My Grandpa a Proud Marine!

Obama Opprobrious Or Not?

Obama's refusal to raise his hand for the National Anthem and his decision to give up an opportunity to meet with injured soldiers in Germany is a telltale  to the man wanting be President of the United States of America.  I have always had a deep gratitude for our military.  On my maternal side of the family I have 3 generations of military service men.  I have spent hours with my grandfather listening about his personal battle at Iwo Jima in World War II.  He was only 18 years old and fought in the bloodiest battle in marine history.  In that war 6,821 marines died and 19, 189 were wounded.  The Japanese lost 20, 703 men and on February 23, 1945 the raising of the American Flag signified our defeat of the Japanese. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/battle_of_Iwo_Jima 

Grandpa landed on the island and drove his bull dozier ahead of other marine buddies  to make a path for them.  Grandpa was under rifle fire the minute his dozier hit land.  He watched his captain explode before his very eyes and buddies around him ranging in age of 18 years old to 27 get shot down like sitting ducks.  But, they were marines and were fighting for their country, they pressed on.  Grandpa was there that day the flag was raised, he couldn't see it from where he was, but he was there.  Grandpa's last job on the island was to dig the graves of thousands of marines who fought courageously and lost their lives.  Grandpa said that they made sure all the dead had proper burials, "that's what marines do Sharon, we make sure the job is completely finished."

Grandpa's stories are frightening, exciting and valiant.  His military life alone, has embedded in me a deep pride for our flag and our anthem.  What an honor it is to have symbols of our freedom and the people who fought for our freedom.  It is opprobrious for anyone of any political association, race, or gender to dishonor the flag or our anthem.  The flag and anthem allegorically stand for the very reason Obama is where he is today.  There is an evolving reality now in 2008, not dream, that all men are created equal and America is the platform for those dreams.  Obama would not be where he is at today if it were not for the flag and the servicemen and women who fought for the very freedom he enjoys.  The freedom for all to have opinions on guns, wars, abortion, health care, immigrants, death penalty and religion.  The freedom to work, buy a house, drink running water, use electricity and yes run expensive campaigns!  All of our "luxuries"  were not just given to us.  

Mr. Obama, freedom does not come free.  Everything we do in life must be earned and sacrificed for.  I am beginning to think that all Americans should spend time in third-world, impoverished, dictator led countries so that when they step foot on American soil they unreservedly raise their hand in reverence to our flag and when they hear our Anthem they stand proud hand over their heart.

 You can find more info about this photo at http:www.snopes.com/politics/obama/anthem.asp   

Who holds the popcorn when you go to the movies?

My husband Steve and I went with some friends  to see a movie this last weekend.  It was the usual night at the movies... We parked, walked into the theatre discussed what we are going to see, bought our tickets and then stood in  line for our popcorn.  We got our popcorn without butter, although we love the butter it is on our "not now" list.    I am the red vine licorice kind of girl, but have never passed up the chance to eat the popcorn if it is sitting in front of me. 

 Steve purchased the popcorn continued to hold it as we found seats to sit down.    After the previews I began to have the desire to hold the popcorn bag but it never turned into a real need.   Steve on the other hand, simply cannot function throughout a movie if he is not holding the popcorn.  Seriously, he REALLY needs to hold the popcorn. This sequence of events is a ritual every time we are at the movies.

 Throughout the movie I would make a comment to our friends and every time I would notice that the wife was holding the popcorn.  So, the popcorn holder is not gender based  I thought? The entire movie she held the popcorn.  I began to think about when my dad would take me to the movies as a girl and even to this day, how he would always hold the popcorn.  I looked down our aisle occasionally to see if the popcorn bags around us ever moved?  And you know what?  They really didn't.  They all seem to stay with the original popcorn bag hand holder.

 I am wondering if  holding popcorn in the movie signifies  a greater  metaphor about who we are?  Or is it simply a reflection of a partner who may enjoy popcorn more than their movie mate?  

To blog or not to blog....

I love to write, or I thought I did.  One of my dear friends encouraged me to do so this past January.  I  thought it was a great idea.  Blogging would give me an outlet to share experiences in my own journey of life.    Writing would be part of  expressing my life as a woman, wife, mother of three, daughter, friend, professional counselor and especially the facet of my life where I encounter ambivalence; towards politics, spirituality, relationships and parenting. 

But four months from my last posting I am still trying to figure out how to write.  My life is full, very full, yet there is a desire for expression.  If writing is so important to me, why is it the last thing on my list to do?  What holds me back from just sitting down and writing?  

I guess for now I have decided to stop thinking about it and go to bed!

Sick Kids and Bad Weather?

It was finally around 1:00 in the morning, when our 8 month old son finally fell asleep.  He has been waking up about every three hours for about one week now.  So lately when I lay my head on my pillow at night, I have a sense of dread that prevents me from falling asleep.  Last night was no different.  I remember looking at the clock around 2:00 am and finally sleeping.

I was not asleep long when my husband shouted, "What's that?"  I was startled and trying to come to my senses, when I saw a shadow towering over my head.  I screamed, went under the covers and came back out kicking and punching at whatever was there.  It was at that point my 10 year old daughter said, "mama its me, Shealyn.  I can't sleep with the thunder."

My husband and I walked Shealyn back up to her room, and as we were putting her to bed, thunder cracked loudly again  and our six year old began screaming.  All I could think was, "please don't wake the baby."  Thankfully the baby was not woken.... close call though.

So today while driving the kids to school I thought with confusion and a little bewilderment:  Why is it that kids usually get sick at night?  And... Why is it that thunderstorms happen when we are all sound asleep?  I'm not sure why it happens that way, but I sure do hope that tonight all my kids are well and the weather is peaceful.

What voice do you hear?

One of the best things about my job is the amazing people I get to work with!  On Thursday I was working with an 11 year old girl who I will call Lucy.  She is brilliant, charming, sensitive, creative and has an eagerness to learn about herself. 

Her parents are going through a divorce, a difficult one.  She is like most children who find themselves in this situation thinking, "there is something I can do to make it better."  However, through the process of trying to make things better,  and be everything to everyone, negotiator, peacemaker, and little miss sunshine... the child actually stops listening to that internal voice and begins to revolve around the adults in their life.

As we were discussing this concept of listening to yourself and letting the adults figure it out, 

she said, "I guess sometimes you are deaf to yourself, but can still hear everyone else?"  

Yes, that is exactly what happens...  Whatever trauma we maybe experiencing, sometimes we so desperately want it to go away and to experience peace we begin to sacrifice anything, and sometimes that sacrifice is our own voice.   We do become deaf to that still, small voice that tells us which direction to go, the voice that protects, feels, and hopes.  The more we listen to the loud voices around us, the more confusing life becomes and thus the journey becomes weary and tiresome.  

There is irony in Lucy's metaphor.  When we think of someone who is deaf, they CAN hear their own self, but CANNOT hear those voices around them.   

So, for Lucy, Thursday was the beginning of freedom in her journey.  Freedom to begin hearing herself again.  To listen to her own heartbeat, to hear her own voice.  I believe as she listens she will find a peace within the storm...

"I guess it wasn't a Good Friday for Jesus"

As I put my two daughters down to bed this Good Friday night, we began to  talk about this day that was set aside to remember Jesus' death on the cross.  We talked about how he was beaten, spat upon, whipped, a crown of thorns crammed into His head and then nailed to a tree.  

We talked about how He was betrayed by Judas and Peter, how people cursed and made fun of Him, how He had to watch His own mother's agony and His friends mourning as He hung there to die.   The discussion was very reverent and somber.  And, how fitting for my six year old Sophie Grace to soberly say, "I guess it wasn't a Good Friday for Jesus."

No, it wasn't a Good Friday for Jesus.  He died a horrible death and as my daughter finished her statement, I could feel a rise of anger within my heart.  Yes, it was good that Jesus died on the cross and saved us from our sins!  But, it is just so easy to forget all that He had to go through to make it a "Good Friday."  

So, for the rest of my Good Friday, I am pondering and mourning the cruel act of the Crucifixion that Jesus, the Paschal Lamb had to endure.  

Holy Thursday

 The night in which Jesus performed the last supper  for his disciples.  He knew what lay ahead of him that next day on the cross and yet he humbly washed the feet of His disciples in an amazing gesture of service.  He became the paschal lamb that save us from our own depravity and demise.  

Redemption means taking action!

Redeem.... This week more than any other Easter week in my life have I reflected on this word in such a way that it catches my breath.  Webster defines redeem as to make good or change for the better.  When I think of Jesus' death on the cross I am amazed at the change for the better it made in my life and the world!  Where would I be in my own situations if He had not already redeemed them? I may not see redemption this side of heaven, but I know His hand is upon them.  Redemption almost requires a choice to act; if we are not active in wanting to make change for the better then how can anything be redeemed?  For Jesus knew exactly the kind of death He was going to die and He had every opportunity to back out!  However, He knew what the consequences of backing out would be and I believe acted on courage and strength to follow through with His self-sacrifice.  I admire the courage of those who choose to actively try to redeem a situation.   This last year I was on the receiving end of redemption and it filled my soul with gratitude and hope.  I was witness, this last year,  to the redemption of God and the courage of one who made a change for the better in my life!  Thank you, for I am forever grateful!

Birthdays Bring About Reflection

Angela, Rebecca and I celebrating my 36th

I finally reached mile marker 36 in my life.  Although this last year did not feel like I was cruising in any direction,  in reflection I was cruising in several directions, getting nowhere.  I am not one to enjoy that kind of traveling.  I am not the best person to take on a road trip for the simple fact I want to get where I am going and quickly.  So when my life slowed to first gear and encountered many dead ends, I longed for birthday 36th.  Not to celebrate, but to escape being in first gear.  I needed direction, I needed a map, at least get me in 3rd gear to where I am headed somewhere!  What I began to realize was that first gear was exactly where I needed to be.  I needed to stop and embrace the relief of knowing that even if you never get to where you want to go, being right where you are is the place where you are suppose to be.  And this lesson has been a great birthday gift to jump start my 36th year!