The Shape of Evil Redux

Three years ago, I sat at my dining room table after having put the Chickadees to bed.  My husband had gone from the birthday party we held for Chickadee #2 straight to the airport, where he left for a week-long business trip to an exotic locale.  All day, I had been avoiding thinking about September 11th, 2001.  All day, I'd smiled and laughed and joined in the general celebration of our younger daughter.

I was exhausted and sad that my husband would be away, stressed out as only an introvert who has hosted a party can be.  I made the mistake of turning on the television after the chickadees were asleep.  This post was the result.

Today, I feel more than ever that perfect love drives out all fear.

I feel more strongly than ever that hatred is a dead end.

As I, with my countrymen, contemplate yet another campaign in this seemingly endless war against evil, I believe more than ever in the particularity of human experience and the importance of honoring that individuality.

People are not symbols.
People are not pawns to be moved on a geopolitical chessboard.
People are not expendable
or collateral damage
or civilians
or citizens
or "the people"
or Americans
or Syrians
or "the children"
or any other collective noun which inevitably becomes an abstraction.

NO.
They are individuals.
Each one has a story.
Each one has a family.
Each one is irretrievably lost to us...

but none is lost to God.    
They are in his heart.
They ARE his heart.

Rest in Peace.

Seven Quick Takes -- all I can manage in these scattered days.

--- 1 ---

It is the second full week of school here and we are loving life.  I have a first grader who has homework for the first time and a fourth grader who keeps complaining about the weight of her backpack.  I went to Back-to-School night for my fourth-grader tonight and had to change classes for the first time in many many years.  It was a lot more stressful than I remembered.

  --- 2 ---

Seamus Heaney died last Friday.  I was so sad over the weekend and found myself tearing up at odd moments.  I wrote this tribute.

  --- 3 ---

I have reserved my rental car for my trip to Irving next month.  I'm getting excited.  Twenty-five years is a long time....

--- 4 ---

Speaking of Irving, I found lectures by Louise Cowan on the Dallas Institute of Arts and Humanities website.  I am so excited.  I listened to Dr. Cowan talk about Faulkner and Go Down, Moses while I made some really excellent Greek Turkey Meatballs and Tzaziki for dinner.  The tears that were filling my eyes were not from the red onion in the recipe but because Dr. Cowan reminds me of why I wanted to save the world through poetry.

--- 5 ---

I started Medifast last week.  I was not super happy about it, but my doctor basically gave me no choice.  I'm pretty satisfied with it, to be honest, because it takes the thinking out of dieting, and I have lost weight.  I check my total lost tomorrow, but so far I have been thinking differently and I think that is a good thing.  I've also been acting differently, which is even better.

--- 6 ---

This morning, on the way to school, Chickadee #1 asked me if you had to be related to your godparents.  This opened a discussion about baptism, and the chickadees asked me why we had godparents anyway.  That opened the door for what I think it was a good explanation. I told them that we, as Catholics, believe that our relationship is not just between us and God but between us and the community and God.  As parents, we are the ones who are responsible for teaching our children about God and nurturing their relationship with him.  However, we rely on other people to help us and those are the godparents and others.  It's like we are all in a boat together, working together to sail towards the same destination. Some people don't want to go to that destination and decide they want to go somewhere else that they think is better.  So they jump overboard and swim away in the other direction.  Some of them drown, some of them get eaten by sharks, and some of them are rescued.  But we are all trying to get to someplace good, and the best bet is to stay on the boat and work together to get to heaven.  They seemed to get it.  It's amazing what you can get
into a 3 mile drive in traffic.
--- 7 ---

I'm listening to one of my favorites, Bill Whittle. He is so articulate.  Love him.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

God Smacks, Again.

I've been feeling really discouraged lately.  I haven't been writing as much because I don't have anything positive to report and I've been treading water in many areas of my life.  School is almost at an end for the year -- I have a kindergartner graduating in two days, and a 3rd grader who is going to be in the upper wing of the school next year -- no more primary wing for her!  The end of the year is always stressful for everyone -- finishing up projects, end-of-year parties, bidding friends good-bye for the summer.  All of it is wonderful, to a certain extent, but also busy and overwhelming.  Add to this mix a new activity for the children, swim team, and it's all becoming a blur. Swim team is wonderful, but there are a lot of moving parts, practice every day, and expectations of parents about which I'm not entirely clear.

Discouragement:  I'm always going to be like this.  I'm just not strong enough/together enough/deserving enough to change.  

And then, today, at mass, a sermon so powerful that I had to take notes.

God makes hopeless cases hopeful: The widows whose sons have died.  Abram and Sarai.  Zechariah and Elizabeth.  

Bring all your anxiety to the Lord.  Do not give in to defeat.  Or anxiety.  Or depression.

Consider God's promises.  We have a God who is mighty in battle. Let him fight for you.  Look at Romans, 10:11.  Whatever your problem may be, bring it to the Lord.  Jesus is there to help you.  Let him be compassionate to you.  

God does not change.  We have the same God today that has always been.  

Do not surrender.  Persevere.  Call on the Lord.  In his own time, in his own way, he will help you.  He will change your hopelessness to hope.

Sometimes it's really scary.  But I'm so grateful for the God smacks.

  

Flawless Girl

The other day, I saw a beautiful video from Dove about women's perceptions of themselves.  It's part of their Campaign for Real Beauty.  It was very moving and poignant, and I've been wondering how others would describe me to a forensic artist.  I look at my face and see its flaws - the skin tone that is muted, the circles under my eyes, the falling chin, the short eyelashes and small eyes and mouth.  I try not to look too closely:

(FYI, the poem on the whiteboard to my left is James Joyce's Go Seek Her Out, which I put on my poetry whiteboard in dual honor of Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day).  Guess I need to change to T.S. Eliot's opening lines of The Waste Land or Chaucer's opening lines of The Canterbury Tales.  I try to keep it fresh.  I'm hoping the chickadees will learn to love poetry by osmosis.)

Right now, my daughters are watching Phineas and Ferb, probably the only program they like than I can stand (with the exception of the Science Channel's How It's Made).  The episode is called "Attack of the 50 Foot Sister" and is a fantastic send up of the unreasonable expectations women have of themselves and how the "beauty industry" feeds their insecurities.  My favorite is the song, "Flawless Girl"

Psalm 139.  Psalm 139.  Psalm 139. 

I know I'll never be a flawless girl.  And really, I don't want to be -- I'd rather be able to run out of the house to pick up the girls after a long day of spring cleaning in a tunic and pj bottoms (sadly, my outfit of today).  But the pressure is still there. 

Psalm 139 works for me.