What makes a story believable?

Twenty-nine years ago I was taking classes at the local Community College. I typically tried to take as many classes in one day as possible, so my schedule could go from 8am to 9pm, depending on the day. This particular day I had a long break between classes, so I took advantage of the break, as I typically did, and drove to a spot near the ocean to study. I pulled into an open spot, turned off the car, pulled out my books and started to read. I don't remember how long I had been there before I looked up and around. A car had parked to the right of me. There were people strolling along the beach. The sun was shining but it wasn't too warm. I checked my surroundings, felt secure and went back to studying. Not long after I felt the weight of someone's stare. I looked up and to my right and made eye contact with the guy in the car next to me. He had a leering smile on his face that immediately made me uncomfortable. I quickly looked away but continued to feel his stare. Glancing over again, I confirmed he was still staring at me in the creepy leering way and his hands were very, very busy in his lap. I decided it was time to get the hell out of there.

I never told anyone what had happened. I felt too vulnerable, like I had put myself in the situation and I was to blame. I hadn't been physically assaulted and I never actually saw any body parts, so, I told myself, maybe I was just jumping to conclusions. Twenty-nine years later, I can still see the creepy, leering look on the man's face and remember being afraid that he would follow me as I drove away. I never parked at that particular beach again for study breaks. 

I know women who have been physically and sexually abused. They don't openly share their stories easily. The guilt, the shame lingers. For some they hope that by not talking about it will mean that they can forget. But "it" continues to loom. The abuse has shaped them, is a lens through which they view many aspects of life and is never forgotten.

A few years back, I was scrolling through FB and ran across a post from an extended family member that had me seeing red pretty much all day. It was a picture of a little boy, probably not more than 2 or 3, being held by a woman with large breasts and, as little boys do, he was touching her breast. The caption read something to the effect that he would never make it to the Supreme Court because of the picture, alluding to accusations against the then nominee for the Supreme Court, Mr. Kavanaugh of attempted rape. Along with sharing the photo this extended family member made a comment to the effect of, "I know I'm going to be hear about this but how dumb is this investigation." I clicked on the comments. There were only a few, but they all said pretty much the same thing - "haha, great photo, isn't this whole investigation so ridiculous?"

At lunch that day, I scrolled back through FB and there were more comments on the post. One person, a woman, commented that sexual harassment wasn't a joke, wasn't okay and shouldn't be taken lightly. The extended family member replied with "yeah, but it's those 'liberals' who are making this all a big political mess and how can anyone remember what happened 36 years ago anyway?" I saw flaming red. 

I thought about commenting on the post. I thought about asking this extended family member how they would feel if that woman was one of their relatives. I thought about asking, if the Supreme Court nominee was more liberal leaning if they would believe the woman coming forward. I thought about asking them what their earliest memories were or if they had ever been assaulted or been in a traumatic situation. I thought about leaving a snarky comment, "great Christian witness you are", or "casting stones are we?", but knew that was just stooping to their level. The discourse on the post was already flaming and the "stupid liberals" phrase was being banded about so much I knew whatever I had to say was going to fall on deaf ears. Ultimately, the decision I needed to make was simple. With one click we were no longer FB friends. I haven't talked to them since and, honestly, that's okay.

Twenty-nine years later, I couldn't tell you the book I was reading or the make, model and color of the car next to me. I couldn't even give you a really good description of the leering man in the car next to me. What I do remember is the feeling of being violated, in a sense. Even recounting the experience my stomach turns and I feel slightly ashamed, and all I was doing was studying in my car by the beach. Just because I didn't tell anyone, doesn't make it any less real. Just because I didn't report it, doesn't mean it didn't happen.

I wonder if that extended family member would believe my story? Does actually knowing a person make their story more credible, more believable? Or would my "liberal" viewpoints overshadow my story, my experience? I'll probably never know.

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. 

IT'SNOTOKAY

My friend Nancy and I have dinner or coffee together once every six weeks or so.  I cherish these meet-ups for so many reasons but mainly because I leave our time together once again reassured that I am not the "only one thinks that way".  Our views on theology and politics line up very nicely.  We don't agree on everything.  But we listen to each other, challenge each other to view the world through a wider lens and urge each other on to do good in the world.  Nancy once mentioned that she was encouraged I had done some in depth research and soul searching on a Biblical topic, to which I responded, "well, see, you are my friend and your views on that subject made me curious.  So I did my own research, explored the subject deeper and came to a similar conclusion...it's really your fault."

A few weeks ago we had dinner together.  Dinner started out with Nancy sharing about a book she was reading (I won't read it for awhile, but she highly recommends "When Breath Becomes Air".  Once you read the description, if you know my family history the last two years, you won't be surprised if I skip that book for awhile) and then moved onto politics.  Politics moved into hash tags - which cracked me up - and hence, here I am writing a blog post.

Nancy and I are both worried, concerned, sick, can't believe we have gotten to this place, I think you get the picture, about our country.  We talked a lot about the potential for violence and the insanity that seems to take over whenever politics are involved.  Nancy was speechless when I told her that I know people who will be voting for Trump.  I can't believe it either, but there it is.  We pondered how the "evangelical church" would stand behind Trump, when so many of the things Trump says flies in the face of what Jesus stands for.  (I put evangelical church in quotes because I strongly dislike that one group of followers of Jesus have taken over a word that literally means "sharing the good news" and made it into something that feels shameful and dirty to me.)

We talked about my experience in Oklahoma a few years ago, an open carry state, where many people came into church with their guns on their hips, and marveled how foreign that seemed to us.  While I respect others rights to feel differently, I don't like guns and don't believe guns are solving any problems in our society.  We talked about statistics showing that open carry states have a higher crime rate than those states that don't have open carry laws.  I'm still looking into those statistics.

We both know we are privileged, white women, who haven't really experienced discrimination.  We know we can't fully understand discrimination and know we have, in ways we didn't mean or fully comprehend, have been guilty of discriminating against others.  It bothers us deeply.  We don't know what to do about it, other than continuing to educate ourselves and speak up when we recognize discrimination around us.

Since that conversation, I've become even more alarmed at things that have been said and done in politics, as well as things said and done during the Olympics.  It alarms me that a young, black woman was so harshly criticized and taken to task for not putting her hand over her heart during the National Anthem during the Olympics.  Nights later I turned on the TV to see two white males standing on the Olympic podium while the National Anthem was played and neither one of them had a hand over their hearts.  I saw NOTHING about that on the Internet, heard NOTHING on the news making a big deal about their negligence to follow a flag protocol.  Nor did I hear anything about them taking a stand in solidarity with the young, black woman a few nights earlier.  I actually had to google flag protocol to see if there was actually something to the complaints.  I never knew.  I can't tell you the number of times I have stood for the National Anthem and not placed my hand over my heart.  I simply didn't know that was protocol...and now that I do and such a stir has been caused about it, the rebel in me may just "forget" again. 

That night at dinner, Nancy decided our hash tag, should we ever use one, for all the subjects we talked about and more would simply say IT'SNOTOKAY.  (Especially when it comes to the things that come flying out of Mr. Trumps mouth - IT'SNOTOKAY.)  And though I don't use hash tags, now when I watch the news or read articles the phrase that continually runs through my mind is...IT'SNOTOKAY.  It's just not okay. 

A post about crap I'm tired of

A blogger I used to read had as a label for some of her posts "crap I'm tired of".  I have gotten used to thinking that way about many things in the years since I first started reading her blog (she since changed blogs and that label isn't used anymore.)  I'm blatantly stealing it for this post and it may become a regular in this blog.

Crap I'm tired of:

• Politics.  I'm tired of the same political conversations being held over and over again.  I'm tired of the debates, I'm tired of the rhetoric, I'm tired of looking and someone and wondering just how much they have been groomed for the position.
• On that same politics bent, I am also tired of the problems with the country resting solely on the shoulders of one person.  Last time I looked there was a whole slew of Senators and Representatives that had a lot of responsibility for the situation we are in at the moment as well.
• I'm tired of the label of "poor" being slung around to only mean those who choose to live on the streets and not work.  I know plenty of working poor.  Honestly, if I had children, I would be one of the working poor.
• I'm tired of racism, sexism, ageism and the rest of the "isms".  I know I fall into those categories at times...I'm tired of it in myself.
• I'm tired of gas prices rising and rising and rising.  Between Monday and today prices went up 30 cents at one station.  I will ride the bus and the light rail as much as possible...and please don't try to tell me that's the President's fault.  Take a look at how much profit, not gross, but PROFIT the oil companies make and the insistence this country has on not building more mass transit (still wishing for a light rail system on this side of the hill).
• I'm tired of feeling like I'm never going to __________________.  Too many things to fill in the blank there.

And right now, I'm just tired.

A post about today's political brew-ha-ha

Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, even when I think their opinion is wrong.  I attempt to live my life with this outlook.  I don't and won't agree with anyone else on exactly the same issues or ideas any or all of the time.  Sometimes it is my opinion that is the wrong one.  It's happened before, it will happen again.

Today, though, I VERY STRONGLY disagree with someone.  I so strongly disagree that I've been really, really tempted to break my own "no politics on Facebook" rule.  I am okay with everyone having their own opinions, I don't always want to talk about those opinions and so I refrain from discussing politics, etc., on Facebook.  I am going to blog about it.

Can someone please tell me when rape is not legitimate?  How, exactly, would a woman's body "know" that a pregnancy is unwanted and "do something" to stop that pregnancy?  The logic here, says the 5 percent of women who are raped who get pregnant were not legitimately raped.  I would dare Representative Akin to make that statement to a woman who has had her life torn apart because of rape, not to mention rape with a subsequent pregnancy. 

I am so tired of politicians saying idiotic things and then, when confronted on their dumb-a$$ comments, retracting with a "I misspoke".  The damage has been done, the fallacy of your "truth" is out there and people believe you because you are a politician who couldn't possibly lie or be wrong.  Ever.  Especially a "good Bible based Christian".


I am a Christ Follower.  I believe in God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit.  I also believe that women have just as much value as men.  I believe that women and men are both raped and that every rape is legitimate (whatever that means).  I believe that politicians lie all.the.time. and that this country needs to move beyond the abortion debate especially when it comes to elections and start focusing on the children, men and women who are struggling every single day to deal with the blows that life brings them.  I believe it's time that politicians who keep focusing on the abortion debate need to step up and take care of those children AFTER they are born by providing opportunities for health care, good education, affordable housing and so on and so forth.  I am DONE with the abortion debate and hope this country wises up soon.

Rant over. 

A post about weddings

This weekend I get to officiate a wedding.  This is the third wedding I have been privileged to be a part of...wedding number 4 is in October.

One of the main reasons I have ever considered getting ordained has been to be able to officiate at weddings and memorial services.  Celebrating life events with people I love and care of is important to me, always has been.  The first wedding I officiated, we went through the County Clerk's office and I was deputized for the day.  Then my Cousin V asked if I would officiate at her wedding and I decided to join the millions of people already ordained by the Universal Life Church.

At Cousin V's wedding Cousin A asked "would you officiate at my wedding".  I said yes, thinking that day was a long way off.  In April he and Cousin to-be C made it official...their wedding is Saturday.

I am so privileged to be a part of these days, to share my single-girls view of marriage and the commitment being made with people I love, to stand as they share in vows to honor and cherish and love one another for life.  It is such an amazing moment...but at the same time I am so aware that it is not a moment that can be fully shared by everyone.

As I stand on Saturday and shower words of blessing on my Cousin and Cousin to-be, there will be a moment when a sentence pops up, something like "our life partners", because I don't believe that marriage is just between a man and a woman.  I believe that ALL people should have the right to marry the person love heart and soul, forever.  I DON'T believe it makes a mockery of marriage for same-sex partners to marry, I think hetrosexual couples make a mockery of that all by themselves.  If my friends, M & L, were to get married again and asked me to be the officiant, I would jump in with both feet, privileged to share in their commitment to each other...just as I was privileged to stand up at their wedding and be a reader and the ring bearer.  :)

I'm looking forward to Saturday...just like I'm looking forward to October and the next wedding...life is good.