A post about howling

 I sat outside on the little oasis that is our deck, tonight, enjoying the cool air and taking a moment to search for stillness. The little solar fountain next to me, that is used as a drinking fountain and bath for the birds steadily flowed. Birds fluttered around, finding a place in the trees to roost for the night. Solar tealights started to flicker on as my part of the earth rotated away from the sun. The sounds of children laughing and playing somewhere in the neighborhood floated through the air. The joy and innocence of that laughter slowly filtered through my brain and it was suddenly just all too much.

A few years ago, in a town just a few miles from my own, a young girl was murdered by someone in her neighborhood. The community, rallying around the family and seeking a way to mourn this young girls life and show support for her family organized a community "howl". At 8pm on a specific evening, people went outside and howled. It was hauntingly beautiful.

Soon after the COVID pandemic closed down the country, a community howl was organized again. This time as a way to show support for those on the frontlines of the pandemic, the doctors and the nurses. Nightly, at 8pm, people would go outside, and howl. This happened for months. Children of all ages joined together in the howl, the echoes reverberating throughout our Valley. In a way, this nightly howl connected us to each other while a horrendous disease tore us apart.

As I sat outside tonight, listening to the melodious, innocent laughter of the children in the neighborhood, as darkness started to envelope my corner of the world, and birds settled into the trees, the sorrow that had taken ahold of my soul started to rise within me and all I wanted to do was howl. I wanted to howl for the children and teachers who senselessly died in Texas yesterday, at the hands of gunman. I wanted to howl for the parents, grandparents, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, daughter, son, husband, friends, schoolmates, teachers, custodians, teacher aides, bus drivers, admins, security guards, and a whole community that has been irrevocably changed because elected officials care more for the gun lobbyists than they do for the children in their own communities. 

We've been down this road so many, many times as a country. It's become clear to me that to some elected officials and some in this country, life is important before someone is born, but once a child is born money, power and the distorted belief that the 2nd amendment, written in a time when it took approximately 30 seconds to load and fire a single shot from a gun, as opposed to today's guns meant to kill a lot of people in a very, very short amount of time, are more important than that child. Human life is disposable. Guns are a right.

After every mass shooting, we hear "now is not the time" to discuss gun reform. After every mass shooting, we hear "it's our right". After every mass shooting, we hear "this only happens in the United States". After every mass shooting, we hear how mental illness is the problem, not the guns. After every mass shooting, we hear "it's not guns that kill people, people kill people." After every mass shooting, we ask ourselves "why does this keep happening?" 

Why? Because we allow it to happen. Because we don't want to admit that America is being held hostage by the idealization of the 2nd Amendment. Because we won't vote out politicians who have a love affair with the gun lobby because they are also the ones who say they are "pro-life", and making sure that women don't have the ability to make decisions about their own pregnancies takes precedence. Once a child can live outside a woman's womb, though, all bets are off. It doesn't matter that much what happens to a life at that point. 

We will go down this road again and again and again, until one day the mass shooting is outside our own doors. It's only a matter of time until EVERY community in America has lives lost to mass shootings.

I didn't howl outside tonight, but I am howling. I'm howling for Layla, Makenna, Alithia, Naveah, Alexandria, Jayce, Miranda, Jailah, Rojelio, Tess, Ellie, Jackie, Eliahana, Annabell, Jose, Uziyah, Xavier, Amerie, Irma and Eva. I'm howling, I'm mourning, I'm frustrated. I'm speaking out. I'm listening. I'm lamenting. I'm done with "thoughts and prayers", I am mad. I am so, so, so, so sad. 

Here's how I see it

Weather isn't political. Storms don't see Republican, Democrat, Independent, Green Party, Libertarian or any other political party. Weather happens despite who is President. Storms rage no matter who is President. I don't trust the President, no matter who that is, to tell me what may happen with a major storm or weather event. But I especially don't trust the current President, who is consistently incorrect and lies as much as he breathes, to tell me what will happen with a storm.

NOAA and NWS have a responsibility to the whole of the United States to help share the latest information when weather events are pending to help people to make major, necessary decisions quickly that could result in their lives and belongings being saved. They do not need to be correcting false information given by the President, NOR should they fear for their jobs when said President can't admit he was wrong.

Weather isn't political and the President isn't my forecaster.

Searching for my voice

I sometimes have a hard time speaking up, not because I don't have opinions - I have plenty of those - but because I don't want to offend others.  I try to play nicely with others, don't rock the boat, be the peacemaker.  I'm just about done.

Last week, my Mom and I went to hear Jim Wallis of Sojourners speak at a church in the area.  There were so many people we wound up in one of several overflow rooms where they were live streaming his speech.  (I do know that he was, in fact, at the venue. We passed him as we left our building and he was going to the book table to sign books.) At the end, during the question and answer period, Jim made a statement - faith inspires hope which prompts action which brings about change.  I've been pondering that statement all week.

A Bible verse that has become my mantra over the years has been a variation of Micah 6:8 - "Do justice, love mercy, walk humbly with your God."  Justice and mercy, in my view, look very different than the current US Administration views justice and mercy. I am tired of hearing about how we need to "make America great again", which seems to mean to put the interests of rich, white men above the needs of the poor, the needy, immigrants, people of color, working class, middle class, women, children...the list could just keep going on and on and on.  I'm tired of hearing that all the news media is lying.  I'm tired of the threats and patronizing comments from the current administration.  I'm tired of hearing about "alternative facts" and I'm tired of the thin skinned man that sits in the White House.  We are haven't even made it a month and already, I'm tired.

I've been struggling to find hope for the United States since November.  I've been struggling to listen to the opinions of those who don't believe the same way I believe.  I stopped watching the news.  I stopped doing anything more than skimming the headlines. Because since November, I've felt hopeless - wanting to be a peaceful person amidst the anger but just feeling so.darn.angry. I've listened to those who have said we just need to accept things and move on but I don't want to accept things.  I don't want to just move on.  And yet, I don't know what to do...yet.  I simply know I'm tired.

Faith - hope - action - change.  Justice - mercy - humbleness - God.   I'm pondering these things and searching for my voice. 

When all you can do is pray

I have been feeling a little disconnected and numb from the latest cycle horror...until today and a post from a RevGal on Facebook.  Her simple prayer request:  "Please pray for my friend M who will be participating in 5 (so far) of the memorial services this week."  That's when the prayers started flowing.

Praying for the families.  For the teachers.  For the school and district administration   For the survivors.  For the first responders.  For the town.  For the country.  For the pastors.  For the children's directors/pastors.  For the youth directors/pastors.  For the counselors.  For the church administrative assistants.  For the funeral parlors.  For the organists, pianists and soloists.  Just simply praying because right now, that's all I can do.

A post about current events

"Once in a while, our culture needs to be surprised by how much we love people–all people. Once in a while, our culture needs to be overwhelmed with joy that we are involved in the greater story. Once in a while, our culture needs to see us being a part of the solution and not the problem."--Matthew Paul Turner


This week I have been struggling to even want to belong to "the church" anymore.  I'm tired, oh so tired, of the debates about who is in and who is out.  Who is wrong and who is right.  I'm tired of feeling ashamed of the label of "Christian".  I'm tired of the finger pointing.  I'm tired of turning on my computer/TV/radio and being slammed in the face with hatred.  I'm tired of all of this.


But I'm not tired of God.  I'm not ashamed of Jesus and those two facts alone have kept me from calling it quits this week.  I may be tired of all the hoops and words and condemnation and anger and justification but I still love God and still love Jesus.  I'm clinging to the hope that one day the church will remember that we are called to love all people and can be a part of the solution, not the problem.

A post about apologies

I've done an awful lot of apologizing in the last few weeks, ever since the blasted, dreaded Directory came fresh from the presses...even before that as it was at the printers and mistakes were caught.  I've said those words "I'm sorry" and meant it.  I've worried over the mistakes and beat myself up a little over the mistakes...I think it's part of being a people-pleaser.

Apologizing is tough.  It's really, really difficult.  I could justify the mistakes many times, it's been really hard, actually, to not be defensive and just take the mistakes on my shoulders.  "I'm sorry."  Two of the hardest words to utter without being defensive.  I mentioned to my star of a friend the other day that I believe God is teaching me a lesson through this job and I would really like to be done with the lesson, thank you very much.  I don't like making mistakes, yet I make them and apologies must be genuinely made.

There's an apology that has made headlines today.  I heard it while I was getting ready for work this morning.  Later, at work, I heard that the one's who were on the receiving end of the apology refused to accept it.  Honestly, I don't blame them.  For in one breath there was an apology and in another there was a statement basically saying the individual wouldn't go back and change one thing because his actions were all "part of God's plan".

I believe in God.  I believe in God's plan for my life.  I also believe in humility and true repentance and I don't believe the apology that made headlines held much of either.  I don't blame the one's on the receiving end for refusing to accept an apology that feel flat, very, very flat from someone who then blamed a God who seemed, well, racist, vengeful and a puppet-master.

I've been learning a lesson over the last few weeks, a lesson in humility, in learning to be imperfect and a lesson in the grace of human beings when an apology is real.  Today, I didn't hear an apology that sounded anything like that...and yes, I'm judging.