I do not hate you

I feel I must say this, or suffer the consequences in some form, whether it be an ulcer or the regret of being silent when I should not be.

Being a Catholic, Conservative, and (usually) Republican in Philadelphia is not a comfortable thing. But being maligned, misrepresented, and (to give benefit of the doubt where applicable), misunderstood, has been tough. I have lost some dear friends. Now, I am not whining, because I understand that to do one's best to follow Christ is to at times incur all of those things. But as the Presidential campaign heats up, and the verbal bombs are lobbed from one camp to another, I want to say a few things.

Bashing the Catholics and conservatives has become a pop culture badge of honor. It's so hip to slap labels on us. Depending on their origin, it goes from unintelligent,  "shiny objects" (DWS), to, racists, bigots, greedy wealth-hoarders, or war mongers. And don't forget hate-filled.

While I could very easily counter every one of those un-thought out labels, what I mainly want to clarify is this.

 I am your fellow human being.  

I may not agree with you on everything.

 I may not completely understand you.  

    But I do not hate you.

The political movers and shakers, mainly on the left, have found a few buzz words that are very effective and have plied them freely via every media vehicle available. It was so effective that even some people, in 2008, who identified themselves as Catholics or conservatives or what have you, suddenly felt that not to vote for Barack Obama was to embody all those labels, especially the H word.

I think that to fundamentally disagree with someone should not mean giving up your voice entirely in favor of dodging the difficult discussions. 

Sadly, some real hateful speech flies pretty freely in our direction. It is accepted and  popular now. I could, again, name names and specifics, but I am choosing not to go there right now. It's all a matter of record.

Disagreement     ≠        Hate

 


I have the responsibility to speak the truth at all times, with humility, and in love. As I had to explain to one of my daughters the other day, truly loving someone means NEVER lying to them to smooth things over. ALL my kids know that I love them to the ends of the earth and back again. For example, I will not lie and say that unmarried cohabitation is really okay. I will share my own heartbreak and failures at having tried that. But I will keep right on loving them if they make that choice. I will love their boyfriends/girlfriends. I will take them shopping, laugh, cry, joke, and be here for them.  There is no hate in the equation.

There is fear that some choices can lead in a direction that could possibly drag them ultimately to hell. I will work at living, loving, and praying them away from that end. I lay awake last night praying this:

Listen, I am not the author of Truth or the Universe. I am bound to love and serve the Savior who loves and saved me.  But He loved and died for the whole world. He does not hate anyone.

There are many, many great people, some great thinkers of history, who have died for love of Christ. I submit to any that would brush off all believers with easy, lazy reasoning, to do some objective research. Read the Early Church Fathers, who lived with Jesus or those that knew Him. Pray and ask God to help you really understand. Don't be so immersed in the pop culture, make-it-up-as-they-go-along, media icons. Don't do what we are so oft accused of -- following blindly. Think and reason for yourself, and let Him reveal Himself to you.

Demonizing people of faith, as frail and flawed as we may be, is no way to go about moving "forward" in this country.

I will support Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan because I believe they will do better for ALL of us. Do I endorse every single thing they promote? No! And I will take every opportunity to communicate that, if hopefully, they win the election. 

I will not apologize for my beliefs. But if you, dear reader, believe that I would hate you for yours, you would be wrong.  I have lived and experienced the following verse.

"For this reason I say to you, her sins, which are many, have been forgiven, for she loved much; but he who is forgiven little, loves little."  

Luke 7:47 

God Bless you~

+JMJ+

Kelly

We are Here, We are Here, We are Here!

 Our country is descending into tyranny.


There are two elements that stand out.

1. The spiritual.
The day Barack Obama was elected, I said to my husband that I believe now all Christian believers' faith is going to be tested. One choice is to go along, get along, and compromise ourselves into something that cannot be recognized as Christian. Some are doing that. Catholics for Choice comes to mind here. The other is to become firmly rooted. To learn, know and live out our faith, and if things keep going in a direction pointed directly in opposition to God and to freedom and liberty, then believers will stand out in more and more relief against the backdrop. Our call to be salt and light will be the rubber hitting the road. I didn't really want to be right about that, but in the wake of yesterday's Supreme Court ruling, I feel it all the more, times ten. We will be sifted like wheat, believers. We will either cling to God and His way, or we will not.

2. The Natural.

For all people of faith, and for all others that want to live in a free America , we must get out of bed, literally and figuratively. Wake up and see that America as we have known her is slipping away.  We have to fight for ourselves and for our children and grandchildren. We have to be an example of fortitude. And above all -- because this is the only way we can make our voice heard -- on Tuesday, November 6, we ALL get up and go vote. Every last one of us. The media would have us believe we are a small, fanatical segment of the population, like one of the *Whos in Whoville,  too small to be heard. We are not, in reality, that small, but the principle applies. To every  *JoJo out there -- if we all speak on November 6, it will be a resounding WE ARE HERE!, shouted to this administration. We must encourage every single person that their vote matters. I live in a city that is heavily democratic. But I know that my vote still matters! I live in a city where Black Panthers stood in front of a polling place with billy clubs to intimidate those that would not be likely to vote for Barack Obama. So guess what folks--that means OUR votes are worth suppressing. (a little aside -- those Black Panthers got off scot- free because a certain attorney general did not think it necessary to prosecute them.) (oh, and in my city, dems are boiling mad that people will have to show a valid ID to vote. Speaks volumes.)

You get the point.  Vote. And get everyone you know to do the same.

 *references, to those not familiar, are from Horton Hears a Who, a very prophetic story, full of spiritual truths.

the rest of the analogy is also quite apropos-

 "Rot, rot, rot rot! It's a plot, plot, plot, plot!
We’re the Wickersham Brothers. We're on to your plot.
Pretending to talk to Whos who are not.
It's a deep dyed evil political plot.
Pretending your talking to Whos who are not.

We’re the Wickersham Brothers. We’re vigilant spotters.
Hotshot spotters of rotters and plotters.
And we’re going to save our sons and our daughters -from you.
You’re a dastardly, gastardly, shnastardly schnook,
and you’re trying to brainwash our brains -with this gobbledygook!

(spoken) We know what you’re up to, pal.
You’re trying to shatter our morale.
You’re trying to stir up discontent...
(sung) And seize the reins of government.

You’re trying to throw sand in our eyes;
You're trying to kill free enterprise;
And raise the cost of figs and dates;
and wreck our compound interest rates.
And shut our schools, and steal our jewels,
And even change our football rules;
Take away our garden tools,
and lock us up in ves-ti-bules!
...But for-tu-nate-ly, we're no fools.

We’re the Wickersham brothers. We know your type!
And we're putting a stop to this trickulous tripe
We’re the Wickersham brothers; we're squashing your plot.
There'll be no more talking to Whos... who are not!

There'll be no more talking to Whos who are not!
There'll be no more talking to Whos who are not!
There'll be no more talking to Whos...
-no more talking to Whos... who are not!"

waiting....waiting...

This is shaping up to be one of those Wait-and-See-What-Happens days. Not my favorite kinds of days. One daughter is having troubling physical symptoms, but didn't want to miss school, so I am calling around, trying to feel it out and get a game plan.Which results in waiting for doc offices to call back. Familiar with that tune?  This makes it kind of hard to do some of my routine but necessary things, like run the vacuum (something, that in a time of stress, is surprisingly soothing), go to the market, or even just focus on anything else well.

I have never been very good at waiting. I like forward motion. The Bible is all full of waiting verses--sheesh. Guess it is one of those growth producing things--what are they called? Oh yes, Virtues. Wait! hmmmmm.

Patience....Virtue.

riiiiight.










With a large dollop of trust thrown in.



Well, it did enable me to sit here and write this, and peruse the blogospere, and post to facebook, and do some laundry, and heat up one of last night's stuffed peppers for lunch...what am I complaining about? Well, it's just the worry-weight when one of the kids needs medical care, and all the figuring out what it is--hoping nothing too scary-- yada yada.

sigh.
Exhausting stuff.

Well, I may not have gained patience this time(that I can tell), but the pepper was good the next day.

those two days after Friday. you may know them as the "weekend"

 I am not able to sit very long today, as I need to catch up from the whirlwind weekend. I have found that there are times when the idea of the weekend does not hold the same thrill as it once did.  TGIM is more the right speed. This one was kind of a blur, but as best I can remember, it started out on Friday, with my work shift, as always. I drive to my job at 4:00 every Friday, while the rest of the world is streaming out of workplace doors, wildly anticipating a few days of calling some time their own.  

 I worked until midnight, then tried to get up the next morning and tackle the day's activities. I should mention here that my husband always comes to pick me up from work, so he is up late too, but he seems to be able to get up no matter what. It is some genetic thing. I also used to have it; mine went away. Something else that expired was my ability to be ready to walk out the door in 45 minutes from the time my feet hit the floor. I was kind of proud of that, so I guess I just answered my own question...
  We had breakfast, ran an errand,  attended a wedding mass, ran some more errands, took an hours' crash-nap ( a staple of my existence), made and ate dinner, then spent the evening with my mother in law for her birthday. There was cake. 

 Sunday; mass, breakfast, Columbus Day Parade in which two of the kids were marching. This involved lots of walking, and for the record my feet were not recovered from Friday's work shift, so...some pain. But lots of pride for my kids. Even if the band as a whole was not in it's finest hour, it didn't stop the formation of the  Parental Lump in the Throat Syndrome.

 Then, home and getting a birthday dinner and small family party ready for our youngest. It featured  birthday pie (her choice), churros, (also her choice) a kazoo band, and lots of silliness. It was fun. Exhausting fun.

So, Monday found me with some nice memories, sore  feet, thankfulness for my family, and a lot of leftover cake. The pie went.

                                                                   ~next day~

  It has taken me until Tuesday just to get this finished and posted. That alone speaks of the weekend recovery time I require. I also am still in my pj's, and it is just about time for Malaika to appear for lunch.

I do have a few things I want to write about soon, of course the promised story of how I met and married Bob; but also something I have been chewing on for some time, and that is the problem of hating "the world" in the biblical sense, but loving the people in it. I usually cringe when I hear the "hate the sin, love the sinner" phrase bandied about. Not because it is wrong, but because it is put out there with about as much effort as pushing a button or waving a wand. We who live in the world and do love "the people" as a whole, often are faced with specific people, that we in fact already love, who are, in fact, in disordered lifestyles or situations. What does our love for them, then look like? If you are reading this and have some ideas feel free to share! Please, pretty please, though, stay away from platitudes or phrases as the one I mentioned above, at least if it is without a more in depth explanation. I have been meaning to order and read "Reaching the Left from the Right", by Barbara Curtis, well known blogger of Mommy Life (featured on my blog roll).  I do have some thoughts already on the subject, but I will wait until I can do a thorough treatment.

As I was writing this, a funny smell wafted through the house. Now, I am used to this, because I live with six kids; I live in a row home, which affords us up close and personal  access to other peoples sounds and smells. This one was kind of like a cooking smell, again, not too unusual. I mentioned above that Malaika comes home for lunch...well, when I finally decided to go to the back door (via the kitchen) to see where the increasingly burning-like smell was coming from, I remembered. I had put on some eggs to hard boil--oh about an hour ago or so, then gotten into this posting again (amongst other stuff), and forgotten. Just as I approached the pot to turn it off.....POP...one of the eggs exploded. 

                                                                                                          

Suffice it to say that I now have two exhaust fans going, a steaming pot of rock hard eggs on my back patio (I can still see the smoke going rising past my window), and, no doubt, my neighbors are all wondering where the funny smell is coming from.