That’s how I get through it. I do the minimum, and whatever else I can in addition to that minimum. And I trust God to supply the lacks.