A Tough Journey

Romans 8:26 In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.

My daughter started palliative care a little over a week ago. Palliative care is not hospice, but there is recognition that comes with that action—that life is precarious.

It has been a tough month. It has been a tough year. It has been a tough journey. I did not understand six years ago how my daughter’s life would be changed by the utterance of two words, moyamoya disease. I did not understand how my life would be changed.

There are days when my faith burns bright and nights when it is a mere flicker, vulnerable to the next strong gust.

On my worst days, it is hard to rise, put on a face and hold back from raging at the world, raging at God for her suffering. There are days I want to toss my faith in the garbage can, because it feels easier to live with the belief there is no God than accept the idea that God is allowing her pain.

On my best days, I only see God’s gifts. She received a diagnosis. Too many patients are left wondering and hopeless searching for answers. She has been given the means to afford travel to top specialists across the country. Too many patients are left untreated because they have no insurance or have the wrong insurance. She was gifted a son, before she became physically unable to have children. She has been gifted a husband who is unflinching in his support. She has been gifted with a sister who makes her laugh on her most difficult days. She has been gifted with in-laws who pour out their love, time and energy to make her life easier on a daily basis. She has been gifted with friends who are family she is able to turn to with her hopes and her fears. She has been blessed by six more years of life.

In between my best and my worst days, I remind myself, I have been blessed with a life, not promised an easy life. I have been gifted a husband, family and friends who make my life easier. I have been gifted with Knowledge; knowledge there is a God who, despite my faithlessness, is faithful to me; knowledge there is a God who has sacrificed his own child to assure my child’s everlasting life; knowledge there is a God who loves my daughter infinitely more than me; knowledge God has a plan for my child’s life.

And still there are days where the weight of my daughter’s hardship crushes my soul and I can only groan.

Stop Legislating Decisions, Start Enabling Parenthood

 

“We cannot love issues, but we can love people. And the love of people reveals to us the way to deal with issues.” Henry Nouwen

 Should a mother be forced to sacrifice her life for the life of an unborn child? What if that mother has other children? Should she knowingly leave them motherless? Should a mother be forced to carry a child to term knowing that the child’s death is inevitable upon birth? Should a woman have to be forever connected to her rapist through shared parenthood? Should a daughter have to carry the child of her father or brother? Is a child who had sex with a child meant to have a child? Should a mother bring another child into the world knowing she is unable to feed the children she has? Should mothers be forced to carry a child for nine months, grow attached to that child only to have to give the child up, because they can’t afford to feed and clothe their child? 

These are heart wrenching, complex situations that women face daily across our country. The answers to these questions have not been made clearer by the supreme court’s latest ruling.

Politicians have no place in these decisions; the government has no place in these decisions; strangers have no place in these decisions. Christians have only one place in these decisions - Love thy neighbor.

If you are pro-life and committed to stopping abortions, please consider you may have won a battle this week, but you are not winning the war. If you truly want to impact the abortion rate, then stop legislating decisions and start enabling parenthood. Elect leaders who will support universal birth control, fund parent education programs, childcare subsidy programs, early education programs, food assistance programs and continuing education programs. Stop sending your money to politicians and start sending it to organizations that make a difference in a child’s life after birth. Make it easier for women to say “yes” to motherhood and you will do far more than reduce the abortion rate; you will make a difference in children’s lives.

The Pepsi vs. Coke Debate

My husband and I moved to Ft. Hood, Texas, 37 years ago. He was a young lieutenant fresh out of the basic course. I was 20-year-old bride six months into my first year of marriage. 

My first year as an Army wife should have been easy. It wasn’t. I was an Army brat who knew nothing about the Army. My dad had been gone for large segments of my childhood. By the time I was in tenth grade, he had served two overseas tours in Vietnam and one unaccompanied tour in Iran. When he was home, he was distant and struggled with PTSD and alcoholism. It took most of my childhood and two inpatient rehab stints for him to find his way to sobriety through Alcoholics Anonymous. 

My mother went to college at the early age of 15. She married at 17, had my brother at 19 and me at 20. An Army brat herself, she never fully embraced military life. She was too busy raising my brother and me and worrying about my dad’s drinking. She feared his drinking would cost him his job. She went back to school when I was in fourth grade, won an internship with a local news station by the time I was in fifth grade and by sixth grade her career had skyrocketed. She became the first female anchor on a network news station in Orlando. My parents separated during my dad’s second stint in rehab. They eventually divorced when I was in tenth grade. 

The Army was my dad’s employer; it was never a central player in my life. This left me unprepared for Army life. Within weeks of arriving in Texas, my husband deployed to a field exercise for thirty days. One exercise became multiple exercises. He was gone as often as he was home. There were no mobile phones, personal computers or internet to enable communications. Long distance phone calls to friends and families were unaffordable. Military life would have been extremely lonely had it not been for the friends I developed through the battalion wives’ support group, a group of ladies of all ages, races, demographic backgrounds, political and religious beliefs.

My husband’s company commander’s wife took me under her wing and into her heart. To this day she is the sister I never had. We are different in many ways, but the same where it counts. She would do anything for me; I would do anything for her. She leans right of center; I lean left of center. Over the years, we have disagreed on politics as often as we have agreed on them. We have voted the same in elections; we have voted differently in elections. We both voted for the same candidate in the last presidential election. It would not have mattered if we did not. A single vote could not erase 37 years of knowing her heart. 

Early in our friendship, we were ordering drinks in a diner. I asked the waitress for a Coke. She told me they only carried Pepsi products. My response was to ask for something else. My friend ordered a Pepsi. She went on to tell me she preferred Pepsi to Coke because Coke was too sweet. I responded with surprise and said, “No way! Pepsi is sweeter! AND it is too flat.” She argued back saying, “Definitely not. Coke is flatter!” We looked at each other and burst out laughing. That conversation still defines our friendship.  

Over the years, some things have changed; some things have stayed the same. She prefers Coke now. I traded in soda for tea. We are still two people who see the world quite differently at times, but 37 years later we still choose to share our drinks together. Our differences have born a beautiful friendship.   

              

The Sin in this story isn't about Them

There has been an onslaught of new legislation across the country targeting LGBTQ+ rights. Obscured by language about protecting parents' and women’s rights, at the heart of the legislation is a fierce push by religious fundamentalists to reverse the normalization of LGBTQ+ individuals.

I am a 57-year-old, white Christian woman. I first heard the word “gay” used to describe someone as other than happy in fourth grade. The word was being hurled at a classmate on my school bus who was angry and upset. Kids on the bus were giggling, laughing and repeating the word. I knew something was terribly wrong about the way the children were acting, but I did not fully understand the undercurrent of shame that clung to their insult. I did not understand how to comfort my classmate and combat the cruelty. I did not understand that telling my classmate to ignore what was said because it wasn’t true, would not/could not feel comforting. I did not understand that my “good” intentions served only to reinforce a false flag that my classmate had something to feel shame about.

Fifty years ago, society taught me that men were not supposed to sleep with men and women were not supposed to sleep with women. Religious leaders taught me homosexuality was sinful. Since then, I found Jesus. I studied his word. I developed and cultivated my relationship with God. This relationship forever changed my views.

If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen? 1 John 4:20

What I have come to understand is the sin in the LGBTQ+ story does not sit with the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer person perfectly designed by God, but in the behavior of the people who bully, ostracize, humiliate, assault, persecute and turn away from them.

The sin in this story isn’t about them.

Fifty years later, the bullies on the bus have grown up. They are clothed in suits and stilettos, carry a bible for the cameras and brandish a powerful pen, but they are still the same kids who used insults to gain favor and taunts to instill fear. Only now they have the power to do more, take more, harm more.

Fifty years ago, I did a terrible job protecting a friend. Fifty years later, I have grown up and am armed with a vote, a voice and my own pen.

If you are concerned or just want to find out more about the latest push of anti-LQBTQ+ legislation, here are a few organizations actively making a difference.  

Get Involved - Human Rights Campaign (hrc.org)

WE SAY GAY – Together Rising

The Trevor Project | For Young LGBTQ Lives