As I've Said Before, I Like This Woman

Sarah Palin: my life with a Down's syndrome child
In her memoir, US vice-presidential candidate tells of the problems and the joy of living with her special needs son

Sarah Palin

A couple of years ago I began to notice some peculiar yet familiar physical symptoms, like the smell of cigarettes making me feel more nauseated than usual. For a few weeks, I brushed these aside. Then I began to suspect something.

There was no way I could buy a home pregnancy test in Alaska. I was the state governor. The supermarket cashiers would know, the people in the queue would know, and the next thing I’d see would be a headline. There were still a few things that I thought were not for public consumption, at least not at first.

My chance came when I flew to New Orleans to speak at an oil and gas conference. I asked my security guy to drop me off at a pharmacy. Back at the hotel, before my speech, I followed the instructions on the pregnancy test box. Slowly a pink image materialised on the stick. Holy geez!

Todd and I had always dreamt of a big family, and he, especially, dreamt of having another boy — bookends for his three daughters.

I quickly prayed about this surreal situation. First, that I’d even be able to fathom it. I was happy but I could hear the critics:

“She’ll be distracted from state business.”

“She won’t be physically up to the job.”

“That’s what we get for electing the first woman governor.”

I sighed and stared at the ceiling. These are really less-than-ideal circumstances. And for a split second it hit me: I’m out of town. No one knows I’m pregnant. No one would ever have to know.

It was a fleeting thought, a sudden understanding of why many women feel pressured to make the “problem” go away. Sad, I thought, that our society has elevated things like education and career above the gift of bringing new life into the world. Yes, the timing of this pregnancy wasn’t ideal. But that wasn’t the baby’s fault. I knew, though, what goes through a woman’s mind when she finds herself in a difficult situation. At that moment, I was thankful for right-to-life groups that affirm the value of the child.

I didn’t want to tell Todd on the phone, and when I arrived home after the conference he was away. Between my job and his we kept missing each other, so it was a few weeks before we were in the same room and I told him about the baby. He was ecstatic. For him, it’s always been: the more, the merrier.

We kept our news to ourselves. We had always been private about our pregnancies. Our lives were an open book in virtually every other way, so for us this was just a special, sacred time, the one thing it seemed that just we two could know and enjoy together.

At 12 weeks, I saw my doctor, Cathy Baldwin-Johnson, or CBJ, as we called her. She looked at me kindly.

“Well, you’re 43, so there’s a higher chance of certain abnormalities.”

Then she showed me some statistics, one of which said I had about a one in 80 chance of having a child with Down’s syndrome.

I wasn’t worried. I was healthy as a horse, with four perfectly healthy children. Besides, my sister Heather already had a special-needs son, Karcher, who had autism. He was our family’s angel boy. In our family, we always said God knew what he was doing when he gave Heather the child with special needs. She was the one with the tender spirit who could not only handle but even thrive with a child with “challenges”.

CBJ said she’d like me to have an ultrasound scan, so I walked into the office across the hall. The technician was a sweet, funny older lady who’d been doing the procedure for decades. She prepped me, and we joked about a lot of things while she pressed the wand across my belly.

Then she got a little quieter. Suddenly I flashed back to a grim ultrasound I’d had years before, when a stoic doctor had said: “There’s nothing alive in there” — a miscarriage.

Then the technician smiled. “I see boy parts ... would that be good?”

“Yes, that would be perfect!” God is so good, I thought. He knows what’s best.

She kept passing the transducer across my abdomen, more slowly now. It seemed to be taking a long time. “Oops, sorry. Not sure on the boy parts after all. Your baby might be a girl.”

By then she was taking so long that I didn’t care whether it was a boy or a girl. A healthy fourth daughter would be great. Yep, just fine. Please tell me all is fine.

Then the technician said: “The baby’s neck is a little bit thicker than what we would normally see . . .”

My first thought was, 12 weeks along and you can already measure the baby’s neck? Amazing! Then, a bit more sombrely, I remembered that somewhere along the line I had heard that that was a sign of Down’s syndrome. A whisper of fear tugged at my heart, but I brushed it away with a thought: God would never give me anything I can’t handle. And I don’t think I could handle that.

God knew me: I was busy. Got to go-go-go. I’d always yapped about how lucky I was that my kids were all healthy over-achievers, self-sufficient. Now, I thought, I’ve got a tough job and other kids who need me. I just couldn’t imagine how I could add a baby with special needs and make it all work.

Unless He knows me better than I know myself, I thought a bit dismissively, God won’t give me a special-needs child.

CBJ called the next day. Combined with my age, she said, the ultrasound pictures meant there was now a one in 12 chance the baby had Down’s syndrome. “So?” I thought. That still means about a 90% chance everything’s fine.

“There’s a doctor in Anchorage I want you to go see, a geneticist,” she added. “I’m also offering you an amniocentesis” — the common prenatal test for genetic abnormalities.

I had always flippantly declined the amnios before, thinking they didn’t matter, since I confidently asserted I would never abort anyway. But this time I said yes. This time I wanted information. If there was something wrong, I wanted to be prepared.

Todd was out of town on the day of the appointment, so I visited the geneticist alone — through a back door, under my maiden name. I felt a bit of fear. Three days later, I was in my Anchorage office when CBJ called from her office in Wasilla, my home town. I still remember what time it was: 2:22pm.

“I have the amnio results,” she said. “I think you should come to my office ... Can you come now?”

“No, no, just give me the results over the phone,” I said, indulging in a little denial. If I just steeled myself, I thought on some wishful level, if I just took the medicine straight, maybe God would reward my guts with good news.

CBJ hesitated, then said, “No ... I really think you need to come out here.”

“Cathy, I’ve got so much to do here today. It’s okay ... whatever it is, it’s fine, just go ahead and tell me now.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “This child will be born with Down’s syndrome — ” “I’m coming to Wasilla,” I interrupted and hung up the phone.

I was shocked beyond words. Shocked that this was happening. How could God have done this? Obviously He knew Heather had a special-needs child. Didn’t He think that was enough challenge for one family? I drove the 45 minutes to Wasilla gritting my teeth. I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.

My stoicism in difficult times had always bugged and puzzled my friends and family. Bristol, my eldest daughter, once asked: “Mom, why don’t you ever cry? The rest of us are watching some movie, crying our eyes out, and you’re just sitting there.”

Though I didn’t tell Bristol this, I choke up all the time — at The Star-Spangled Banner, at any military event, seeing newborn babies — but secretly, where no one can see. Maybe it was because I’d grown up hunting and fishing with the guys, throwing elbows on the basketball court. Even when my heart was breaking on the inside, I just never wanted to seem weak. Now, as I pressed the accelerator past the speed limit towards Wasilla, my eyes stayed dry and my mind raced.

Maybe the test is wrong. Maybe my results are switched with somebody else. Maybe it’s a mistake. God ... are you listening?

But when I got to CBJ’s office, she showed me the pictures. There was an extra copy of chromosome 21.

“It’s a boy,” she said.

“A boy? You’re sure? Thank you, God.” For me, that was a glimmer of light, and I let it warm me as CBJ walked out of her office and returned with a book for expecting parents of babies with Down’s syndrome. I thanked her and laid it in my lap, unopened.

I just wasn’t ready; my sisters were the ones who could handle this, not me. Did I have enough love and compassion in me to do this? Don’t you have to be wired a little differently to be gifted with the ability to raise a special-needs child, a child who isn’t “perfect” in the eyes of society? I didn’t know if I should be ashamed of myself for even thinking these things.

I read that almost 90% of Down’s syndrome babies are aborted — so wasn’t that a message that this is not only a less-than-ideal circumstance but also one that it is virtually impossible to deal with? Now, just a couple of hours into this new world, I could not get my arms or heart around it. That fleeting thought descended on me again, not a consideration so much as a sudden understanding of why people would grasp at a quick “solution”, a way to make the “problem” just go away. But again, I had to hold on to that seed of faith.

Todd finally returned a few days later. He plopped down on the bed, still in his winter coat. I handed him the ultrasound pictures, and that’s when the dam broke. I could let my guard down.

“It’s a boy,” I said between the tears. “It’s definitely a boy.”

He looked up at me, and his eyes filled with tears. “See, Sarah? God knows what He’s doing! This is great.”

I stood beside the bed. I didn’t know how to say it any other way but straight. “The baby has Down’s syndrome.”

Todd didn’t speak. I remember him lying back on the bed, holding the ultrasound pictures and flipping through them. He’d look at one, put it in the back of the stack, look at the next. Over and over, silently, as though looking for answers.

Finally I sat down next to him. In his subdued way, he did not offer a reaction. So I had to ask. “Well ... what do you think?”

“How can they tell?” he asked quietly. “Are they sure?”

“Yes. There’s an extra chromosome.”

He set the pictures aside and turned his face towards mine. “I’m happy, and I’m sad,” he said.

I thought it was pretty perfect the way he said that, because that’s the way it was. That’s the way I felt, too.

Todd said, “It’s going to be okay.”

I asked if he had the same question I had: “Why us?”

He looked genuinely surprised by my question and responded calmly: “Why not us?”

From that moment, Todd never seemed to worry about it. Instead, he’d think out loud, wondering what the baby’s gifts would be. “What will he want to do?” he wondered. “Will he want to tinker with me in the garage? Will he want to ride on the four-wheeler and drive the skiff? I bet he’ll love to fly with me.”

He started asking other people with special-needs children a lot of questions: what does your kid do? Does he play any sports? From the start, my husband was much more accepting and optimistic than I was. His attitude was kind of like, “Well, okay ... here we go!” But I was still having a hard time wrapping my head and heart around it. So we didn’t share the pregnancy with anyone else, even our children, Track, Bristol, Willow and Piper.

It was such a tough thing to explain, and I just wasn’t ready to grapple with it yet or answer any questions. I had always faced life head-on, but here was something that had humbled me into silence.

I began writing a letter about the baby to our family and closest friends. In my research on Down’s syndrome, I learnt that these special kids most often bring joy into their family’s lives. While they had developmental challenges, they were also affectionate, generous and cheerful. Rather than focus on what could be perceived as negative, I wanted our loved ones to focus on the fact that this baby, every baby, has purpose, and that not only would he learn from us, but we would learn from him.

I decided to write the letter as though it were from his Creator, the same Creator in whom I had put my trust more than 30 years before. I hoped that even though this new baby would present challenges, we’d trust that God knew best.

Among other things, I wrote that “every child is created special, with awesome purpose and amazing potential. Children are the most precious and promising ingredient in this mixed-up world you live in down there on earth. Trig is no different, except he has one extra chromosome. Doctors call it Down’s syndrome, and Down’s kids have challenges but can bring you much delight and more love than you can ever imagine . . .”

Writing that letter was the best and most loving way I could find to share our news with the people we loved. I had no idea that a year later during the vicepresidential campaign a hostile journalist would use it to mock my family and the Christian faith, saying I was so selfabsorbed that I even wrote a letter “in the voice of God”.

Before we knew it, I was seven months along. I hadn’t put on a lot of weight and with winter clothes and a few cleverly draped scarves, no one saw my girth or suspected I was pregnant. But a blazer was getting tight enough that Willow looked at me one day and said, tactfully: “Geez, Mom, you’re porking up!”

“Oh, hush,” I said. “Now pass me the Häagen-Dazs. Chocolate, with peanut butter.”

I hadn’t quite finished writing my letter about Trig. But we shared the news with family and a few close friends that I was pregnant. The kids, of course, were overjoyed.

Shortly after that, we decided to go public, so I invited over three reporters, whom I knew well. I knew I could have just spoken candidly and said, “Hey, I’m going to have a baby . . .” Instead, I decided to have a little fun.

“Hey, guys,” I said with a grin, “I wanted to let you know that the first family is expanding.”

They all just looked at me. Dead silence.

Okay . . . let me try something else.

“Remember when I promised to ‘deliver’ for Alaska?”

Nothing. But now they took out their notepads and pens. Big scoop coming, they could feel it.

Finally, I gave up on the jokes and went direct: “Guys, I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby in two months!”

Three mouths fell open, and three pairs of eyes dropped straight to my stomach. I laughed out loud. The guys whipped out their phones as I waved goodbye. Within 10 minutes, the news was all over.

The next month, Todd and I checked into a hotel in Dallas. The following day I was scheduled to address another oil and gas conference. My pregnancy was going fine, and with five weeks to go, I felt great. But at 4am a strange sensation low in my belly woke me and I sat up straight in bed.

It can’t be, I thought. It’s way too early. Moments later, I shook Todd awake. “Something’s going on.”

He sat up in bed, instantly alert. “I’m calling CBJ.”

“No, don’t do that. It’s 1am in Alaska.”

I didn’t want to call anyone yet. I just wanted to take stock and see whether this baby was really coming. I also wanted time to pray and asked God silently but fervently to let everything be okay. Desperation for this baby overwhelmed me. Please don’t let anything happen to this baby. It occurred to me, once and for all: I’m so in love with this child, please, God, protect him! After all my doubts and fears, I had fallen in love with this precious child. The worst thing in the world would be that I would lose him. God knew what He was doing.

Over my protests, Todd called CBJ. I told her that I felt fine and absolutely did not want to cancel my speech and disappoint the folks at the conference. We agreed that I would take it easy, give my speech, then catch an earlier flight back to Alaska. I still had plenty of time.

Later that afternoon I spoke on the urgent need to tap conventional supplies and innovate on stabilising renewable sources. The audience graciously gave me a standing ovation. Then I handed the mic back to Governor Rick Perry of Texas, my co-host, and walked off the stage.

“Hey,” Rick drawled over the sound system with a chuckle, “we’re not finished with the programme!”

I turned around, smiled, waved and kept moving.

“I know you’re pregnant,” Rick said, joking into the mic. “But don’t tell me you’re going off to have the baby right now!”

The audience laughed. I smiled and waved goodbye. I thought, if you only knew!

I reached Todd at the exit, and he eyed me with a grin. “Love this state, but we can’t have a fish picker born in Texas.” It was a calm, relatively restful flight home.

Many hours and two flights later, with Todd and our daughters nearby, I delivered Trig Paxson Van Palin into the world at Mat-Su regional medical centre. When the nurse placed him in my arms, I was overwhelmed with love and with wonder. I knew God had answered my prayer so completely. He just nestled softly into me as if to say, “Aaaah ... I’m here, Mom.”

I was glad God brought him to us early. We were so anxious to meet him. I hadn’t known what to expect. I didn’t know what he would look like or how I would feel. But when I saw him, my heart was flooded with unspeakable joy. I knew that not only had God made Trig different but He had made him perfect.

The girls gently cooed and cuddled and quietly helped swaddle their new baby brother. Todd beamed. I heard him whisper to CBJ: “Hmmm, he doesn’t look Down’s.” CBJ looked up at Todd and gave him a kind, knowing smile.

When I look at my beautiful son today, I know what her smile meant. She sees it in the eyes of other parents who have a child that perhaps our world doesn’t consider precious or prized. I see photos of Trig and can recognise the physical traits that let all Down’s children look like brothers and sisters, the characteristics that may puzzle some who, just like me a few months prior, don’t yet understand. But looking at these children in real life, we see only perfection.

During the presidential election campaign in 2008 I visited Cedar Rapids, Iowa, a slice of Americana, with its quaint town square with mom-and-pop stores; red, white and blue bunting; moms and dads; kids in strollers; seniors; and people of every colour.

I was moving through the crowd, shaking hands and signing posters and hats and shirts, when I suddenly came to a stop. Standing on the other side of the rope were a woman and two teenagers whom I could not miss. The kids had Down’s syndrome. A boy and a girl.

“Hi, what’s your name?” I said to the girl, smiling.

The girl stammered for a minute and finally managed to say, “Sarah.”

“Sarah!” I said. “That’s my name, too! It’s so great to meet you, and we have the same name. Isn’t that amazing?”

Then I turned to the boy, and my heart just melted. Trig’s face flashed into my mind, and I thought: this could be my son 15 years from now.

By then, Trig was going on five months old and we were still learning the ropes of having a child with Down’s syndrome. We were so enjoying this little guy with his just-happy-to-be-here demeanour and his silly smiles, and watching him get stronger, chubbier and more fun every day, just like any other baby. Still, we were curious about what was ahead. We were managing well with him as a baby, but what about a toddler? As a teenager?

I reached over the rope and laid my hand against the boy’s face. “Let me look at you,” I said. “I want to get a good look at how beautiful my Trig is going to grow up to be.”

That was a turning point for me. At that moment, I realised in awe that these precious ones are all brothers and sisters. Before Trig was born, I didn’t know what to expect and we had a natural uncertainty about perceived “imperfection”. There, on the rope line in Cedar Rapids, I realised that my Trig is part of a large and very special community.

Look how their mother was making it work with these two precious teenagers. She cared so much to bring them out to a crowded, hectic but fun rally and give them what might be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, a presidential campaign event in their own hometown. I just knew there was no need to fear any more. At this rowdy rally in Iowa my world became a more peaceful place. Todd was right: everything was going to be all right.

As it turned out, the number of special-needs kids and adults who began showing up at events along the trail was spectacular. It was one of the absolute best parts of the campaign. I heard from experienced staffers that organisers would typically need maybe a sign-language interpreter and a handicapped area large enough to accommodate a few dozen wheelchairs. But it seemed that at all our stops, the number of wheelchairs multiplied, as did the number of kids and adults with various challenges.

On rope lines across the country, I remember making eye contact with special-needs families and carers. This connection was a kind of mutual acknowledgment that said, yes, their lives are precious. They’re worthy. And now we’re going to let America know that there’s no need to be afraid or hesitant. Instead, let’s work together to make this world a more welcoming place for everyone with special needs.

I remember another rally down in Pensacola, Florida. Up in the stands, I spotted a group of 15 kids with Down’s syndrome wearing shirts that said, “We love Trig!” and, “Trig in the White House!”

It was after meeting all these amazing people that Todd and I proudly displayed the bumper sticker a very cool group from Arizona sent us. It read, “My kid has more chromosomes than your kid!”

© Sarah Palin 2009 Extracted from Going Rogue: An American Life, by Sarah Palin, HarperCollins; 1st edition (November 17, 2009). Extract taken from The Sunday Times of London BooksFirst on 0845 271 2135

Via Texas for Sarah Palin - The Greater Reality

Ben Shapiro - God to Palin: 'You Go, Girl'

Here are some choice morsels from Ben Shapiro's Wednesday Townhall.com column:

Over the weekend, former John McCain campaign strategist Steve Schmidt told "60 Minutes" something shocking about McCain's former running mate, Sarah Palin. It seems that when Schmidt met Palin after McCain selected her, he was surprised that she was so calm. Schmidt apparently asked her how she could remain so tranquil in the face of such a monumental life change. She responded, "It's God's plan." read more

My Friend Randy Beeler On The "Real" Church

I am striving for sanctity, because in this way I shall be useful to the Church. I make constant efforts in practicing virtue. I try faithfully to follow Jesus. And I deposit this whole series of daily virtues—silent, hidden, almost imperceptible, but made with great love—in the treasury of God's Church for the common benefit of souls. I feel interiorly as if I were responsible for all souls. I know very well that I do not live for myself alone, but for the entire Church … (from the Diary of Saint Faustina Kowalska, ¶1505)read more

"I Don't Want Friends"

I have just been through one of the most difficult times of my life. That’s not really true – there were no guns involved and no one died and I was not left hungry and alone. So perhaps it wasn’t one of the most difficult times but it was a very, very hard time. A time of facing fear. A time when I found myself in a place I had been before and wanted to run except my running days are in the past, and perhaps in the future (certainly, I shall run and dance in heaven – but for now, I’m only talking about earth) – running in the present isn’t an option. I can’t breathe well enough and haven’t the energy – and it would hurt, a lot. So instead of running, I remained still and did what I knew I must do, I asked for help. And my friends came. And they helped. They lifted me up and carried me to a place where I could rest my head (and that’s very important because I am recovering from a nasty bout of the flu).

Help came from friends I’ve known for years and from those I’ve only known through the internet but have not yet met face to face. People came to my home and refused to let me work, made me sit in my comfy leather chair and rest while they danced about me and made my annual Epiphany party a joy, an occasion of laughter and fun. And when I was too tired to sit up any longer, they sent me to bed and cleaned and left a huge amount of cake in my refrigerator and even took out the garbage. Friends ensured that I would be able to pay my rent and utility bills and buy medicine and eat and have a cushion while I wait for my long term disability cheques to begin. Friends did not leave me alone but came to be with me and my suffering wasn’t worth a moment’s attention because I was too busy being grateful and delighted and having my stony heart broken into a million glittering pieces; I think they made it a more the kind of heart that pumps love into the Body of Christ because friends have been pumping so much love into me. I have no family but I am very, very fortunate because I have such dear, dear friends.

My roommate is moving out at the end of this month. I’ve only known her since November but in that time she too has become very, very dear to me. She has been my friend, become part of the dance that has woven it’s way around and through my life and cared for me when I was unable to care for myself. She has laughed at me and my love of butter, laughed when I knew she was giving me a mushroom sautéed in margarine, laughed at the funny expressions on my face and the childish delight I have been unable to hide. We’ve shared secrets and discoveries and she bakes a mean apple pie. Already I miss her and I will miss her more than any other roommate I’ve ever had. She is a younger sister I never knew I needed or wanted. She is like my friends’ two month old baby son, they can’t imagine life without him. She has come into my life and my home, into the lives of my friends, and I and they are richer because of her. We all desire to welcome her into our lives, to create space for her and her friends, to throw our arms around her and love her.

But she does not want friends. She has actually told me that. She is very young and her youth is evidenced by that one fact: she does not want friends. She tells me I have wonderful friends, amazing friends, she has befriended me herself, but she does not want friends. She desires to make a separate place for herself where she will be alone with the painful secrets of her life and no one will know her. So while telling herself that we will still be friends, she engages in a headlong rush to double her rent and deprive herself of friendship at a time when she cannot afford to spend so much money, to lose any love.

And all I can do is weep for her, let my heart ache because friendship is more valuable than she knows and I haven’t the words to convince her of that. My loss is immense, made larger by knowing how huge a loss she is imposing upon herself. I have not always valued friendship as I should, though I have been granted the grace, thus far, of not walking away from what I knew at the time to be the gift of friendship. I want more for her. My friends want more for her. We know she was made for more. She wants less. Please keep her in your prayers. Lord, please heal her.

* Please keep me in your prayers too. I will be undergoing another round of chemo once I recover from the flu. And though I had planned to move to TX at the end of February, I will have to delay the move until this summer. Oh, and of course I’m searching for a new roommate. But it's still a glorious time and God is so good.

Please Keep CA & Prop 8 In Your Intentions

And please consider fasting: "Who knows, God may yet repent and turn from his fierce anger, so that we perish not?" (Jonah 3:9)

I've Removed The Ads

I'm at home in bed a lot, worrying about money too much, trying to do everything I've been given to do to care for myself and it's just not enough. Two people have helped me: one gift through this site and a loan from a friend and I am very grateful. But there's a big difference between a reguar paycheck and waiting for disability payments to begin or to be given permission to use money that belongs to you but isn't yet available due to some technical rules that make absolutely no sense and boil down to, we must be certain to cover our derrieres. It's rather maddening particularly when one is sick. But advertisements aren't the way to go.

I do ask your prayers, particularly for my financial situation. And I wish all the silly people making rules and more rules and more rules would just sit down and talk to people like me so that they'd know, what we need and how horrid it is to make things so much more difficult for people already facing so much.

If you have any say in the matter, don't get sick. Of course if that's what God brings, then I pray for the love and care, including practical care, you need to make it through. Sometimes I wish I was a sister or a nun in an infimary - it would be good to rest.

A Particular Gift We Americans Have Been Given

Will we treat it like used Christmas wrapping or cherish it as the precious and undeserved gift it is?

Healthcare "Reform" Is A Very Catholic Issue

Funding abortions is only one pro-death provision that is included in the bill. Please just listen and become aware:



God bless and have a blessed Christmas!

It's Time for Sanity

I haven't time to wrte my Green post at the moment (I've been sick quite a lot and otherwise occupied these past two weeks). One or two things must be said though.

First, there are poor, developing nations that have neither the funds nor the infrastructure to care for their citizens. I would love to research nations one-by-one and write about those that are developing and those that are like Brazil:

"Speaking as the voice of the developing world," Brazilian President Lula da Silva gave a passionate speech where he scolded the developed world for not negotiating on climate change in good faith with poorer nations. He also said this conference is not about climate change, but about economic opportunities for the developing world."

Brazil is not a developing nation. It is, and for long has been, a corrupt nation. A nation that denies 98% of it's citizens the opportunity to rise above a level of poverty that no one in this country can imagine, even those who live in the Appalachians. In this country, we can choose to change our lives. Hard work, patience, creativity, faith, hope and often a hand up are all necessary. But in the United States of America, we can create lives for ourselves and our families.

In Brazil, particularly in the cities, many, many children live on trash heaps. Those who have families are fortunate as are those who live in favellas. Many children are left on their own, sometimes while they are just toddlers. They band together and survive but without the socializing influence of family and community, they become feral and very, very dangerous. There is a small middle class that is happy not to live as the poor do; mostly they are silent; the favellas are given a nice bright coat of paint just in time for Carnivale. And then there are the fabulously wealthy who have been known to hire death squads to kill homeless children as they sleep in shop doorways; one doesn't want to frighten the tourists away. Without the Church* and other charitable organizations, many, many Brazilians would be consigned to utter hopelessness.

Brazil is a beautiful country with abundant resources. But those who govern Brazil desire only their own wealth, their own comfort. Brazil and Mexico and Argentina and so many other developing nations need to look to their own misdeeds, to their own failure to acknowledge the dignity of the human beings who also just happen to be the citizens of their countries. Instead, Brazil is demanding handouts. And Europe and North America are planning to donate $100 billion to line the pockets of corrupt officials who go by many names but never provide a framework which will foster "domestic tranquillity and the common good"?! It's indecent! It's evil.

In the last paragraph of the article UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown sums it up beautifully:

"Without common action," extreme temperatures will create a new generation of poor with climate change refugees driven from their homes by drought, climate change evacuees fleeing the threat of drowning, the climate change hungry desperate for lack of food," Brown said. "Hurricanes, floods, typhoons and droughts that were once all regarded as the acts of an invisible god are now revealed to be also the visible acts of man.

That's their story and they're sticking to it. So nations have no responsibility for themselves. Instead, breathing causes all the problems that exist from warts to typhoons. CO2 makes up 4% of what we exhale with each breath. It's not a poison nor is it a pollutant. It's what causes plants to grow and actually helps filter harmful radiation. The world's climate changes because God created it to change: this is part of "the whole creation ...groaning in travail together." (Romans 8:22)

Evil men are perpetrating monstrous evil on the world. The truth is being revealed but most people I encounter are so steeped in the belief that simply living in a prosperous country is destroying the earth and that an apocalypse is just around the corner. God is no longer in charge. We are alone. Redemption is a lie. There are even those who trumpet: "It's too late to change! We're all doomed."

Yesterday I finally finished reading Sarah Palin's autobiography, Going Rogue: An American Life. I may have mentioned before that I like this woman. I will admit that I tend to like anyone who believes in baking cakes - cake may be my second favourite food, after butter. But when I learned her favourite verse of Scripture, I saw more clearly why I like her so much. Fallen Sparrow's often reminds me of this:

...God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.** (2 Timothy 1:7)

Our job is to be witnesses to the truth. God is in charge. We are not. It's as simple as that. We can wreck havoc with bombs but not with breathing. We must be good stewards of our world, we must not foul it with garbage and real poisons and pollutants (like hormones from birth control pills which actually harm fish), but we can exhale, without fear. Anything else is monstrous madness and we have been given the soundness of mind to know it. God has not created a zero sum game wherein my good prevents yours. Instead, he has given us a world full of abundance, of minds with the ability to care for the gift of this world and provide for our needs - both, at the same time. We must rouse ourselves and each from this silly dream and do our jobs as witnesses to the Truth.

* As in much of Latin America and most poor countries, many different Christian denominations minister to the needs of the poor. The Catholic Church is in the forefront (and everywhere else too) but my use of the term "Church" here includes all denominations.


** [for Nerds only] Translation from the King James Version. The RSV has "self-control" rather than "of a sound mind." Other translations use self-discipline, good judgement, sobriety, etc. Had I more time I'd conduct further research but for now, I'll depend on Liddell and Scott which includes them all but offers "soundness of mind" first. That translation is appropriate to this particular piece.


*** I can documentat the statements I've made in this post.

Advertisements

I've added advertisements after my posts. My big fear is that some thing I find utterly abhorent, like "Green" garbage or birth control will be advertised. Supposedly I can filter some of that out so we'll just give this a try. I may see if I can find more precise ads to replace these (like I saw an Ad for eCards from a community of the Poor Clares) and if any of you know of sources, please comment. This isn't to make money - at least not necessarily. Rather, it's to broaden things a bit.)

(NB: I don't know what happened there but this is the way it should have been.)

We're Not the First!

"They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger?
Will it be the next week, or the next year?
Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house?
Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction?
Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot?

Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power.
Three millions of people, armed in the holy cause of Liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us.
Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us.

The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave."

---- Patrick Henry, given at the Second Virginia Conference, Richmond, Virginia on March 23, 1775 (the "Grant Me Liberty or Grant Me Death" speech)

Rattling the Tin Cup

You may have noticed the "Donations Now Accepted" button I placed in the right section not long ago. It was rather a scary thing to do even though I know other bloggers "rattle the tin cup" from time to time. Blogging is a gift and one doesn't charge for a gift. It makes no sense to me that I should charge anyone who wants to read my writing - at least not in this forum. But, times have changed and my tentative request for donations is now a genuine appeal.

I've been out on disability since July which has been fine because I've had some level of salary continuation and have been able to cover my bills. Now that is over and I've been trying to get straight answers from my firm re my relationship with them. If I am no longer an employee, I have access to the money I need to pay my December and January bills while I wait for my long term disability policy to begin (that begins as of 1/5/10 but won't be paid out until later in the month because firms and organizations don't do their jobs in a timely fashion). Those funds will also cover my move to Texas where the weather is warmer and easier on my joints, and the doctors I've encountered are focused on helping me get well rather than on just medicating me into a zombie.

If I am an employee of the firm, I must wait until they decide to release me and can't use the funds in my profit sharing account and those are the only savings I have left. After being out sick last year and paying the expenses so that I could make it through work this year (including $200+/week for taxis so I could get a little more rest on the way to and because I was so exhausted and in pain returning from work), I have no other savings left. I've been going back and forth for a while with my firm and may well need to have an attorney write them and get a straight answer. Fortunately, I have a friend who has been volunteered to help me.

Not too many years ago, I could just wait it out but I can't now. I'm already beginning to delay refills on certain prescriptions and visits to certain doctors - $10, $15 and $25 copays add up very quickly; I'm trying to avoid spending as much as possible. This will all be resolved: because I have a policy and needn't wait for SSI; I'm certainly in a more fortunate place than many I know. Right now though, I could use financial help.

So if my writing gives you anything good and you can afford it, I'd appreciate any donation you care to make. And if you do decide to donate, please know that I am very grateful. Of course if you don't decide to donate, you're still welcome. Please also keep me in your prayers, especially pray that I will have the courage to do the task that is before me this minute and not worry about anything else. I'll keep you updated and in my prayers.

Thanks so much.

Drusilla

On The 40th Day Evil Reveals Itself

This article is important because it shows the attitude of those at the Copenhagen conference. I don't think most of them realize the evil they are representing, the evil they are playing with as children play with toys. The desire to control, to destroy millions of human beings, to prevent the birth of millions more, to make a world without people is madness and, at the same time, evil.

This is the revelation of what we have been asking God to heal in our world. Somehow being people who worship God, who thank God, who value God's gift of a land where God may be worshipped in peace is fighting this madness. The 40 days may be ending today but the job is only beginning; today, we have been shown the enemy and are asked if we will continue to fight.

An Important Article

It has been a bad day and I should be asleep but I did one last email check, found this article and realized I must post it. It's a response to why there are those who actually hate Sarah Palin.

I'm slowly making my way through her autobiography and I must say, I really like this woman. She asked God to make certain that she is always conected to Him, even if by just a string; that she would be a kite under His control. (I'll provide the exact quote when I have a chance.) How could I not like someone who has such an intimate relationship with God? And who's a mother and, often, has amazing style?

Anyway, before I begin rambling, read the piece and let me know what you think.

Abby Johnson's Story - Part II

Every one deceives his neighbor,
and no one speaks the truth;
they have taught their tongue to speak lies;
they commit iniquity and are too weary to repent.
Heaping oppression upon oppression, and deceit upon deceit,
they refuse to know me, says the LORD. (Jeremiah 9:5-6)

We do it so early:

"Mom! May I have a cookie?"
"No, it's too close to dinner."
"Dad! May I pleeeez have a cookie? I’m so hungry!"
"Okay, but just this one time. And don't tell your Mother! She'd say it's too close to dinner."

Result: A cookie.

Learned: If one authority says No, another will say Yes! Keep going to authorities until the right one agrees.

Skill: Lie to yourself about the existence of authority so as to protect the secret that you are your own ultimate authority; you decide for yourself what is right and what is wrong.

Abby Johnson volunteered to escort women into the facilities in Bryan, TX, she interned with the group and, after college, began working for Planned Parenthood (PP) – an organization that she felt helped women and gave them alternatives, provided them with gynecological care and reproductive services such as birth control and, when absolutely necessary, abortion. But Abby believed that women should have choices so when her Southern Baptist church “felt there was a spiritual conflict in what [she] was doing” and when it and a nondenominational one told her she could not join, Abby and her husband made the sort of choice many, many self-respecting people make today, they began worshipping at an Episcopal church that welcomed them. “Though she was raised Southern Baptist… [she] just [began] to rationalize it. [She] didn’t want to leave these women without options, so [she began] to think [she was] doing the right thing, although it [didn’t] feel right.”*

Abby worked her way up to director of PP in Bryan, TX and found herself responsible for twelve service areas including contraceptives and abortions. At PP, Abby learned many things. She learned that non-sonogram guided, surgical abortions cost about $475, that the doctors who performed them were paid about $75, that other costs were minimal and so PP earned nearly $400 each for these types of abortions; medical (RU486) and surgical abortions brought in more money than contraceptive and healthcare services. Abby learned to reconstruct the pieces of dismembered babies on a tray to ensure there were no parts of the body left in a woman’s womb; it was dead tissue. When the economic climate changed she learned that there was no need to be concerned because abortions offset losses from contraceptive and healthcare services which were being used less frequently.

Eventually, Abby was told to increase the number of abortions because PP was unhappy with it’s balance sheet. When she mentioned that reproductive and women’s healthcare services were PP’s mission, she was told to focus on getting in as many abortions as possible. Doing so was simple. PP, which had previously provided abortions only on alternate Saturdays, began to provide medical abortions every day while it continued to provide surgical abortions only on alternate Saturdays. The more abortion was available, the more women came to have them. One day, a married couple came in planning to have an abortion because they said they could not afford to have more children. They wanted to know if the mother was pregnant with twins and when a sonogram revealed that in fact the mother was carrying two babies, they were elated and realized they couldn’t abort. Abby counseled them to trust that decision. After the couple left, she was asked if she had at least collected the fee for the sonogram – she had forgotten. Abby began to realize there was a problem with PP and she was right in the midst of it.

Then came the Saturday that Abby was asked to assist with a sonogram guided abortion. Those cost more and were more rarely performed. The mother was sedated and unaware of the drama playing out around her and her child. Abby’s job was to move the probe on the mother’s abdomen to locate the child in his mother’s womb. What she saw on the screen was astounding. Abby, the mother of a three year old child, saw a perfectly formed thirteen week-old baby; she had seen the same image while having a sonogram when she was twelve weeks pregnant with her own daughter. “What am I doing here!” she asked herself as the doctor inserted the instrument. As soon as it touched the placenta, the baby jerked, Abby jerked. Then she watched in horror as the tiny infant frantically paddled his feet trying to escape. Abby realized the baby was alive and desperately fighting for his life. The doctor brought the instrument up against the baby’s perfectly and delicately formed spine and turned on the suction. Abby watched the tiny spine crumple and then whoosh! The baby was gone. She dropped the probe.

Abby’s hand was resting on the mother’s abdomen and she realized, there was a life here and now he is gone. The doctor looked at her in anger because she had dropped the probe. Abby picked it up and told herself, “I will never do this again.”

* I felt it important to change Abby's quotes from second person to third person so that her words would be directly describing her own personal experience.

** Part III coming soon.

He's Coming!

I tend to forget that I can only do one thing each day. Then laundry day comes around and with it I inhale many puffs of various breathing meds & am ustterly wiped out by a task that I once did in an hour and a half, early in the a.m. before running off to do so much more. Today was laundry day (6 - 7 weeks since the last one) and I am exhausted. But then I read the Sisters of Life Advent meditation & realized I could share it without demanding too much more of myself. Here it is; may God bless every one of us:

Dear Coworkers of Life,

During Advent, in contemplation of Christ’s entrance into the world, one finds light in many unexpected and hidden places. The extraordinary is clothed with the ordinary, full of the mystery of the light that is Christ. We begin with the Holy Spirit, who will always point the way to Christ. We begin with a quote from Cardinal O’Connor, who spoke so beautifully of The Holy Spirit, Our Lady and the mystery of the Incarnation.

“The first Pentecost took place within Mary and the result of the first Pentecost was the conception of Christ in the womb.”

“The Holy Spirit will come upon you. The child to be born will be called the Son of God.” When Mary accepted Gabriel’s message with her “yes”, she received the Holy Spirit, and this moment, the first Pentecost, was the moment of the Incarnation. From that moment, when she received the Holy Spirit and Jesus Incarnate, she would see everything in light of Christ. Cardinal O’Connor continues, moving from Pentecost Sunday to the time of the Annunciation…

“So when we find them on Pentecost Sunday they’re still locked together in an upper room. It’s not until the Holy Spirit comes down upon them that they receive the courage and strength the fortitude, the perseverance and interestingly we are told in confirmation, in the sacrament of confirmation, the gift of reverence. That’s the gift that Mary received when the Holy Spirit came upon her. Henceforth nothing would again be casual or small. Everything with light invested overspilled with terror and divinity. So the apostles received that same gift of reverence…”

The Sisters of Life wear a medal of the Madonna of the Streets. On the back of the medal is inscribed the words “and nothing would again be casual or small,” a line from a poem by Father John Duffy on the Annunciation, The words speak of the moment that Christ came into the world and changed everything! He is the light that shines in the darkness!

“Once Mary conceived the Word beneath her heart, she comes to recognize as never before that not one thing had its being but through Him…nothing will ever again be casual or small, but everything with light invested…”

This mystery is meant to be carried out in us, the mystical Body of Christ. As Mary and the Apostles received the Holy Spirit, we can call on the same Holy Spirit to enlighten us and show us Jesus, growing in our hearts. We can utter our “fiats” many times through the day and His light will grow within us until we become so transparent that His light bursts through and touches the lives of those we meet. We nurture Him within us through prayer, little sacrifices, and especially through gratitude. When we receive Christ in the Eucharist, we carry him ‘beneath our hearts’ just as Our Blessed Mother carried Christ beneath her heart. By regularly receiving the sacraments, especially the sacrament of the Eucharist, we are strengthened and we come to see with the eyes of Christ, with His heart. The extraordinary is found in the ordinary.

What a wonderful season is Advent, the expectation, the silence, the growth. May we all be touched by the Holy Spirit and come to see that “nothing would again be casual or small.”

PS - The SOL make the best chocolate covered toffee I've ever eaten - even vbetter than I've had in England. If you have an opportunity to go to the Advent reception (a grand "thank you" celebration for all their helpers great & small) trays of it will be passed. Eat as much of it as possible. At this point, I don't think they sell it - though I hope I'm wrong. It's amazingly delicious.

The Kingdom of Heaven Must Be Among Us

I've been ill most of today but eventually felt up to checking my email and found one asking me to take a survey which involved reading some comments on a discussion forum. It seemsed harmless enough so I gave it a whirl and quickly paged through the comments only to encounter one that made me stop and realize it was time to begin to say some of the things that have come up for me during 40 Days for Freedom. What follows is the email that I wrote as a result. (NOTE: ital = quotes from Ms. Newman's site; bold = issues that stood out for me.)

We must accept that worshipping God in holiness and righteousness in this unique place is both a political* as well as spiritual issue because we are both citizens of a particular state and of the Kingdom of Heaven. Just as we cannot separate our bodies and souls, we cannot choose between our citizenship in both earth and the Kingdom of Heaven. As long as we live on earth and follow Christ, we will be citizens of both. And here, in this particular place, of all the places on earth, God has given us the grace to worship Him freely. And that matters! To us, personally and also to the world as a whole.

In a world convinced that He has forgotten us, a world filled with despair, the USA proclaims that the Kingdom of Heaven is actually coming into being. We are a visible, physical place that others long for because they long for freedom but true freedom is following Christ and only here can we even begin to follow Him with our bodies and minds and souls. Here, in this place, we can be evidence that Christ's freedom is real. Not perfectly - it's still earth - but perhaps just enough.

* Political: of citizens or the state, civil, civic

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Ms. Newman -

I'm concerned about some of the things I've read on your site and wanted to bring them to your attention (in no particular order).

I ask my minority friends, how do you think that $318 million dollars could have improved your life in East St. Louis? I stand before you, to ask for your vote and support in this election — not your money — just your VOTE on November 2, 2010. The Democrats have USED YOUR SUPPORT TO STAY IN POWER AND ENRICH THEMSELVES AT YOUR EXPENSE, while at the same time, allowing your living conditions to continue to get worse. Is there ANY WAY I could POSSIBLY do less for you that the Democrats have done for you in the last 30 years?

One of the biggest problems that exists in US govt is this doing things for us. Americans are supposed to be a self-governing, self-supporting people who do things for themselves at the local level and send representatives to State & Local Assembles/Congress/the White House/etc to serve us. The service is limited by the US and State Constitutions. The worst thing any politician can do is tell us that he/she is going to do things for us.

The America of today is not the America of my childhood. Our problems have become more complicated, and our ability to solve them has diminished markedly. Our country needs NEW leaders. The culture of corruption that has taken over our nation’s Capitol is a threat to all of us. Honesty and integrity in government has gone by the wayside as our elected officials serve only those with money to spend, and who can buy whatever they want from our legislators and leave the rest of us to pay the bill.

WE are the ones who are paying the outrageous taxes brought on by the exceedingly poor management of our tax dollars. Government waste has gone far beyond outrageous. Government corruption is a rotting, bloated cow that will poison all of us if we do nothing and IT MUST STOP!! The trillions of dollars that are being wasted, spent on bailouts, bailouts that were opposed by the voters who were IGNORED by our so-called REPRESENTATIVES, have put our country in terrible jeopardy.

It should be against the law to vote on a bill that you have not read. Would you personally sign a contract that you yourself have not read? No, of course not!! Why then, should it be OK to vote on a bill, representing your constituents, that you haven’t read, that will spend millions, if not billions of OUR tax money? That’s not representation, that’s malfeasance of office ... and JERRY COSTELLO SUPPORTED THE BAILOUT AND VOTED FOR IT!!

We will never have the America of our childhoods but the founding fathers gave us (all the citizens of the US) the tools to solve the problems we face. Again, it's not a matter of leadership because we lead ourselves. It's a matter of doing it on the local level and govt is involved as little as possible. It's not that our tax $$ have been badly spent, it's not even the failure to read the bills (though that's important), it's that we are being taxed on every level and govt thinks it can take from us whenever it pleases. Representatives/servants, on the other hand, do the job they've taken on and must really convince us to allow them to spend any of our money. we need no new leaders but willing servants/representatives. With leaders, we have people telling us what to do. With reps/servants, we determine what to do.

What do you think is going to happen to us when the COMMUNIST CHINESE stop buying our debt? Think about that for just a minute

I wish politicians would think about this issue. I wish they would also realize that if they get out of the way, Americans can figure out ways to pay down the debt and go from being a borrowing nation to one that lends. The same is true about healthcare - we can figure it out.

Overall, we need the minimum amount of govt interference. We need reps/servants who will actually work on dismantling the Unconstitutional megalith our govt has become. We need to return responsibility to the states, enforce our immigration laws and control our borders, support our friends and stand up to our enemies and be clear on which is which - we need to realize that the country that came into being because we wanted to worship God in freedom still exists and be that country.

I am looking for reps/servants to support for 2010 throughout the country. I will give my $$ to those who convince me that they will actually represent me. I haven't got a great deal but there are many like me and together, we've got the ability to take this country back. If you want our support, please take a good look at the language you use (we will believe what you say - we've been taught that lesson well) and most importantly, discover what we actually want. Your site, while discussing some very important issues, represents more nanny govt. We're adults. We do it for ourselves. We'd be proud to help you serve us if that's the job you believe you've been given. But take an honest assessment of yourself: if you're a do-gooder with a plan or even just the determination to fix things for us, please don't run. Too many of those in office today began that way. We don't need more. I'll be following your campaign.

Drusilla Barron

PS - I'll have Pt II of Abby Johnson's story in a day or two. God bless.

I've Added a Donation Button

I'm going onto permanent disability and for the next several weeks, I shall be going through some financially tight times. So I've decided to add a donate button. I have no doubt God will care for all my needs - He always has. And this might be one way He chooses to do so. If you feel so inclined, I'd appreciate any donations you'd care to make. Thanks. Drusilla

40 Days For Freedom: Happy Thanksgiving

God of light and life's creation,
reigning over all supreme,
daunting our imagination,
prospect glorious yet unseen:
Lord, whom earth and heaven obey,
turn towards this house today!

God of justice in our nation,
Fearing neither rich nor strong,
Granting truth its vidication,
Passing sentence on all wrong:
Lord, by whom we die or live,
Hear, and as you hear, forgive.

God the Father, Son, and Spirit,
Trinity of love and grace,
Through your mercy we inherit
Word and worship in this place:
Let our children all their days
To this house return with praise!*

I encountered this hymn for the first time this morning during my morning prayers and thought it sums up the prayers we are presenting to the Lord during these forty days. And then I read a meditation by Fr. Richard Veras in the magazine, Magnificat and wanted to share a portion of it as well:

"Our sense of our unworthiness is not something to shun or ignore or get over. It is the very thing that allows us to experience wonder before the unimaginable gratuitousness of God. A culture that convinces us that we are the ones who independently make things happen in our lives and we are the ones who deserve all the credit for our accomplishments is a culture that attempts to rob us of God by eclipsing him behind our self-afirmation.

"This Thanksgiving let us go even deeper into the awareness that Someone is loving us. Let us be thankful for the very fact that we are chosen: chosen to exist, chosen to be baptized, chosen to know Christ in our lives. Why should God have chosen us? The less able we are to answer that question the more able we are to live a profoundly joyful thanksgiving."

I do not think it a coincidence that so many came to this land seeking a place to worship God in holiness and righteousness, to worship God in peace. I believe that that desire and our living out of it, even in slipshod, inept fashion as is often the case, have, along with the rule of law, made this the land it is: this is not Latin America. Yes there is poverty here but not the sort that is found just south of our borders. One of the greatest mistakes Americans make is to romanticize Latin America. There is great beauty in those countries but also great institutionalized corruptions and extreme, habitual cruelty. America is unique and we can either give thanks to God for His great gift - or not.

May God bless us all and teach us all to love Him and give Him the praise, honour and gratitude due Him. Have a blessed Thanksgiving day.

* © Michael A. Perry

The Gates of Hell

"Hear this, O foolish and senseless people,
who have eyes, but see not,
who have ears, but hear not.
Do you not fear me? says the LORD;
Do you not tremble before me?
I placed the sand as the bound for the sea,
a perpetual barrier which it cannot pass;
though the waves toss, they cannot prevail,
though they roar, they cannot pass over it.
But this people has a stubborn and rebellious heart;
they have turned aside and gone away.
They do not say in their hearts,
`Let us fear the LORD our God,
who gives the rain in its season,
the autumn rain and the spring rain,
and keeps for us
the weeks appointed for the harvest.'
Your iniquities have turned these away,
and your sins have kept good from you.
For wicked men are found among my people;
they lurk like fowlers lying in wait.
They set a trap;
they catch men.
Like a basket full of birds,
their houses are full of treachery;
therefore they have become great and rich,
they have grown fat and sleek.
They know no bounds in deeds of wickedness;
they judge not with justice
the cause of the fatherless, to make it prosper,
and they do not defend the rights of the needy.
Shall I not punish them for these things? says the LORD,
and shall I not avenge myself
on a nation such as this?"
An appalling and horrible thing
has happened in the land:
the prophets prophesy falsely,
and the priests rule at their direction;
my people love to have it so,
but what will you do when the end comes? (Jeremiah 5:21-31)

What do we do when the end comes? What do we do when we’ve been pushed to the very edge and don’t know the only way out? Isn’t that the fear we avoid facing for as long as possible, all our lives if we’re “lucky”? And isn’t that the current word on the street that most of us hear?

The end is very near.

There’s no way out.

It’s hopeless.

I was recently privileged to meet Abby Johnson the young woman who quit her job as director of Planned Parenthood in Bryan, TX. One of the many things she had to say is that PP employees are brainwashed to believe that they will not be able to get another job elsewhere once they work for PP because “they do abortions.” They are told that there is nowhere to go. Told only PP cares about them. To find a church to attend, Abby herself had to change denominations because she worked for PP. Then the day came when she knew she could not stay any longer. And she found herself begging God, What can I do? Where can I go?

I have taken the phrase “Storming the Gates of Hell” as a sort of tag line for the Forty Days for Freedom movement. After reading and hearing all the “Be afraid! Be very afraid!” posts and emails and admonitions, it seems appropriate. A couple of years ago, Fallen Sparrow pointed out to me that in regards to “upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it”* we must remember who is attacking whom. When presented with that passage, whether from Catholic, Baptist or Anglican perspectives, the message was always that (cue deep scary voice) the Gates of Hell were attacking but don’t worry, they won’t overcome us. Ultimately, though many might fall in battle (including my family), (cue deep scary voice) the Gates of Hell would themselves be overcome. But on that day, Fallen Sparrow told me that the Church was supposed to be on the attack against those huge, more horrific than the Black Gates of Mordor , nightmare gates that I knew were really out to crush me and that got me thinking about what gates are and what they do.

Gates allow access into and out of an enclosed place. If gates are to prevail, they can only do so by being inaccessible, unassailable. Either one can’t get in or one can’t escape. If the construction is bad or enough of the wall is destroyed, gates may fall down. But as for attacking – that has more to do with the really bad horror movies I saw as a kid than reality. Gates don’t attack. They look scary. They look impregnable. Still, in any heavily fortified enclosure gates, as the Witch King of Angmar realizes, are always the weakest point. So, the weakest point of hell will not prevail against Christ’s Church. Hmmmm. In a flash I knew I’d had it backwards. There were no ominous Gates out to get me but merely my fertile and wounded imagination working overtime. And as for the real gates of hell…

On the day Abby Johnson asked God what to do and where to go, she looked out the window and saw two women who had come to pray for women having abortions and for those who work in the abortion industry.** They were a familiar sight. People came to pray whenever abortions were being performed. She got in her car and drove two houses down the street to the Campaign for Life office where she was welcomed with great joy. (To be continued.)

* Matthew 16:18 (Taken from the King James Version. I’d be happy to discuss my translation choice if anyone so desires. You may email me or leave a comment.)

** Abortion is an industry and I will address that further n the next part of Abby’s story.

Now Thank We All Our God

I believe that our prayers and sacrifices are making a difference. I believe that our elected representatives are speaking up and representing us. I believe we have reason to hope. I believe we are doing the work necessary to become citizens who thank God first:

Fallen Sparrow & I had lunch w/ a mutual friend today. FS & I said let's say grace & our friend was pleasantly surprised and joined us in saying grace at a public restaurant in front of all those people. Perhaps he'll suggest grace next time and get into the habit of saying grace at every meal.

What if we do that next? What if we say grace before every meal whether in public or private (but especially in public)? I understand that might be difficult for some who have business meals but it still might be possible. And if it is possible, if we can be a nucleus of people who encourage others to thank God by thanking Him ourselves, wouldn't that be lovely?

What do you all think?

What Kind of People?

Between twitter hackers and computer excitement (hd wiped out - lost everything) and two (2) new roommates moving in at about the same time, it has been an amazingly busy several days with little time for writing but perhaps that's not so bad. Thoughts have had free flow and I'm beginning to know what I want to say.

Often, I find myself radically at odds with the world around me. There is that which is obviously wrong and that which is almost going in the right direction but is off, just enough, so that it's obvious it will not reach the goal. And then there is that which has no real goal in mind but only likes to be with the "winning" team. I certainly have no patent on all or much of anything that is right. All I have is what I might call an interior compass that pokes at me when things are off and it's been poking and jabbing a lot recently. We know there are some major problems in our country and can delineate what many of those problems are. But those problems are too often with others and not with ourselves. And that's deadly. Because even if we do "fix" the problems within our government and schools and families we will have only replaced one set of problems with another; joyless puritanism could easily replace sterile licentiousness in our culture.

In my current reading of the Bible as if it is one book (and I didn't even skip through the Wisdom of Solomon - a dreary read), I am in the midst of Isaiah, "the Book of Consolation," which consists of the chapters numbered 40 and higher. God's people, who have been in exile, are coming home. When I studied the Book of Isaiah, exile had come as a result of Israel's failure to care for widows and orphans and the strangers in their midst. Studying under Anglicans in the mid 1990s, Isaiah was a book about the results of social justice first and then idolatry. Certainly both are central themes but this time I discovered another theme that permeates the book and cannot be escaped: Israel's lack of gratitude. It is their failure to thank God that leads them to idolatry: Israel must be grateful to the living God so as to withstand the immense temptations to idolatry that surrounded them in every other country and culture. It is their failure to thank God that leads them to social injustice: Israel must be grateful to God so as to remember that they came from no people and God has made them His people, that they were once wanderers in need of help and God helped them. Unless Israel remains mindful that all they are and have comes from God, unless Israel is faithful in thanking God, they will return to idolatry and social injustice and exile.

The Civil War was fought to determine whether the Union would be preserved. We are in a war now, not to preserve our Union but to determine what kind of people we will be. Thus far, this war has been dramatically different and I beg you to plead with God that it continue without anymore violence than we have already experienced. This country has much in common with pre-exilic Israel. We were founded as a place to worship God in peace. Our Constitution and our laws exist so as to prevent governemnt from interfering with us worshiping God.* How we worship HIm varies to a greater or lesser extent depending upon our religious faith, but even the founding fathers would have admonished us to thank God at all times and in all ways. To thank Him for preserving us. To thank Him for endowing us with such bounty. To thank Him for giving us a home where we can worship Him in peace. And if we are to win this war, I mean really win it, we must become The People Who Thank God. Though the world think us crazy, we must thank God. Whatever the cost, we must thank God. Regardless our denominations and other differences, we must thank God.

Look to Abraham your father and to Sarah who bore you; for when he was but one I called him, and I blessed him and made him many.
For the LORD will comfort Zion; he will comfort all her waste places, and will make her wilderness like Eden, her desert like the garden of the LORD; joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the voice of song.
"Listen to me, my people, and give ear to me, my nation; for a law will go forth from me, and my justice for a light to the peoples.
My deliverance draws near speedily, my salvation has gone forth, and my arms will rule the peoples; the coastlands wait for me, and for my arm they hope.
Lift up your eyes to the heavens, and look at the earth beneath; for the heavens will vanish like smoke, the earth will wear out like a garment, and they who dwell in it will die like gnats; but my salvation will be for ever, and my deliverance will never be ended.
"Hearken to me, you who know righteousness, the people in whose heart is my law; fear not the reproach of men, and be not dismayed at their revilings.
For the moth will eat them up like a garment, and the worm will eat them like wool; but my deliverance will be for ever, and my salvation to all generations." (Isaiah 51:2-8)

* It is silly to imagine that the founding fathers would have had any patience with the argument that what is worshipping God to one person is, to another, a woman's right to choose and that the latter must take precedent. The founding fathers were steeped in Natural Law: any woman who sought to kill her own child would have been considered, at best, mad, at worst, possessed.

Making A Name for Oneself

When he encounters death, Gilgamesh, the tragic hero of the Epic of Gilgamesh, one of the oldest pieces of literature man has written, realizes there is only one thing to do, make a name for himself while he is here on earth. So the great Sumerian king builds cities and monuments so that even though he will die, he will not be forgotten. This idea of making a name for oneself is one of those things that accompanies being human; when human history begins, we are concerned, even consumed with this desire to continue even after death.

In Genesis this human desire is addressed in a profoundly different way: Abraham is convinced he will have no heir since Sarah, his wife, is barren. But God promises that Sarah will, in fact, bear him a son, that Abraham's name will be known for all times, that he will be the father of a great nation, that they will be a light to all the nations. Here, for the first time, we see how God responds to the human desire to make a name for ourselves.

The House of Representatives passed the Pelosi-Reid healthcare bill this evening even though three Democrat congressional leaders said they could not guarantee the amendments to prevent funding abortions would be in the final bill on which the Senate will vote. They passed it even though it provides for "end of life care" (death panels) and governmental oversight of medical decisions and jail time for those who choose not to participate and the wholesale distribution of suffering and death. They passed it knowing it is bad law. They passed it knowing it is unconstitutional law. They passed it knowing it is illegal and wrong.

Many of our elected officials have promised to fundamentally change healthcare in the United States. They have promised to redistribute wealth by taking our money and giving it to others as an act of law, without our consent. They have promised to fundamentally change the United States itself. These people have promised to make names for themselves. Names that will outlast their deaths. Names that will go down in history and never be forgotten.

When we are baptized into the Body of Christ, the promise Isaiah speaks is fulfilled: God writes our names on the palms of His hands. We need no longer make names for ourselves. That job is done. In Christ, we are given a Name we cannot create for ourselves. We are called as Christ's own forever; we are given Christ's Name for our very own.

We must respond to the House of Representatives. This must not go unaddressed. But we must also stop to consider that many of those politicians who voted to harm us, to harm the sick and elderly, to slaughter infants in their mother's wombs and to use our money to pay for it all are Christians and all of them are children of God. They do not leave off being Christians because they refuse to follow Christ. They do not leave off being Christian because they choose to follow their own way. Baptism cannot be undone. But we can choose damnation.

And so we must look at this and remember, choosing damnation means that we do not see that our names written on the palms of God's hands. Choosing damnation means we are left alone, desperately trying to make names for ourselves. We either accept the Name of Christ or we erect filthy monuments on the backs of slaves and infants and the weak. One may look back and say, I made that. But the monuments we construct to ourselves are ugly and destructive.

Please, please, please pray that those who voted for this bill that they know will cause great harm will hear that God is calling them by name; pray that they will repent. Pray for this nation, pray for those who are frenetically embroiled in trying to make names for themselves. And pray for those who seek to follow Christ, to accept the Name that is above every name. Pray that we will be faithful and will endure until the end.

40 Days for Freedom: A Post I'd Rather Not Write

I have no photos of my mother. She died when I was so young. I survived with my life, with the clothes on my back - alone, abandoned, left in God's care. And God has done well. God has done very well. I might be a bitter, cruel woman intent on exacting revenge on a world that stole so much from me. Instead I am happy, joyous, full of life and wonder and gratitude. I know God loves me. I know people love me. I know my parents' faith was not in vain; my legacy is Christ Himself and He has been, is, will always be everything they wanted for me and so much more.

But sometimes, especially since my health has declined, I miss them. I miss them so much. I miss Marmar in particular. There are days I just barely drag myself through and I wish she was here with me. There are nights, such as tonight, when I can't sleep and I long for her presence. Several years ago, a friend gave me a Madonna and Child medal that I wore on a silver chain about my neck. When I felt nervous or lonely, I fingered it. Sometimes friends would glance over at me and see it balanced on my nose - I don't know why I'd do that, I just did. It comforted me and actually did remind me of my mother. I no longer have that medal.


Yesterday I went to D.C. After the rally, we were invited to stop by our representative's offices and I wanted to pay a visit to Nancy Pelosi. Many others did as well and I found myself straggling along behind several new friends. As I walked, I felt I wanted to give her something and wished I had brought a Miraculous Medal for her. Then I remembered the medal around my neck. At first I was appalled to think of giving it to her. But then I knew, she really needs a mother far more than I do. So I decided if I got in and if there was an opportunity, I'd give it to her.

We weren't allowed to just go into the Speaker's office. We were told to keep against the right wall and wait; she wasn't accepting visitors. Some said they wanted us to go away but we had come to visit her and weren't leaving. When told we could leave notes for the Speaker on a table, we began to write. I asked one of the many armed guards if I might leave the speaker a gift? I showed them my medal and asked if she would get it. They were hesitant. My new friends said she wouldn't appreciate it. But I asked, does she need it? They replied, Yes. Yes, she did need it. I wrote my note and waited.

Finally they allowed us to go into the office four at a time and sign the guestbook. When it was my turn, I asked the young man behind the desk if I the Speaker would receive the medal. He said he'd take it and pass it on. His demeanor was one of disdain, distance. Someone said the staff hadn't been prepared for this and I quite believed it just looking at that young man's closed demeanor. I took off my medal, handed it to him and told him about losing my mother and being given the medal as a reminder but that I thought Speaker Pelosi needed a mother more than I did. I asked him to tell her about it.

She does need it. She so badly needs it. I miss my medal, it's abscence is a searing pain. But neither Marmar's nor Our Blessed Mother's love are in that medal. I miss only an accustomed reminder. But what does Nancy Pelosi miss? How hard her heart must be?

I keep thinking and having the impression that she doesn't care, that she no longer values her soul. I keep having the impression that the thing to do is let her and those like her go the way they've chosen; to leave them to God's mercy and give my energy to those who simply don't know what to do in this bizarro world version of the United States.

Fasting means going without. It's been pretty easy for me to go without that chocolate as long as I don't think about it. It is not so easy to forget my medal; I feel exposed. But if that's what it takes to become the kind of person who does her part to care for the immense gift God has given me as a citizen of the United States, then I'll fast from my medal.

And I remain a hopeful beast: I'll hope God uses it to touch some person's life. Our Mother is exceedingly capable and the Sacred Heart is on the back of the medal so it's just chock full of reminders, of powerful blasts of God's love. And the Holy Father blessed it when he came to New York so there's even more powerful goodness waiting to call someone, maybe many someones back to life.

"Lord God, have mercy on what you have fashioned, have mercy on the children of men, have mercy on you own image." from the Apocalypse of Paul (4th Century)

Help Draw the Line: No Tax $ for Abortions!

United States Conference of Catholic Bishops
3211 FOURTH STREET NE  WASHINGTON DC 20017-1194  202-541-3100  FAX 202-541-3166

USCCB NATIONWIDE BULLETIN INSERT
Tell Congress: Remove Abortion Funding & Mandates from Needed Health Care Reform
Congress is preparing to debate health care reform legislation on the House and Senate floors.
Genuine health care reform should protect the life and dignity of all people from the moment of
conception until natural death. The U.S. bishops’ conference has concluded that all committeeapproved
bills are seriously deficient on the issues of abortion and conscience, and do not provide
adequate access to health care for immigrants and the poor. The bills will have to change or the
bishops have pledged to oppose them.
Our nation is at a crossroads. Policies adopted in health care reform will have an impact for good or
ill for years to come. None of the bills retains longstanding current policies against abortion funding
or abortion coverage mandates, and none fully protects conscience rights in health care.
As the U.S. bishops’ letter of October 8 states:
“No one should be required to pay for or participate in abortion. It is essential that the
legislation clearly apply to this new program longstanding and widely supported federal
restrictions on abortion funding and mandates, and protections for rights of conscience.
No current bill meets this test…. If acceptable language in these areas cannot be found,
we will have to oppose the health care bill vigorously.”
For the full text of this letter and more information on proposed legislation and the bishops’ advocacy
for authentic health care reform, visit: www.usccb.org/healthcare.
Congressional leaders are attempting to put together final bills for floor consideration. Please contact
your Representative and Senators today and urge them to fix these bills with the pro-life amendments
noted below. Otherwise much needed health care reform will have to be opposed. Health care reform
should be about saving lives, not destroying them.
ACTION: Contact Members through e-mail, phone calls or FAX letters.
 To send a pre-written, instant e-mail to Congress go to www.usccb.org/action.
 Call the U.S. Capitol switchboard at: 202-224-3121, or call your Members’ local offices.
 Full contact info can be found on Members’ web sites at House of Reprsentaties & senate
MESSAGE to SENATE:
“During floor debate on the health care reform bill, please support an amendment to
incorporate longstanding policies against abortion funding and in favor of conscience rights.
If these serious concerns are not addressed, the final bill should be opposed.”
MESSAGE to HOUSE:
“Please support the Stupak Amendment that addresses essential pro-life concerns on abortion
funding and conscience rights in the health care reform bill. Help ensure that the Rule for the
bill allows a vote on this amendment. If these serious concerns are not addressed, the final bill
should be opposed.”
WHEN: Both House and Senate are preparing for floor votes now. Act today! Thank you!

Day Six of 40 Days for Freedom - More Questions

Henry asks, "How can we who claim to love Christ not love what He loves?" That's my question too. And, like any five year-old, I have more questions:

Is it coincidence that so many groups of people came to this country to worship God freely? Is it a coincidence that Maryland was founded by Catholics who wanted to worship God freely? Is it a coincidence that Rhode Island and Pennsylvania and Massachucetts and New Jersey - in fact the original thirteen colonies were settled as "plantations of religion" or "holy experiments" or by entrpreneurs who worked to promote the prosperity of the church? Was the Holy Spirit doing something? Was God perhaps bringing His children together for some purpose? And if so, as their heirs, have we any responsibilities today?

Perhaps I should just ask the obvious question: does Christ love our nation?* And if so, are we required to love what He loves?

In this video, Rep. Foxx speaks of reasons for us to be afraid. I'm not suggesting we should be afraid of anything except the damnation of our souls. I do ask, does this matter to us as Christians? Does it matter in terms of loving what Christ loves?



* This question is not asking, does Christ only love our nation and no other? Nor is it suggesting that if Christ loves our nation then we never commit sins or make mistakes or foul things up. It's simply asking if Christ loves our nation.

** I'm off to DC because Pelosi's HC bill is more than a tax hike. It's a means to distribute death and suffering amongst us all. Pray for me. I'll keep you all in my prayers.

A Query for Day Five of Forty Days for Freedom

I have a serious query: How can we hope to love the City of God if we don't love and cherish this city, where God has placed us now? Is it even necessary to love and cherish this city? Is loving and cherishing this city incompatible with longing for the City of God?

I'd love any answers, reflections, thoughts, ideas on this. There is the question Jesus asks, if we are not faithful in small matters how can we be faithful in large? Is that applicable?

Thanks for pondering this question with me.

PS - I'm heading down to DC tomorrow to join Thursday's peaceful protest against the Pelosi HC "reform" bill. Please pray for me, particularly since it's been a rough two weeks: searching for a new roommate and not feeling at all well. But I think, if I can make it, I must.

More Joy In Heaven Over One Repentant Sinner...

...so let us rejoice here on earth too!

Consider This - Seriously

Day Three of 40 Days for Freedom

It has been a long day Three of 40 Days for Freedom, much of it quite lovely though exhausting, and I'm squeaking in just under the wire. I'm making this post because it speaks to why 40 Days for Freedom is so important. What actually does happen if people just walk away? What if people say, No, I will not participate any longer? What if we close ourselves off from each other?

When I think of the work we are asking God to prepare us for, that is it. That we will say Yes! That we will continue to engage and hope and struggle through these difficult times, these times that so many find so dark. We know, wherever our Lord is, darkness is not dark to him, the night is as bright as rhe day. The question is, will we share that fact with those who don't know? With those who are growing more and more despondent?