Monday, May 30, 2011

mama mondays: a niece graduates

 
This weekend marked the first high-school graduation of my sister's and my families. The honor of "firsts" goes to my niece, who is paving the way to many such rites of passage moments in our extended family.

The graduate shows off her hoola-hooping skills. This will be a great boon to her resume!

We journeyed eight hours roundtrip...


to witness the event and take part in the celebratory finale.



It was worth it, from the food to the family to the flowers.

The lovely things I love...
It feels plain good to get the cousins together; to just let them reacquaint and build the kind of memories they will share at their own graduations, weddings and anniversaries in the years to come.

"Abracadabra, make my little brother disappear!"
Undercover cousins?
One of the scenes playing on a rolling Powerpoint in the garage, in view to all munching on my sister's delicious spread of food, included a scene from when we visited years ago and the two firstborns decided to tie the knot. "The Wedding" will go down as one of the highlights of the times we've spent with the cousins.

The "groom:" I dare you to find my eyes!
This weekend was special, and I hope there will be many such celebrations in our future when we can gather and give thanks for the life God has given us together.

Grandpa looking at a book of poems he created when the graduate was a baby
As you commemorate Memorial Day today, may you renew your gratitude for the good things and people in life, both past and present, those passed on and still living.

Q4U: What moment of your Memorial Day weekend stands out, and why?

Friday, May 27, 2011

faith fridays: when i die...



I've been thinking about this a lot lately-- my eventual death. This might have something to do with having lost quite a few friends in the last couple years. It might also have to do with some discussions that have been taking place on An Atheist and a Catholic, a blog I co-founded last month.

There's nothing quite like faith (or lack thereof) to stimulate the important topics like death. And I don't mean this in a morbid way. Well, maybe I do. Can death be anything but that? What I'm trying to say is...I don't want this to be a downer post. Sometimes the contemplation of death can revive life in a way nothing else can.

Recently on the above-mentioned blog, we wrote a post discussing Our Funerals from a believing and non-believing perspective. The focus there was on how we imagine our funerals. But right now, I'm not even there. I'm back at the dying part. And I want to think about this. It's important to not gloss over it.

When I die...I know that even if I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by friends and family, it will really be just me and God. Okay, me and God...and, I imagine, a cloud of witnesses that will include many other spiritual loved ones, known and unknown perhaps. This brings me great comfort.

But even before that...I imagine there will be a specific period of time...in which it will just be me and God. And you know what? That thought doesn't scare me, at all. That...is a wonderful thought. It might seem strange but I'm actually looking forward to that time when everything else begins to melt away -- especially things that don't really matter all that much -- and everything that does matter becomes clear. And when that time comes, the thought of my Lord being near, being the one to beckon me on to the next phase of my life, is a warm and wonderful thought.

This is one thing atheists don't have. Forget about the reality of it, whether God is real or made up. Let's say it's all just hogwash, a total delusion as atheists contend, this God thing. Okay. Fine. That is a possibility, after all. Not a very likely one, I'd say. I find it actually quite reasonable to believe that this world didn't just sort of happen randomly. But even if it all were to turn out false...there is still something beautiful about the hope of it all.

We seem made for this hope. Hope is something everyone needs to survive. It is absolutely essential that hope stays alive, even if in a very small amount. Without it, all grows dark.

I feel so grateful, so free, so humbled to be traveling through this world with faith and hope and the thought that when I die, a God who loved me into being will be on the other side, softening the blow of death, bringing me into a fuller understanding of what my life has meant, loving me into what He has in store for the next phase.

I truly believe that if we keep seeking a relationship with God while we have a chance on earth, this encounter with God that will occur as we pass from one side of the veil to the other will feel very familiar, very welcoming.

What else will it feel like? Like being bathed in love, I'm thinking. Truth be told, I'm looking forward to that...someday.

Q4U: Does thinking about death in this way make it feel less foreboding? What comforting thoughts do you have about death?

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

writing wednesdays: lisa and the pope



Look closely at this photo. See the Pope? Now look closer and find the smiling mother from California; a fellow blogger and writing friend who just happened to end up at the Vatican earlier this month solely because of her efforts to connect with other moms about motherhood and faith. Yes, it was through blogging that Lisa had a chance to travel to Rome and meet the Pope!

I'm telling you, the combination of mothering, blogging and faith is one powerful "cocktail."

Read more on Peace Garden Writer today!

Monday, May 23, 2011

mama monday minis: tracks meets, piano recitals and crazy poets

Relay girl watching for the baton

Mini #1: I hadn't been to a track meet since my own track days in college, so I wasn't prepared for the old feelings to resurface so promptly upon arrival at my daughter's first meet last week. The announcer calling the races, the starting gun popping, the cheering of the crowds; it was even better than I remembered. Of course, the fact that I didn't have to compete probably contributed to my euphoric feelings. But I have to say, even if from the sidelines it was a thrill, and I'm hoping there will be many more track meets in my future. 

Jean and Viking (which is which?)
Mini #2: A couple days later, my author friend Jean Patrick arrived from South Dakota, just in time for us to catch lunch at Nichole's Fine Pastry in Fargo in celebration of her having completed her 50th year of life. From there, we set off for Thief River Falls, Minnesota, to take part in a Young Author Conference. Little did we know the Vikings Sword Museum awaited us in a small midway town. Here, Jean puts on her best sword-bearing-Viking face, proving she's ready for anything, even her brand-new A.A.R.P. card (Jean, you can get me back in a few years!).

Mary Aalgaard, Jean Patrick, Roxi Marley
Mini #3: The conference, which involved students in grades 4-8 who are interested in writing, was a wonderful success. There were about 18 presenters from the region, including our trio here (my pal Mary from Play off the Page, Jean and Moi). I'd changed into my Bob Marley shirt and jeans by the time this photo was snapped by the owner of Gemini Java, a little coffee shop on a corner street in TRF. We sat for an hour on a wooden park bench there sipping iced coffees and chatting before heading back to our respective Minnesota, North Dakota and South Dakota bases.

Mini #4: This weekend, our daughters performed in their spring piano recital. Here they are with their teacher, Gretchen. I always know summer is near when the piano recital is over. It's been hard fitting in lessons this year, working around dance, track and basketball, but it's always lovely hearing the results.


Mini #5: And I can't go without introducing you to poet extraordinaire Brod Bagert of New Orleans, the keynote speaker at the above-mentioned conference. I turned on the video camera during his presentation on "how to write your worst" and caught this very cool moment when he was speaking with an American Sign Language interpreter next to him. Notice how their movements create a sort of visual poem about midway through, totally spontaneously:

video

Friday, May 20, 2011

faith fridays: is religion a dirty word?



I'm feeling a little sorry for religion these days; it seems to be getting a bad rap. And to be honest, I'm beginning to feel a little annoyed and a bit defensive for it. I just can't help but wonder whether it's really deserving of the rotten tomatoes it's been pummeled with lately.

Recently, some wonderful speakers came to our school to talk about things like sexual integrity, interior strength, goal-setting and dreaming big. I found their overall message outstanding, but at one point they were explicit about the need to replace religion with relationship. It was as if they were saying that religion is a dirty word that should be banned.

For just a brief time during that session, little red flags started waving inside my head. It doesn't seem right to me to separate the two, or pit one against the other. Why make relationship the shining jewel and religion the tarnished crown? To me, they're inextricably linked. Separating them would be like removing the peanut butter from the jelly.

I remember coming upon this during my college years, when some of my Christian friends seemed repelled by the word religion. "I'm a believer. I'm not religious," I'd hear. Even then I was left scratching my head. What's with the animosity toward, or at least discounting of, religion?

I do understand that some people connect religion with unnecessary ritual, things that get in the way between us and God. They may have had a bad experience with their church growing up and now feel the need to dub religion as bad and order it to take a spot in the corner.

And I don't disagree that when it comes to our belief in God, the relationship is the thing to strive toward and enter into. It is so much about that! But I'm concerned about losing the baby while dumping the bath water.

One thing I've learned in the last month of co-moderating An Atheist and a Catholic blog is that so often our divergences come down to definitions. Most of our discussions in the comments section over at A/C revolve around our distinctly different understandings of a certain concept or word. We might actually agree on something, but if we're not framing it properly, everything goes haywire.

If we're going to make such bold statements as "Death to religion," then at least let's get explicit about what we mean by religion.

Here's my attempt. Religion isn't the issue. Religion itself isn't bad. Religion is, in large part, the means by which we express our faith. It is the toolbox that allows us to enter into a deeper level of faith. Religion can enhance the relationship between us and God. Without it, we can lose our way. It is the way in which we frame our faith, but in and of itself, it is not the culprit.

So what is the culprit? It seems to me it's any number of things: a bad experience within a church, oftentimes at the hand of a particular person within that church, or a negative experience with its people as a whole. Perhaps a certain tenet has been misconstrued or misunderstood, leading to a devastating outcome. That might in turn lead the person who's been hurt to misidentify the source of their pain, blaming religion in general and not the person or people whom messed up. Something personal, therefore, becomes very generalized. Little by little others join in and religion is the class clown needing to be stifled.

But religion...is not a person. It is not animate. It cannot be held accountable for all that has gone wrong within the world of the believer (and the non-believer). Religion is just the means through which we draw closer to God. It does not, on its own accord, create a block toward us and God. People do that.

I know that not everyone will agree with me, but if so, it's likely because our definitions are not in sync. I do not and will not downplay anyone's rightful hurt. I just want to make sure the blame goes where it ought; to the imperfect humans who messed up (and let's face it, we all mess up at one time or another, some of us many more times than others and more deeply).

My religion has helped make my life exponentially more fulfilling than it would have been otherwise. So even if the rest of the world feels inclined to throw tomatoes at religion, I'm going to respectfully pass, and instead, keep trying to pin down the true source of unrest.


Q4U: So what do you think? Is the current trend to view religion as a dirty word justified?

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

writing wednesdays: journaling with benefits


Journaling with benefits.

That's the answer. What's the question?

Find out today on Peace Garden Writer!

Peace,

PGM

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Parenting Perspectives: Grad Party Stress

[Please enjoy my latest parenting column, which was printed today in The Forum, North Dakota's largest daily newspaper, as it is one Tuesday a month. Reprinted with permission.]
  
Parenting Perspectives: Grad Party Stress

By Roxane B. Salonen, The Forum


It’s that time of year when garages are transformed from vehicle ports to graduation-party venues, when home renovations are frantically finished to make way for an entourage of guests.

I can already see the forced smiles of some of the young, honored hosts who will stand at doorways greeting visitors, looking as though they’ve just arrived at boot camp. “Anywhere but here,” their looks will scream.

For the record, I enjoy these chances to mingle with friends, sample delicious food and witness another birdie readying for flight. But I also must confess that as a parent who will be in grad-party-planning-mode soon, attending such events has, at times, been a source of rising consternation.

Even with three years to go, I’ve already begun taking notes, much like the future bride surveying the details at her friends’ weddings.

It’s a bit overwhelming, to say the least. Back on the Fort Peck Reservation in Montana where I grew up, in the late 1980s, graduation celebrations were unheard of. I remember sending a few invitations to faraway friends and being thrilled to receive a few gifts in the mail as a result, cherished items I could take with me to college. It was minimal, but I didn’t know any differently.

Enter the modern-day graduation gala with its fancy touches – candies wrapped in foil with outer wrappings that include photos of the graduate; picture-perfect PowerPoint presentations displaying the entire lifespan of the honoree on the wall; and tantalizing, themed buffets.

I’ve experienced everything from a simple taco bar to a grander, catered spread, from professionally created, layered cakes to do-it-yourself root-beer float lines, and all the dazzling extras in between – streamers, mints and ambient music.

I’ve been touched seeing mothers helping each other to ensure these events go off smoothly. But even while admiring it all, this gnawing feeling of needing to keep up has crept in.

That is, until the day a fellow mom of many and I shared our common concerns of grad parties to come. Feeling mutually empowered by our conversation, we came up with some possible grad-party trends of our own:
  • Team up with other families of grads to rent a place to have a joint party. This will allow the sharing of resources and reduce the frenzied party-hopping by students wanting to give equal time to all classmates.
  • Consider personality types and offer more introverted children an alternative, such as a reasonably priced trip to mark the event in a different but memorable way.
  • Invest in something valuable for the future that might not be possible with party and house-renovation expenses in the mix.
  • Go on a mission trip to help prepare for the real world in a more enduring and meaningful way.
Certainly, we should celebrate hard-earned achievements with great enthusiasm. But as the mother of five future grads, I’m finding the need to pull away from the self-induced pressure of coming up with the next cool idea.

I’d like to avoid becoming the symbolic bride who planned well for the wedding at the expense of the marriage itself.

However you celebrate your child’s passage from one phase to another, may it be joy-filled and memorable. These are the times that allow us to reflect on all we’ve accomplished together. Happy graduation.

Roxane B. Salonen works as a freelance writer and children’s author in Fargo, where she and her husband, Troy, parent five children. She blogs on family life at http://peacegardenmama.areavoices.com.

Monday, May 16, 2011

mama mondays: friends like roses

One of my favorite smells, one of my favorites sights in the world, the rose.


A week ago, I bought a bouquet of multi-colored roses for my daughter for her spring dance recital. They started as a bunch of flowers wrapped in plastic, and soon found their way to my bedroom dresser, where I had the privilege of watching them slowly open up and grace my week with beauty.

The worst part about them, of course, is their fleeting nature, and I was none too pleased to come home one day to find that the cats had gotten curious and tipped them over. All the water and flower "food" that we'd dissolved in it was gone, papers nearby absorbing the spilled liquid had to be tossed, the dresser was quickly wiped down. Thankfully, once tipped back over and given fresh water, they thrived in subsequent days.

As they aged each passing day, I couldn't help but dread their diminished color and beauty, and yet what I soon realized is that their fragrance intensified as they aged. Just like the people in your life. It seemed like an apt metaphor. The roses were trying to tell me something important, and I was listening.

On Friday, I found myself in the most fortunate position of being in the company of friends throughout the day. It started in the morning when two dear college friends invited me over for "coffee," which turned out to be Pakistani tea with honey. While we sipped our hot drinks on what was a chilly, gray day, we watched the youngest child of one friend play with the dog and parakeets and "help" his mother with a spray bottle. We talked about the ups and downs of our lives and reveled in a longtime friendship; one that, for the two of them, began in childhood. I'm the lucky add-on, the one who came along late but who has been warmly welcomed into this small circle of friendship. Our friendship took off, really, in 1990 in Paris, France, where we bought and wore different colored berets (red, green, blue), ate banana and chocolate crepes and cruised to the top of the Eiffel Tower together, and down again.

Though some find trios challenging, we've struck a happy and beautiful balance, and are now making plans for a summertime getaway.


In the evening, another friend invited me to her "celebration of achievement" dinner. She's surpassed the important milestone of final exams for her master's degree and felt the need to breathe after a week of staying up until 3 a.m. to study. So she pulled together six friends for the occasion, each from a different sphere of her life. Some of us had met briefly before, but Bethlehem ("Betty" as she is known) is the glue that bound us together. A native of Ethiopia, Betty has a special knack for gracefully bridging one world to the next, and one friend to another.


Three of us sitting near one another discovered we are all former journalism students with husbands who enjoy playing the guitar. All seven of us have motherhood in common. Our professions all vary, yet coincide in interesting ways.

I was reminded how relational women are. We thrive on these kinds of connections, through which we can seek out the whole as we gather up our joys and sorrows into one place and revel in our many blessings.

At the age 42, I sometimes feel my friends should already be in place and that there are no new friends to make, but I keep being proven wrong. God has given me friends who are polished pebbles, always there no matter how much time or distance comes between, and I also seem to find new friends in my fold each year; people who help me stretch, add new colors and layers to my world I hadn't known were missing, and help me more fully realize why I'm here.


Next week, I'll be out of town for a few days and, while away, will have a chance to gather around yet another group of friends; more flowers to appreciate and count among a growing and blessed bouquet.

Someday, if I am given a long life, I may be shut in one room in my home and unable to move around well. I hope that if and when that time comes, I will think back on these days of many flowers and smile.


Friday, May 13, 2011

faith fridays: what the pope thinks about prayer


The more I read about Pope Benedict -- or, more precisely, the more I read the words of Pope Benedict -- the more endeared to him I become. Indeed, for many of the faithful, he has an ability to verbally express our inmost thoughts in a most riveting way.

Far from offering a crusty version of a days-gone-by world, our current Pope is attuned to his audience, reaching out to all ages and getting at the heart of the matter.

Like prayer. During his Wednesday address, he spoke of prayer as an expression of man's profound need for meaning and understanding and encouraged the faithful to spend more time before God.

Humans, he said, have an innate need to "find a light to give an answer to the questions that have to do with the profound meaning of reality;" an answer that cannot be found in ourselves, progress or empirical science.


He said we are religious by nature and that this religious nature is not confined to one age, but to all, from those who lived in the caveman days to those of us here and now in the technological age. It is in religious experience, he said, that we seek the ways to overcome our finitude and to ensure our "precarious earthly adventure."

One of the main ways we quench our thirst for the infinite, according to the Pope, is through prayer. He called our attraction toward God "the soul of prayer," (...the soul of prayer...I had to read that twice...) and said that prayer is a mindset and not a series of practices and formulas [emphasis mine]. It's "a way of being before God, rather than carrying out acts of worship or pronouncing words."

He also noted that prayer has its center in the most profound being of the person, which is why it can be subject to misunderstanding.

Oh, how I know! Over at my new blog, An Atheist and a Catholic, which I co-founded with an atheist friend, I've been struggling mightily with conveying things like prayer and worship to our atheist readers. How does one transmit the reality of such a thing to correct what it must seem like from the outside? Since non-believers don't believe in God, I imagine that to many of them, the thought of worshiping an invisible God who isn't really there (or so they believe) would be just as off-putting as it would be for us believers to imagine worshiping a chair or a door. Hearing their contentions has challenged me to try to better articulate the beauty and necessity of prayer from the perspective of a Christian who is in a relationship with the living God.


Bless his heart, the Pope has helped me articulate my own thoughts through this week's address, especially when he said the experience of prayer "is a challenge for everyone, a 'grace' to be invoked, a gift of the One whom we address." A gift of the One whom we address. Honestly, I'd never thought of it quite like that before. Profound, beautiful and true; everything good is a gift from God.

On said blog, the word worship and an attempt to define it kept repeating this past week. It became clear that the picture the atheist often has in his or her mind at the sound and/or sight of the word is much different than the reality of it for the Christian.  But again, the Pope comes through with a clarification when speaking about the posture of kneeling in prayer: "It is a gesture that bears in itself a radical ambivalence: in fact, I can be obliged to kneel -- condition of indigence and slavery -- or I can kneel spontaneously, confessing my limit and, hence, my need for the Other."

Okay, now, we're getting closer to the stumbling point as I see it.  The indigence and slavery part  is how it seems non-believers interpret prayer to be, so they find it rather repulsive. And I would too if that were the reality of the prayer experience. I mean, who would stand for it, really? Instead, as one of our Catholic readers pointed out, prayer is something we do willingly, out of love and desire, and that seems to me more akin to the latter definition; i.e., "confessing my limit and, hence, my need for the Other." (We Catholics seem to be focusing on the relational aspects of prayer on the A/C blog, which is really what it is all about to me.)


Finally, and beautifully I'd say, the Pope concluded that prayer is "the opening and raising of the heart to God," and, as such, becomes a personal relationship with God. (Bingo!)  "And even if man forgets his Creator," he added, "the living and true God does not fail to call man to the mysterious encounter of prayer."

Oh, that just puts icing on the cake. Even when we forget about God, God does not forget about us. Or, in Peace Garden Mama speak, even when we, like rebellious teens, turn our backs on the unconditional love of our parent, our parent will still be there when our teen tantrum has subsided. (I often think of the relationship between us and God much like that of child and parent; i.e., we don't always know what's right for us, but God does.)

I really want to remember this reflection on prayer by the Pope. I need to not forget that even though prayer might feel meaningless some days, our words are not floating into the void but, rather, being received by Love himself. And there will be, without a doubt, a response back if we but take the time to listen and see with the eyes of faith.


Q4U: What of the Pope's words jumped out at you as helpful in understanding or explaining prayer?

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

writing wednesdays: how blogs are like kids

How are blogs like kids? Find out on Peace Garden Writer today in my second in a short series on "Why Blogging isn't a Waste of Time."

Be there or be square! :)

PGM

Monday, May 9, 2011

mama mondays: my mother's day 2011 in pictures



Mother's Day 2011









Sunday, May 8, 2011

sunday special: tribute to moms on mother's day 2011

Mom and Me, Pacific Ocean, Summer 1995

This past week on Facebook, a lot of people have been posting photos of their mothers on their profile. At first I didn't catch on and thought my friends were looking a little outdated (many of the photos were olden-day versions), but then I realized it was one of those meme-type things that spreads through social networking, a way of focusing on something we all hold in common to keep us all connected.

So I decided to play along. I found a picture from Summer 1995 when I was pregnant with our firstborn, readying to take on my new role as a mother myself. My mother had come from Montana for a visit to our little home in Shelton, Washington, where I was working as a newspaper reporter, and my husband, as a newspaper advertising sales manager. Our friends Carolyn and Don were gracious enough to loan us their beach house when it was available, and this particular visit to Long Beach, WA, we brought along my mother. 

I have a vivid memory of this day. At some point during our visit to the beach, my mother and I started giggling about something -- I have no idea now what it was. All I remember is that we ended up in uncontrollable (truly) hysterics. I've never laughed so hard in my life, nor for so long! (This may explain why our firstborn has a knack for frequently tickling the rib bones of others.) Each time we thought we had calmed down and could move on, another spurt would come, and once again, we were toast. I don't know how we were ever able to stop, but man did that feel good! Laughter is so good for the soul, and I will always cherish that memory. 

I'm going to post about my Mother's Day from my perspective on Monday, but after posing a question on Facebook recently and collecting some wonderful responses, I've decided to do a Sunday Special to celebrate my own mother's life, and the memories others have shared with me in the past couple days.

Reacting to the question, "So, what's your favorite memory of your mother?" here are the responses:

"When she would lay in bed with me and sing songs at bedtime." - Carol

"Watching her and my mother-in-law each polish off a BOX of wine at our grooms dinner the night before the wedding.... yes. An entire box of wine each. Also favorite memory of mother-in-law-- and both ladies are a lot of fun!" - Scott

"Her acting like she knew what you were talking about, then giggling when you busted her for not knowing." - Tami

"For me, it was when kids at school asked if my Mom was mean at home, too. The answer? No. :) She was a very sweet mother, but as many of her former students know, she was a disciplinarian at school, but with love at bottom of it all. Most of her students knew that, I think. I just knew that I got the sweet version of Mom almost always, unless I deserved otherwise! :)" - Me

"When Mum got taken for a drive, she'd sit up front with Dad driving and finally relax and her nostrils would flare with joy." - Barbara

"Singing with Mom and my two sisters while doing dishes. We made sweet harmony!"- Pat

"My mother knew my penchant for sweets and every once in a while I'd be the only kid who'd get a secret candy bar left for me when she got home from working the over night shift at the hospital. :-). I did not share with my siblings, nor did I tell them. It was our secret, I think." - Lori (one of five children)

I loved it when my mom would hear me coughing, due to very bad asthma, and come sit on the side of my bed no matter what time it was. She would tell me to lay on my side, which helped with the coughing, put an extra pillow under my head to elevate me a bit and would sit there gently rubbing my back until I finally drifted off to sleep.......cough magically gone....Thanks Mom! - Alysa

"Ummm...Probably the fact that no matter what I did....she always loved me back. She loved me alot." - Shane 

Is there any doubt that our mothers, no matter what our history with them, rise to the top in the end? I can only hope that someday, my children will have similarly fond memories of my time with them. Even if our mothers are no longer with us, we still have those memories, and, as I've found, they become all the richer over time.

A fun sidenote: Tracy Briggs of The Forum mentioned Peace Garden Mama on the Area Voices Community blog the other day. I was especially pleased that Erma Bombeck and I shared space in the same post!

Q4U: And now your turn: What's your favorite memory of your mother?

Friday, May 6, 2011

faith fridays: a christian response to a terrorist's death



By now, we've all had some time to process the death of Osama bin Laden. Nearly every social group in which I'm involved has addressed in one way or another this monumental event in our world's history. Many thoughts are still half-formed, simmering and processing as news continues to pour in hourly.

"Where were you when you heard the news?" was one of the questions buzzing on Twitter just moments after the announcement was made on TV. One fellow North Dakota mother responded: "Snuggling my 10-month-old." I was finishing up some Sunday-night paperwork when my husband called me into his man cave (music/exercise/TV room), where we watched together the quickly unfolding details, trying to make sense of them coming so closely on the heels of Blessed John Paul II's beatification. Many of us will remember where we were on that tragic day of September 11, 2001, and this as well.

But perhaps as much as anything else, and apart from the actual news itself, I will remember my confusion. Certainly, there was confusion on 9-11-01 as well, not to mention great fear. This time, my disorientation surrounded the fact that we have been anticipating this day for nearly a decade, and yet, now that it's come, it's obvious we're not fully equipped to respond appropriately.

Times like this, it seems to me, is when we catch a glimpse of how the faithful process the world and its events differently than our non-believing counterparts, though our responses still vary individually. The worldly have, in large part, a certain collective reaction. But the Christian is called to go a step further and not just process such a thing fully on emotion, but through the lens of faith. Hopefully, if we are living our faith in an authentic way, our gut response will not be the one that persists. There is always more to consider the moment faith enters in.

For example, the dancing in the streets; while I could understand that initial reaction to some degree, I and many others with whom I talked shortly afterward found it distressing. We remember all too well when things were reversed, and others from other worlds were dancing and celebrating at our expense. How can we, then, do the same? And how can we feel truly vindicated by another death?

I was relieved to read an article from the Catholic News Service the same day I learned of Osama's death: "Vatican says bin Laden's death cause for reflection, not rejoicing."  How grateful I was to learn other Christians might be feeling similarly to me; that even though initially there may have been a sense of victory, it did not persist.

Just before Easter I talked about the dichotomies involved in the faith life -- suffering leading to death, and death leading to life. What we see at first is not always what we're meant to take away. The death of a terrorist, while bringing some initial relief, doesn't completely wipe away the wrong that was committed. It's not that simple. Instead, we're left with temporary relief, only to realize in the next breath that the death brings with it new implications, new things to worry over, and not an enduring sense of peace and justice.

Aside from Twitter and email, I took part in a discussion on Facebook the day following the announcement. One of my favorite quotes to emerge there was one from Martin Luther King, Jr., who so succinctly describes my feelings:

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."

[Post-composition update: As reader Adam points out below, this quote was made up and attributed to MLK by its creator. Who knew? It still resonates so I'll leave it in, but with that caveat of deceit surrounding it...*sigh*...]

And really, that's what we're left with, I think. We are not freed from any of the questions we had prior to Osama bin Laden's death. I'm not saying that ridding the world of one demented man does not lead to a safer world, but neither is there an assurance that it will. Either way, I have to side with MLK here and be left not with a feeling of exaltation, but rumination. And always, always, the need to bend down in prayer and ask that God be with us, now and forever.

Q4U: Where were you when you learned the news of Osama bin Laden's death?

Monday, May 2, 2011

mama mondays: stage fright and spaghetti



What does this photo have to do with stage fright or spaghetti? Why, nothing. Nothing at all. But the kids captured our cat Spice (another "s" word) comfy in the still-not-put-away Easter basket and thought it worthy of a picture and some blog time.



Aha! Here's the spaghetti. It was the main dish for my friend Vicky's benefit dinner, which happened Sunday afternoon. I enjoyed my time at the benefit supporting Vicky, but she looks so amazing right now, so bright and spirited, that I had to remind myself why I was there. I know Vicky would not turn down a single prayer, so please join me in sending one up for her today in the hopes God will pour out His graces as she fights stage 4 cancer. You can follow Vicky's journey at The Westra World. 

video
And finally, stage fright. Let's just say you'll be able to identify my son. He's the one who isn't happy and he knows it and his face doth surely show it. You win some, you lose some, right? (I do apologize for the shaky camera work; I was a bit caught by his stilted performance and trying to decide whether I should even keep the camera rolling or not.)

Have a cheerful week!


Q4U: Have you ever gotten stage fright? How did you overcome it?