Stay Out of Dark Corners

Still Alive in December!

The other day I visited a friend who is staying a spell in an assisted living unit. I looked at my friend’s lovely face – so glad to see her. She is younger than I am – but her body is not cooperating with her heart’s desire to be active, enjoying her husband and children – taking in all the good things that Dallas offers, and contributing her talents to helping others.

Her mother, adjusting to her own limitations, came by to say hello – and it was a lovely, bittersweet moment – a tiny peek into how two brave women are supporting each other in ways they could never have imagined – sadness illuminating sweetness – the most tender gesture unable to soothe what MS and age wrecks.

Life doesn't always follow the script we might write – but wise women won’t let its orneriness back us into dark scary corners – that’s what my friend and her mom showed me.   

·      Oh, my friend, it's not what they take away from you that counts. It's what you do with what you have left. ~Hubert Humphrey

·      If you have nothing to be grateful for check your pulse. ~Author Unknown

·      Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy. Psalm 126:5

·      Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief. (Mark 9:24)

Finishing Up the Life of Moses

Well, everything is spiffed up and ready for action on both porches – but the dip in the temperature makes sitting outside in the shady porch in the early hours a wee bit too much. So, I finished reading about Moses, completing Deuteronomy inside the house.   Temperatures were so bracing this morning – May 1 – we needed a shot of heat! Thus I am not enjoying all my handiwork.

Inside study, means looking at all the work that needs doing – and it easily distracts me.

So, for the moment, I’ll look back to Moses’ life – overlooking the housework and morning news of war, superbugs, wicked weather -- rain and floods, and remember what Moses taught me.

Deuteronomy 34:7

Listen closely. Choose carefully. (Deuteronomy 30:14-20) And remember the song. (Deuteronomy 32)  We each go our own way, way too often, to our ruin and heartache.  

Don’t disobey God because things aren’t working out the way I hoped they would. (Deuteronomy 32: 50-52) 

Believe that God has a better plan for the folks I care about – and bless them with the hope that is God. (Deuteronomy 33:1-25) 

Don’t ever be ashamed of that plan. (Deuteronomy 33:26-29)

Remember the song and keep climbing.

Living with Thorns

 

Thorns in my Garden

An unscratchable itch is one way to describe eczema, which is an irritated or inflamed skin condition. Over the past year or so, it has been a new normal for me* – teaching me lessons about dependency, embarrassment and compassion, reminding me even annoying little afflictions can help me understand bigger truths

Eczema can hurt like an unexpected thrust of a thorn; pruning roses, I know what it feels like when my hand brushes against the formidable thorns on the old rose bushes in our yard.  Its pain can be a real handicap! So, when Paul said,   “I have been given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations.”  I can now better imagine his frustration.  (2 Corinthians 12:6-10)

Granted, on a scale of handicaps, mine barely qualifies for the least of them, but when the eczema flares, all kinds of simple chores and pleasures become more complicated because my stupid fingers hurt or bleed all over the place.  And the itch is unsettling in the rapidity with which it robs me of charm.

Ugh! 

I have learned eczema is not uncommon, and it affects children more frequently than adults -- I really feel for little ones who can’t understand how to cope with the spiky itching that is a hallmark of this thing!

The exact cause of eczema is unknown, but it's thought to be linked to an overactive response by the body's immune system to an irritant. It is this response that causes the symptoms of eczema. (See WebMD – my go-to source for freaking myself out!)

So, what is irritating me?

Too much chili or barbecue? Too many tacos? Surely not!  

Or, maybe, this irritant is invisible: fear, worry, and resentments, or fatigue?

Because we aren’t certain of its causes, we have no foolproof cures. This year – when I screwed up the courage to mention my hands, folks, even younger than I, told me they struggle with crackly, dry, painful skin. Moreover, everybody has a recommendation for a lotion, ointment, or tonic, including superglue!  Some suggestions work well, others -- not so much.  

The relief comes and goes. Suddenly, tiny cracks or itchy blisters may re-appear, sending small shock waves of itchy pain. Interestingly, I can see those cracks are along the line where I formerly cut or burned my fingers or thumb or palm  – it’s as if the healing has been superficial, and beneath layers of skin, damage persists – a reminder that being past something doesn’t mean being over it. 

My faith teaches that God has separated me from my sins as far as east is from west. (Psalm 103:11-12) But I can recall details of what was buried -- which can be equally disabling and discomforting. The longer my walk with Christ, the sharper my memory seems, too!   When the memory of my meanness -- in all the nuances of that word – breaks out, precious little relieves the awful spiritual itch.  

 

The heart has its reasons, which reason does not know. We feel it in a thousand things. ~Blaise Pascal

I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart:  I am, I am, I am.  ~Sylvia Plath

Crackly skin may just qualify as another thorn, one that time and again drives me to distraction, or discipline and prayer. Like the unexpected tear on my fingers or thumb need cleansing and care, my heart does too.  I need consider cleansing and talk candidly to God like David did. (Psalm 51) Or, maybe I need comfort, balm, which only God can offer, and also the literal help of sleeping well and eating healthy stuff. (1 Kings 19)

·      The healthy and strong individual is the one who asks for help when he needs it.  Whether he's got an abscess on his knee or in his soul.  ~Rona Barrett

·      Lord, help me not to despise or oppose what I do not understand.  ~William Penn

*(Amateur Diagnosis)

A Book Review

A Jane Austen Devotional

Although one reviewer called this book pabulum, I say pabulum is a good and necessary source of nutrients for folks at certain ages and stages. Approaching a second run at childhood, I welcome an opportunity to reacquaint myself with characters, their times, and setting, and their conduct -- descriptions that have engaged so many readers for so long.

Its author, Stephanie Woolsey, connects basic living truths in good literature to the Truth by which Christians live. It may displease some readers, but it pleases me for a couple of reasons:

*            The topics in the Table of Contents  -- maybe 100 in all – are the hot buttons with which we struggle, in and out of the church, such as:

·      Evaluating Your Focus 

·      Stirring Up Trouble

·      Developing Self-Control 

·      Letting Go of Worry

·      Justifying Compromise

·      The Art of Good Timing 

·      An Honorable Legacy

*            The compiler first allows the reader a refreshing reminder of Jane Austen’s words, showing  character matters; so do good manners, and healthy thoughts. Then, she offers an easily digestible commentary on the scene or characters so beloved by Miss Austen’s readers. Ms. Woolsey finally anchors her view to a line from Scripture. 

The volume may be as unfussy as a dish of pabulum.  For those of us those who might like an easy way to digest harsh reminders of how silly we can be, and how noble a few are, though, this volume is a good tonic.

Christians who write will enjoy seeing how Jane Austen’s characters and stories edify and entertain without preachy prose.  In Ms. Woolsey’s words:

Jane did her readers a great service when she used the gift that God gave her to touch the world with her writing and wisdom. May each of us do the same with our own talents.

You might like: Jane Austen: Everything Old is New Again

Limitations on Choice

So, in preparation for the motor trip that wasn’t, I collected eleven audio books from the local library: mysteries, histories and biographies – and J. K. Rowling’s The Casual Vacancy. Three days driving each way: well, we would have a variety from which to choose, even if we didn’t go through all of them.

Choice is a valuable exercise – enjoying what we would prefer exercises our minds, and refreshes us. And it is often as rare as it is delightful.  Therefore, on last Friday afternoon at the doctor’s office, we were startled how suddenly we lost the choice to travel by car – airplane, or any other conveyance. We were not simply delaying our departure, when we learned that the antibiotics we hoped would clear up Doug’s cough would be administered by trained medical personnel, as into the hospital he was quickly admitted.

Now I know a more precise connotation of blindsided.

But, the blessing of having lost our choice about how and where we would be spending our weekend, is we were given the gift of doctors, nurses, aides – in clean and comfortable surroundings, and care that has been good. Most of the world does not enjoy this limitation.  (See Sodo Hospital. )   

The window in Doug’s room has been similarly a sharp reminder not to whine about what we “lost” this weekend, for it looks out on the helicopter pad at Baylor hospital’s expanding campus. He and I can see the folks who may have been as surprised as we were to be in a hospital, and some with more complicated problems than ours.   

One good thing is that we have many good books to engage our imaginations during Doug’s recovery.

Look at everything as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time.  ~Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Voices

Usually it is my voice I think I hear reminding me of the next thing I should be doing, or chiding me for forgetting a task. Sometimes though I hear myself remembering times past, and wishing I had done things differently. Regret is a more regular companion nowadays, changing the conversations in my head. 

Regret is a gentler attendant than another conversation changer in my head – resentment.  Resentment revives old hurts and excuses me, while blaming and accusing others. Regret also revives memories – but differently. Regret helps me own my part in a hard conversation, or a painful experience. Resentment enumerates wrongs, real and imagined. Regret keeps me off my high horse. Regret urges me to confess and repent, and to repair what I can now, first to God, and then with the people I can.

Regret tells me of hidden treasures in moments I thought would come again – or never end, and reminds me to recognize these riches happening all around me now.  Others heard and wisely counseled listening to regret, and shutting off resentment:  

·      Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.  Carrie Fisher

·      A true repentance shuns the evil itself, more than the external suffering or the shame. Shakespeare

·      A man should never be ashamed to own that he has been in the wrong, which is but saying, in other words, that he is wiser today than yesterday. Jonathan Swift

·      If you have sinned, do not lie down without repentance; for the want of repentance after one has sinned makes the heart yet harder and harder.  -- John Bunyan

·      The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone. Harriet Beecher Stowe

 “Don’t let the darkness talk to [me].” Ed Welch  

The Word for the Day: DREY . . .

Which means squirrel’s nest.

For years, I thought of squirrel’s nest as a euphemism for a messy, disorganized room, sloppy thinking or an untidy hair-do. But no, some squirrels built their homes high up and stuff them with twigs, leaves, pine needles, or grass, and line them with shredded grasses, fresh leaves, moss, and lichens are used to line the inside of the nest. I never saw one until recently – when I looked up from my desk, and saw the oak tree across the street silhouetted against a winters’ sunny sky.

The tree across the street now is completely bare – and I can clearly see a squirrel’s nest or two. They look precarious – too large for the supporting branches – and it seems as if they could crash to the ground with the slightest provocation. We’ve had several days of extra breezy weather – enough so as I wonder how that drey stays put, and I wonder if there are little critters inside it, how they are managing.   For now, I can see plainly, what will be hidden in the coming weeks as green haze deepens into an enormous verdant canopy. 

Some days I feel like those squirrels’ nests look – precariously resting on limbs that may not support me – and completely exposed. 

Perhaps this is a gentle reminder to keep editing how much I hang out in cyberspace. My sister-in-law’s gentle observation of the various flowerpots dotting our garden’s perimeter has become a mantra: you need to edit the pots.  Too much of even a good thing is still too much.

Or, these precarious feelings may bubble forth from all the joys of maturity continuing as they present themselves: stumbling, bumping into things and sometimes falling can really wreck a girl’s confidence; losing words; forgetting names. Too many examples are still too much.

·      In a [woman's] middle years there is scarcely a part of the body [she] would hesitate to turn over to the proper authorities.  ~E.B. White

These feelings when intertwined with memories, resentments, fears, disappointments and guilt can be like those squirrels’ nest I see; they need editing – and deleting – as surely as the embarrassment of mangy looking flower pots dominating our garden.

·      You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hope, as old as your despair.  ~Douglas MacArthur

To that end, I heard some good old advice recently at a meeting: Don’t believe everything you think.  Or, just because I think something is so doesn’t make it so. A timely reminder not to lean on my own understanding to prop myself up. What I think may be as wobbly a support as those bare branches appear to be! (Proverbs 3:5-12)

Fear can be the stiffest breeze blowing through my branches – Hope is the red marker I am using to edit my thoughts – as well as gratitude.  Looking up, the squirrels’ nests are holding in the current winds blowing through Dallas. Looking around the garden, I have edited the number of pots – just in time for spring planting.

·      There is always a lot to be thankful for, if you take the time to look. For example, I'm sitting here thinking how nice it is that wrinkles don't hurt.  ~Author Unknown

Skipping Around with Solomon

 

This morning, Friday, as I enjoyed the blessing of quiet sun and coffee I turned to Ecclesiastes 5.  Solomon’s words express some of my worries -- regrets, frustration and fear. And yet, they give me a way through these uncertain days:

 . . .  So let your words be few. Too much activity gives you restless dreams; too many words make you a fool.

. . . It is better to say nothing than to make a promise and not keep it. Don’t let your mouth make you sin. And don’t defend yourself by telling the Temple messenger that the promise you made was a mistake.

. . . Talk is cheap, like daydreams and other useless activities. Fear God instead.

. . . Those who love money will never have enough.

^. . . . Money is put into risky investments that turn sour, and everything is lost. In the end, there is nothing left to pass on to one’s children.   

. . . Even so, I have noticed one thing, at least, that is good. It is good for people to eat, drink, and enjoy their work under the sun during the short life God has given them, and to accept their lot in life.  And it is a good thing to receive wealth from God and the good health to enjoy it. To enjoy your work and accept your lot in life—this is indeed a gift from God. God keeps such people so busy enjoying life that they take no time to brood over the past.

  

On Monday, we attended a celebration of one woman’s life – a long time friend of Doug’s family, who lived to ninety and nine years. Affectionately known as “Tib,” Elizabeth Woodward Jones, accepted and enjoyed the life God gave her; she stayed busy caring for herself and those in her charge. Her granddaughter read Ecclesiastes 3:1-11, a familiar passage to most people – but broke down, perhaps because the reality of her loss weighed heavy. In all the times of which Solomon described, the companionship of loved ones makes bearable much that is unbearable – and delightful the times of pleasure.

The good memories of others whose presence has changed me are not more valuable than the memories of the pain they caused.  Even the worries and wonders [can] have a point: They are all aids, which got me to where I am today – refiners -- to make me a better traveling companion, God willing.    

Solomon on Saturday Morning

Saturday morning, and as I review this past week’s journal – what choices have I made this week will make a difference? Solomon would say none.  

History merely repeats itself. It has all been done before. Nothing under the sun is truly new. Sometimes people say, “Here is something new!” But actually, it is old; nothing is ever truly new. We don’t remember what happened in the past, and in future generations, no one will remember what we are doing now. (Ecclesiastes 1:9-11)

Again, a week has zipped by; many days were much the same as the previous ones. Worries and wonders both sounded familiar – my routine, the same. The awareness intensifies that I am less than a speck – and so are most celebrities of our time.  My trepidation of the day when I can’t worry and wonder – when I can’t do what I please – when no one will remember me – grows.

Solomon says that God deals out our lot – and no matter what is wrong, it cannot be righted.  Working hard to be wise is like chasing the wind; all the wisdom in the world can’t dodge death, concluded Solomon. (Ecclesiastes 1:16-18) And the pursuit of pleasure is as much a dead-end as the pursuit of wisdom and doing good.

Lest the reader – or I – sink into depression: Ecclesiastes is man’s view of life; even though the guy is a smart, loaded and sophisticated, it is just man’s opinion, and Ecclesiastes is not the only book in the Bible. If it were, it might be the Bible for agnostics or even nihilists. 

Solomon – the author – wrote at the end of his life.  Autumn light, though slanted, can be as revelatory as spring sunlight – depending on where we shine it.  In today’s paper, an opinion writer reminded some memories are engraved on other pages, than those of historians.

A pediatrician told a young mother, under pressure from her all knowing mother-in-law: 

“. . . [N]ature retires a woman from parenting just when she has gotten the hang of it. . . . Bottom line: Leave the parenting to the parents. You get the fun part – grandparenting!

. . . Be more than just a name that fills a line on their genealogy chart. Be a loving memory engraved forever in their heart.” (Katie Butler Johnson, Dallas Morning News, May 12, 2012)

Fortunately, God inspired other writers to record history, poetry, and prophecy that give a framework and purpose to one preacher’s words. (John 20:31) Christ has given me life, settling me, a barren woman, as the happy mother of children – and grandchildren. (Psalm 113:9 )

Maybe Solomon needed to spend more time with his kids’ kids? 

An Opportunity Blown

 

The recent dust-up over who should pay the cost of contraceptives helped slam shut an opportunity to explore an increasing and damaging price of sex outside of marriage – sexually transmitted diseases,  (STDs or STIs); none are prevented by birth control. Rush Limbaugh could have directed his audience and those who do not listen to some troubling facts. But he couldn’t resist some smart remarks about a young woman who wanted the US government to pay for her birth control; they were hard to hear, even for long-time listeners. The radio talk show host apologized, admitting he blew it. Therefore, the timing of an e-mail* from Peacemaker Ministry seemed fitting. Here’s what Ken Sande wrote about reckless words:

Oh, Be Careful Little Mouth

"Even a fool is thought wise…and discerning if he holds his tongue."
 Proverbs 17:28

Reckless words, spoken hastily and without thinking, inflame many conflicts. "Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing" (Prov. 12:18; cf. Prov. 13:3; 17:28; 21:23; 29:20). Although we may seldom set out deliberately to hurt others with our words, sometimes we do not make much of an effort not to hurt others. We simply say what comes to mind without thinking about the consequences. In the process, we may hurt and offend others, which only aggravates conflict. . . . (emphasis added)

Tragically, women do die because of unplanned pregnancies – more babies, however, die from these unintentional conceptions. What is appalling, and still unaddressed, is that approximately 19 million new sexually transmitted infections are thought to occur each year.  

These infections affect men and women of all backgrounds and economic levels. But almost half of new infections are among young people ages 15 to 24. Women are also severely affected by STIs. They have more frequent and more serious health problems from STIs than men. African-American women have especially high rates of infection. (source)

A powerful entertainer and social commentator made reckless comments and we missed an opportunity to begin a worthwhile discussion on a serious public health issue, again – and all because of someone’s exercising their right to speak plainly.   So, what we remember is rude remarks – and the firestorm that erupted – not solutions to the damaging personal, medical, and social problems that erupt from sex with a multitude of partners.

The lesson I learned from Mr. Limbaugh’s catastrophic lapse of good sense and common decency, and from Mr. Sande’s apt reminder is opening my mouth without engaging my brain and heart loses listeners.  Even reckless speech may be my right – but that constitutional freedom  is an opportunity that thoughtless words will destroy.

Peacemaker ministry’s e-mail redirected my disappointment over a missed opportunity to reconsider how I say what I say: 

What have you said recently without thinking?



The word "reckless" usually conjures up images of someone driving a car with no concern for the people around them. A reckless driver can cause havoc on the highway, putting his or her life, as well as the lives of others, in harm's way. If we spot someone driving recklessly, we usually grab our cell phones and alert the police. But what about someone speaking recklessly?



Simply saying what comes to mind can be looked upon as being authentic and honest. People admire the plain-speak quality and often promote folks who can do it. But it can also be looked upon as not thinking, or reckless. The lives of the one speaking and those hearing then are caught in harm's way. And if you're caught in harm's way, the result is usually some kind of harm.

Oh, be careful little mouth what you say.

A wise woman, when she opens her mouth, the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. (Prov. 31:26) * PeaceMeal is a publication of Peacemaker^® Ministries. Copyright 2012. Reprinted with permission. To sign up for this free weekly email publication, go to the Peacemaker Ministries website at www.Peacemaker.net/epubs.

Teaching and Then Applying All Those Principles

I am sitting at our host and hostess’ breakfast table, looking through the bay window – enjoying a view of dark green cherry laurels against taller bare gray-brown tree branches. A squirrel’s nest is evident in one of the trees. The morning is cloudy  -- but – a sliver of blue sky intermittently breaks through, reminding me that today may well be all the weather forecasters predicted – sunny and unseasonably warm for the Washington area this first day of February.

This time last week, in Dallas, I was finishing up a talk for the ladies’ Bible study on 1 Samuel 27-31   – four grim chapters – with only one verse that helped: David strengthened himself in the Lord. (1 Samuel 30:6) That preparation was an Ebenezer. Just as the peace and serenity, I am enjoying now is a reminder how far God leads and provides. (1 Samuel 7:12)  

Fear for his life almost derailed David in those chapters; fear for all he would lose did drive Saul to insanity and his death.  Little did I imagine how studying two kings’ response to fear could have so much personal application so quickly.  Fear  -- arriving with all kinds baggage – was a relentless intruder.  

Our son’s son hit a rough patch coming into this world and has spent several days in NICU.  That little guy is quite a fighter – but his mom and dad must cheer him on only from the sidelines – and we, his two sets of grandparents, are even more powerless to help him. Watching all this from the sidelines of this battle highlights nuances of a word I thought I knew – powerless.

Whatever the dictionary definition, powerless does not begin to express the absence of control, strength or usefulness any of us felt when we got the news from his parents.  I know that being powerless is more than surrendering my life to a power greater than me. Admitting my powerless means that not only am I unplugged from my silly self – rule but I am willing to stay that way. (Psalm 131) Powerless is not a synonym for passive; to rest in God, is hard work, especially when fear hisses “What if . . .” Or, when she bullies, describing all my weaknesses and failures.  

It was hard for David to trust God, after ten years on the run from Saul.  And 1 Samuel 27 showed the cost of seeking counsel only from himself.  I had a few talks to myself this week. Many ideas have seemed sensible to me these past few days – but none were worth repeating or acting upon. How could I fight this for my son, or his wife? How could I do anything to restore his son to health?  But I sure dreamed up a bunch of wild, ridiculous scenarios! 

Trusting  my life – and all the lives of those I love – over to the care of God as I understand Him restores serenity and protects my sanity.  I understand my God to be David’s God – who gave him strength in battles, literal, and personal – and had mercy on his failures.  Strengthening myself in God is more a turn of phrase – it is the one choice I can make when nothing I do will change anything. 

The last thing I prayed with the ladies on Thursday was that the promises we have in Christ, and the hope of our salvation would be more real to us than any evil we would face after we left Bible study. On Saturday, I learned some applications, and thus far, the Lord has led me. Our son and his wife were facing a terrible ordeal – but God has given them great medical care. He stirred up watchmen who are praying faithfully, and whose love and concern are almost tangible. Day by day, they and we have hope, therefore, that our grandson, their first-born, will be restored.  And here is my hymn  in this night: If Thou But Suffer God to Guide Thee.

A Mother’s Advice Remembered: Never talk about religion or politics.

But she liked arguing about the candidates, leaders and issues of her times – from the McCarthy hearings to impeachment trial of Mr. Clinton. She was a C-span junkie, and had she lived, she might have been an avid blogger.  She and my father taught me to read newspapers, Time, Life, and THINK, (IBM’s magazine). At dinner we often listed to Edward R Murrow, Patrick Swayze, and Eric Sevareid; later, we transferred our meals to trays, watching David Brinkley and Chet Huntley – and of course Walter Cronkite. So, when she spoke, held forth, she was well armed and passionate!

She rarely discussed religion privately or publicly.  

Shortly before she died in 1996, I asked her if things were as bad in her day as they were now – abortions, child murders, violence in marriage, cheating, embezzlements, fraud – Rwanda, Kosovo . . . Watching too much news, I was despairing. Coming through WWII, she’d known about the kinds of horrors that happened in Uganda, Rwanda and Kosovo, and she said that everybody knew somebody who beat their wives or kids – or who had had an abortion – or had stolen company funds. The difference to her was nobody back then was proud of it.

The unspoken restraint in her generation was “Nice people don’t talk about _________.”  Such reticence may have made for more civil discourse, but it forced many soul sores to fester.

My generation felt obliged to let it all hang out – giving rise to the current warning: TMI! TMI! (Too much information!)      

Television – network and cable – serves up a cornucopia of stuff – that makes alternative lifestyles as well known as Ozzie & Harriet were to my generation. Nothing is bleeped on cable TV; the Supreme Court is hearing arguments on regular television’s right to provide everything that traffic will allow. (Information on Supreme Court Hearing)  

But the networks are pushing the envelope:  On Modern Family, the adorable toddler   will use an expletive, “the bomb,” on a smash hit TV series – the audience will not hear it, but will see her saying it.  (See article)  The child actors on the series and the children who watch it may learn a good lesson on not repeating everything they hear – but they will also learn the power profanity has in getting laughs.

The series has won kudos for its realistic but amusing presentation of family life in 21^st century America – primarily for the warm and accepting presentation of   a multiplicity of marriage styles, from traditional to same-sex marriage.  The characters are 3-dimensional, funny, and engaging; the writing on the episodes was excellent. 

 

A spoonful of sugar really does make the medicine go down.

When I realized I was laughing about stuff I know breaks God’s heart, and enjoying watching the folks who were caught up in it, I decided to go off the meds – the inoculation was working too well. 

Believing today that marriage is between a man and a woman because God said so may be evidence of a phobia. Believing in chastity before and after marriage may be evidence of a delusion. Believing the church can rise above sexual temptations, and make a difference in this culture may also be a stretch of rational thinking. 

The topic of what’s fair game for family hour TV series might not be any quieter a dialogue if I brought up a discussion of Modern Family  at the dinner table than the ones my mom used to ignite when she didn’t follow her own advice. But I am glad for the opportunity to write about what I think – and if you read this to the end, dear reader, thank you. 

"Elucidate, when one can, rather than advocate." Eric Serareid. 

 Using Ovens as Dishwashers

*Photo:    BOB D'AMICO/ABC