What's Discouraging About These Statements?

I pose this Question Du Jour, at the risk of being a crank [although this minor concern has never stopped me before]. 

Well, first, I will establish the contexts.  

• None of these statements originated with me
• All belong to the "public domain", by which I mean, none was communicated individually or specifically to me, and all are intended for general consumption
• The sources of all three statements represent themselves as speaking from a Christian Perspective which, as should be obvious and is underscored by this post, is an increasingly large and vaguely defined intellectual landscape

Here they are:

1- "A prayer is a wish turned heavenward";  this was observed about an hour ago, on a church "marquee" as I drove through town.

2- "And while I still loved God and followed him, the thrill was gone." This is a statement from a current online article posted on a website aimed at Christian women.  To be fair, the writer does go on to make a helpful observation or two, but the hook and tag line of this copy, summed up in the above quote, gave me pause.

3- "We take the Bible seriously, not literally"; observed on the back of a public transportation system bus, i.e. paid advertising for a local church.

OK, then.  

I do not sit in judgment on the originators of these statements.  I am neither assigned nor equipped for that task, which is reserved for Christ Himself. But Christ-followers are to know Christ and make Him known; if this is no longer the case, I missed the memo.

I can only conclude that we have woefully lost sight of the priority to think Biblically, and the importance of distinguishing between Biblical thinking and worldly thinking.  As has been noted many times before, words mean something.

1- When did a prayer become a "wish"? Prayer is talking to God.  Maybe my interpretation is too narrow, but I associate a wish with a hopeful, if not necessarily serious, roll of the cosmic dice. And, by the way, there aren't any cosmic dice.  Not there.  Jiminy Cricket musically enjoined Pinocchio to "wish upon a star".  A star is not a person and does not communicate with humans...not even the stars set in pavement on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.  And the entertainment celebrities whose names appear on those stars are no more able to make "wishes" come true than they can ensure themselves Emmys or Oscars.

And what's going on "heavenward" that would cause one to turn his wishes in that direction?  Get real.  Heaven is where God is, and the eternal place from whence Jesus came to earth, to which He has returned, and from whence He will come again.  It's inhabited. By Someone who doesn't traffic in "wishes." He inexplicably desires authentic relationship with us and has  paid an incomprehensible price to make that possible.  Equating wishes with conversation between us and our Creator, Redeemer, and Counselor is misleading and disrespectful at best, and actually much more sinister.

2- I have a long, long, long way to go in my intimacy, obedience, and surrender to God.  But I find it confusing and unhelpful to read that a self-identified ministry leader has found, while following God [her words], that "the thrill is gone."  We must not be referring to the same "God."  Meaning no disrespect to B.B. King's classic ballad, it don't think the thrill can really be gone when it comes to relating with the God of the universe....not if we're clearly keeping in mind Who He is, and who we are.  

I'm not peevishly parsing words here...I'm pointing out that, over and over again, we seem to begin from the wrong side of the relational equation.  Too many of us begin and end with ourselves.  I’m not sensing the “thrill” anymore, so what gives?  I suggest that it’s a simple matter of losing sight of Who we’re talking about.  Get our eyes off of ourselves.  God sits enthroned above the circle of the earth [Isaiah 40:22].  This same passage in Isaiah likens us to "grasshoppers" from God's perspective...but He calls us His friends [John 15:15]...what's not thrilling about that?

3- And finally, we may find ourselves in traffic behind a bus with the provocative but wholly unhelpful claim that the Bible should be taken “seriously” but not “literally.” Again, whose lead are we following here?  On what basis does a church find it is their prerogative to decide what to do with the revealed Word of God?  Take careful note that this view diverges from that of Jesus, Whose references to the Law and the Prophets were unalloyed by doubt or skepticism.  Viewing the Bible as anything other than, not to mention less than, Christ does is treacherous terrain that leads to no good destination.  

We are accountable for the spiritual light we are given; those who choose to turn away from or not receive spiritual light, and yet purport to be a source of it anyway, are blind guides and speak without knowledge.

There’s no smorgasbord of spiritual truth.  There’s just one, full-strength, pure, unadulterated, and unspeakably expensive choice.  Menus that suggest otherwise are evil fiction.

The Definition You've Been Waiting For...

...courtesy of John Daniel Holliday, 15, and self-styled expert on the opposite sex:

"Girls are just a great big bowl of confusion!!!"

So, now you know.

You read it here first!!

Reprinted from The SPICE  Feb. 2013, First Evangelical Free Church

THE REAL THING

by Kathy Holliday

Heart-shaped candy boxes are making their annual appearance.  “Love” is in the air.  Portrayed as the virtual champagne of life, the world’s version of love bubbles and sparkles enticingly, suggesting effortless fulfillment. But frothy, fizzy emotion lacks staying power: often it quickly goes flat, and the effervescence is replaced by crushed hopes and scarring emotional pain.  Prime time television is cluttered with “reality” shows featuring bachelors and bachelorettes who evaluate bevies of candidates who  each hope to be chosen as “the one.” 

This isn’t Love; it’s a carefully manipulated set-up exploiting our intrinsic need for love, while at the same time allowing viewers to be virtual voyeurs .  Let’s be honest; the real motive behind these “love pursuits” is advertising income. 

Real love is fundamentally different. It is indivisible from God Himself.

A nugget of truth shared by an Adult Sunday School teacher applies here: “The fallen world we live in is upside-down. If the world is pointing one way, you can be sure that God’s Truth is the opposite.”

And an additional pearl of wisdom, gleaned in another Sunday School class, [lesson: pay attention in class!]  true love -in whatever relational context- is “an unconditional commitment to an imperfect person.” 

We all are imperfect, born with a fatal flaw that can only be remedied by a love beyond our capability, a profound and costly love.  The Lord’s agape love is other-centered, a love “in spite of” the beloved’s shortcomings. It’s love that never fails [I Cor. 13:8] and never runs out because its source is God, and “God is Love,” [1 John 4:8].

Any who doubt need only look at the cost He willingly paid to redeem us and the undeniable life change in those who have been transformed and thus able to extend the same agape love to others.

Message in the Fence

A familiar twinkle glinted in his eye and the corners of his mouth couldn't stay down if they wanted to...the Ladies' Man had Stepped Off the Curb, and her answer was in the affirmative! Yes, the LM's first foray into the treacherous terrain of Homecoming is just around the corner...

Back in my day, the options for social interaction were much more limited: telephone, telegram if you really wanted to leave an impression, pen to paper via the US Postal Service, and--if all other options were exhausted--one could suck it up and approach someone face to face.  With that last option, there were full points for courage, but, seriously, how prosaic!!

No such worries in this brave new world of abbreviated, envelope-pushing, instantaneous social discourse. Why talk when you can text? No need to worry whether your auditor has halitosis. And you avoid all that pesky eye contact.

Alternatively, one can resort to Facebook and trust that your private message doesn't "somehow" get broadcast all over cyberspace.  In a pinch, one can ever delve back into ancient history and use the "human telephone line."  Admittedly, this tends to lead to message distortion, not to mention all sorts of unintended and unforeseen drama.

NEWS FLASH! The essential element du jour for the confident cavalier is Creativity. Who knew?

Hopelessly Backward Parents:  You did what?!?

Ladies' Man: What? Homecoming's coming  up...you can't wait too long, ya know.

HBPs: So, what does that mean?

LM: What?  I'm cool with it.

Fount-of-Information Sister: Johnny's going on a date. Can't you tell?

HBP: What?!

LM: *grin* - *glint*

Mom: Who did you ask?

LM: Just a girl I know ...

Dad: What's her name?

LM: Brooke.

Mom: What about *Girl From Last Week*?

LM: Huh? *shrug*

Dad: When did you ask this Brooke?

LM: Today.

Mom: Wait, wait, wait...you went up and asked a girl today to go to Homecoming with you...

LM: Uh, ye-ahhhh!

Dad: Wow...

Mom: Were you nervous? I mean did you man up and just go right up to her?

LM: *quizzical, sympathetic glance*.  Of course not.  You have to go for creativity these days.

Hmmmmmm...so what did you do?

LM: I got all these cups  and stuck them in the fence links.

Wow, that must have taken a lot of cups...

LM: Not really; I just spelled out "Will U?"

*Glint*

Highly recommended reading: well worth your time, and not that long!

http://www.nationalreview.com/corner/290393/president-prophet-obama-s-unusual-encounter-eric-metaxas-mark-joseph

Provoked to Rant

Bonjour-

It is not often that I am provoked to actual ire by a piece of automatically generated "robo-mail"...but such was the case recently.  To put this in perspective I received --in the same mail delivery--another piece of robo-mail of undeniably more unsavory content...a reminder from my friendly, neighborhood gastroenterology center that, with the advent of my last birthday, I was also due for Colonoscopy #2.  I did not click my heels in glee when I read this and recalled my first experience at this "interesting" health facility.  But, these mortal tents we live in down here degrade over time, and this quite-intrusive procedure serves a purpose.

But what caused my blood pressure to shoot upward was the following missive, received from my insurance intruder...I mean, provider.

I quote:

"Dear KATHLEEN HOLLIDAY,

I have reviewed the request to cover *MEDICINE YOU NEED*.  I am pleased to inform you that I have approved your doctor's request for this medication.  This authorization is effective from 08/16/2012 through 08/16/2013.

If you have any questions regarding this request or the proper use of this drug, please contact your doctor.

If you have any questions about your pharmacy benefits coverage, please call the Customer Service number on your CIGNA ID card.

Sincerely,

*Intrusive Pharmo-Crat*, PharmD
Manager, Pharmacy Service Center"

Frankly, gentle readers, there is far too much objectionable presumption in the above content to comment upon sanely; however, I found myself so livid that I could decompress only by venting via a letter which I will mail to *Dr. -Crat* as soon as I can decide whether I should bother sending it certified mail or not.

For those interested, below I append my letter of complaint:

23 August 2012

Dear Mr. Imperato,

This afternoon I received a form letter over your signature telling me that you are “pleased to inform” me that you have approved –for one year--my physician’s request for the medication that she has prescribed for me.  The practical implication of your letter is that I will receive the medication that was prescribed for me some weeks ago, which I appreciate. 

In point of fact, when my husband and I enrolled for a CIGNA benefit program through his employer, it did not occur to us that the benefits to be provided were conditional.

I am aware of the ongoing, spiraling costs of medical care and medication that have plagued the US for several decades.  I am also aware of the sizeable contribution deducted from our salary that pays for our CIGNA coverage, including prescription benefits.  Although I do not find it convenient, I am content to use the mail-order pharmacy service mandated by CIGNA to fill maintenance medication prescriptions.

However, it is no happy realization for me that the current state of insurance-controlled health care benefit programs,  specifically CIGNA’s prescription plan, has devolved to the point that an insurance pharmacy manager apparently wields the prerogative to grant or deny a bona fide prescription request for a patient covered by an employer-sponsored benefit plan.   

Mr. Imperato, I am offended by this policy. 

No doubt, the development of this practice by CIGNA is not the sole responsibility of any one individual, but as you are the manager from whose jurisdiction this letter was sent, I am directing my feedback to you.  I am taking the time to do so because I choose to believe that there is good faith in the many assurances given by CIGNA that the health concerns of your member patients are your priority concern. 

However, my current experience has been the opposite.  Not only is it the case that various drugs are classified into “Step 1,2,and 3” categories with associated variations in accessibility; it is now apparent that, beyond processing and shipping valid prescription requests for member patients, CIGNA sees fit to encroach upon doctor-patient relationships.  Under what auspices or presumptions has this come about?

 I do not need or desire, nor do I think it appropriate, for CIGNA to do any more or less than what was contracted for when I enrolled in the benefit plan to which I refer.  My objections to CIGNA’s  quality of service include (1)the erecting of virtual obstacles to the fulfillment of promised benefits; and (2) requiring my personal physician to spend undue time and attention justifying and “pre-authorizing”  the very prescriptions which she has already ordered for me on the basis of her medical expertise, experience, and  intimate knowledge of my personal medical history. 

Beyond this, apparently CIGNA considers it within its purview to provide a “health advocate” service, the purpose of which, in my experience, is unrelated to the prompt and professional processing of prescriptions.

Just yesterday afternoon, I received a third unsolicited, automated call from CIGNA offering to enroll me in a program that would link me with a “health advocate” to help “answer any questions [I] might have” and to provide guidance in developing and pursing my personal health goals.  Ironically, when I asked the question of most importance to me, namely, whether my prescription would be filled as written, the well-meaning health advocate could not help me.  She seemed unfamiliar with the Step1,2, and 3 drug categories outlined in CIGNA patient literature and was only able to transfer me to a CIGNA pharmacist, who also could not answer my question.  I assume this is because my order was still awaiting an approval decision from you.

I do not need or desire any further interruptions or obstacles to my health care.  I am fortunate to have excellent medical professionals to evaluate and treat me. What I seem to lack is a simple, straightforward program by which to have my prescribed medications provided. 

Can you help me with this, Mr. Imperato?

Finally, it is apparent that the policies and practices referenced above potentially place CIGNA at cross-purposes with its own expressed goals of excellent patient care.  Some of the escalating costs which managed health care ostensibly was developed to control seem to be exacerbated by the policies I have experienced and detailed above. In my own physician’s office, an additional employee had to be added to process the many pre-authorizations  required by CIGNA and other insurance benefit providers.  Clearly, this does not reduce costs.

Mr. Imperato, it is my sincere hope that you will give thought and attention to the concerns I have described, particularly  those related to the ways in which health insurance policies  intrude upon and diminish doctor-patient relationships. Please consider this letter as feedback from a veteran client who is dissatisfied with the pharmacy service  you provide.

 In light of your pharmacy service's many claims to excellence and concern for client heath concerns,  I look forward to your reply at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely,

Kathleen K. Holliday

Why I Don't Live at the P.O.

[with apologies to Eudora Welty, author of “Why I Live at the P.O.”]

To begin with, I consider myself a staunch supporter of the U.S. Constitution, including all of the various and sundry responsibilities and areas of purview that it ascribes as specifically governmental concerns. 

To wit, “Article 1,Section 8, Clause 7 of the United States Constitution, known as the Postal Clause or the Postal Power, empowers Congress "To establish Post Offices and post Roads… with the implied authority to carry, deliver, and regulate the mails of the United States as a whole.”

And so it was, armed with an earnest and wholesome belief in the authority and commitment of the United States Post Office to fulfill its Constitutional duty that I set off on my most recent misadventure.

As these things tend to do, another family milestone had crept up on me recently and I found myself in need of postal services.  Our oldest daughter was to be graduated from high school, and the pertinent announcements, mailing lists, and open house invitations were arrayed before me on the dining room table.

Too late did I realize that in my zeal to complete this task, I had neglected to ensure that all necessary components would fit in the same size envelope.  Thus, I had already purchased announcements, just printed photo open house invitations, and had no envelopes that would accommodate both. Cowed at the possibility of having to pay first class postage to mail all pieces separately,I turned to my trusty personal accountant and husband for counsel.

 “Just take them to the post office and have them metered.  Then you’ll be sure you don’t have to pay any more than you have to.” 

With these syllables of wisdom resonating in my ears, I set forth with my bulging tote bags of mail and a gleam of hope in my eyes.

Patiently, I queued up in the Loves Park Post Office lobby.  After a not unreasonable interval, I was summoned to the counter.

“How can I help you today?” asked the smiling postal clerk.

“Well, I have some mail I’d like to have metered, please.”

The friendly brow contracted slightly in mystification.

“Metered?”

“Um, yes.  Metered.  You know, like how you run pieces of mail through a postage meter instead of sticking a stamp on each one?  You meter mail for people…”, I trailed off.

“Oh, no we don’t do that,” with a brief head shake and slightly bemused look.

“Seriously?”

“Nope. I mean, yes, seriously, we don’t meter mail here.”

I glanced from Friendly Eyes to the adjacent clerk, Kenny.

Now, Kenny and I are old, if not formal, acquaintances.  I’ve had a few skirmishes with Kenny over the years, but it’s always been civil, if not strictly logical.

For my edification, Kenny chimed in. “We don’t do meters here.”

“But, this is a post office, and I’m trying to mail my mail.”

“Oh, you can still do that here!”  Thanks, Kenny.

Back to Friendly Eyes.  “It’s just that we don’t meter mail HERE.  If we metered mail here, the line would go all the way out the door and into the parking lot.” Hmmm, wouldn’t want to work you guys too hard…

Kenny chimed in again.  “Nope, can’t do the meter here. But you could go somewhere else, like, say Adams Letter Service, they’d do it for ya.”  Adams Letter Service is easily 25 to 30 minutes away, and gasoline in these parts is running  $3.59/gallon on a good day.

“But then, they’d a likely tack on a service charge,” he added helpfully.

Friendly Eyes corroborated this by nodding. Nonplussed, I began my futile, and apparently fictional, protest that the Post Office was here to serve me.

“I’d say the quickest thing to do would be to get stamps for all of these,” Friendly Eyes concluded, slapping my invitations and announcements on the postal scale.  “Yup, they each qualify as single-first class.”

 “Hmm, let’s see, we have several forever stamps now…did you say this was for a party?”

Chiming Kenny added, “We have those Celebrate stamps. Would you like those, Miss? How many do you need?”

Um, about 90, I guess.

“Uh, don’t have that many…Kenny you got any of those stamps with the balloons?”

Quicker than you can shed a tear of frustration, Kenny slapped open his battered binder of current postage stamps and was retrieving “Celebrate” stamp sheets.

After reluctantly handing Friendly Eyes my credit card, I proceeded to take out small stacks of envelopes and, despite now  lacking anything close to a celebratory attitude,affix stamps to each.

“Ma’am would you mind stepping over there so others can get to the counter?” Kenny raised his turbulent eyebrows at me.

I glanced back at the completely empty mail lobby, loaded up my tote bags, stamps, purse, and seething frustration, and proceeded to the outer room.

About a quarter of an hour later, the last of the envelopes had been duly stamped, and I was trudging over to the “Stamped Mail” bin.  Mirthlessly, I eyed the adjacent bin, labeled “Metered Mail.”

But, the last laugh was theirs:  striding toward the exit, I spied this helpful US Postal Service sign:  “Helping Make Your Life Easier Is What We Do Best.”

Two Magic Words

When I was little, my parents admonished my sister and me over and over to use the magic words, “please” and “thank you.”  The lesson has stuck, and hopefully has been instilled in my own progeny…I see inconsistent evidence occasionally, and still verbally reinforce it.

But, I’d like to suggest that two other words are imbued with far greater power than these bywords of social convention and courtesy.  I suspect it is no coincidence that these words are more powerful because they are more costly to say, although certainly as simple: “I’m sorry.” 

If the first word adorable, wide-eyed tiny people learn to say is “NO!” [and it often is], close on its heels should be this acknowledgement of personal responsibility and remorse.  How many international incidents and domestic disputes could be quickly defused with this simple, surefire remedy?

I was reminded of this recently when someone near and dear to my heart began the day with an unexpected and uncalled for verbal salvo.  Its stinging shrapnel seemed to hang in the air a moment before the speaker departed, leaving his words to drift down like unseen ash.  Caught unaware and unprotected, the two of us in the target range could only look at each other.

The whole day dragged on as I tried to buffet away my hurt and consequent anger. Letting it “in one ear and out the other” has always been easier said than done for me.

Because relating to this person has been painful for so long, it was easy for me to make this incident a “tipping point.” As injured parties, we want to retaliate, and we want to have impact. My hurt feelings seethed on the back burner all day.

So it was a surprise, in the late afternoon, to see this familiar face linger a moment before emerging from his car with an apology on his lips -- direct, intentional, immediate, and unexpected.  The buttoned up, long suffering reserve I had adopted as my mode of protection seemed to melt away in my surprise.  Tipping point? What tipping point?  I had forgotten how powerful those two words could be.

One incident-specific “I’m sorry” doesn’t undo a backlog of old pain.  

But it’s a start.

Overheard in Cecilyville

"Ack!!! I can't decide if Davy is Mr. Scrooge or the Grinch!!! It's just too hard!"

Hmm, brings all my worries right into perspective!

But DNA is Innate...

Here, courtesy of National Public Radio this morning, is more evidence of just how insistent and persistent is mankind’s determination to “do what is right in their own eyes,” [Judges 21:25, NASB]; inconvenient biological facts to the contrary be damned!

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=147139093

“A small but growing number of teens and even younger children who think they were born the wrong sex are getting support from parents and from doctors who give them sex-changing treatments, according to reports in the medical journal Pediatrics.

“It's an issue that raises ethical questions, and some experts urge caution in treating children with puberty-blocking drugs and hormones…Switching gender roles and occasionally pretending to be the opposite sex is common in young children. But these kids are different. They feel certain they were born with the wrong bodies.

“Some are labeled with "gender identity disorder," a psychiatric diagnosis. But [Dr. Norman] Spack, [author of one of three reports published Monday and director of one of the nation's first gender identity medical clinics, at Children's Hospital Boston] is among doctors who think that's a misnomer. Emerging research suggests they may have brain differences more similar to the opposite sex.”

The broadcast report, originating in the link above, goes on to detail various aspects of the current debate about how soon to suppress the onset of biological puberty using hormone "therapy" and when to begin “reassignment” treatment to bring the child’s physical and psychic genders into alignment, [if such a concept does not strain the imagination too far.]

I have far more questions than answers on this curious but primal topic: why is this phenomenon apparently growing in numbers? how much of it is driven by what is now “possible” in terms of endocrinologic technology and/or changing mores about what constitutes gender? why is there growing acceptance of the concept that physical biology and psychological gender identity need not be linked?

Not only do I not have the answers to these questions, but I also think that as a society we are at a point where the very definition of words like “answer” and “truth” are being deconstructed to the point of meaninglessness. If you don’t like the pattern of your sweater, pull any thread until it unravels as far as you please.

However, there are two things I DO know: (1) no amount of tinkering will change the fact that every cell of a person’s body bears only one of the two possible genetic chromosome combinations: XX for female or XY for male. No other possibilities exist; and (2) tampering with the magnificent work of an infinitely superior intelligence never leads to greater fulfillment, joy, or meaning.

We can choose to be congruent or incongruent with what IS in an empirical world. But by attempting to deny or redefine what fundamentally is unalterable, we can succeed only in deforming ourselves.

Passing

Another one of my professors has died. The first time this happened, it was an unexpected "reality check". Now Dr. Garab is gone. I know this because today's mail brought the English Department Newsletter from my alma mater; it comes about four times a year.

My life now seems far away from those graduate school days of pressured study and long nights haunting the library. But that time in my life is part of who I am today-- for better, probably not for worse.

Eerily, I remember in vivid detail sitting as an apprehensive freshman in Dr. Garab's Composition and Literature class...I won't say how long ago. He was a curious little man with quick dark eyes, quirky jackets, and a pipe in the corner of his mouth which he seemed to have trouble keeping lit. He was the first, and probably only, man who I heard explain how much he enjoyed drinking tea with his wife out of a fine china cup. He also was one of the first who opened the world of literature to me, and that is a gift that doesn't expire.

I still recall my angst as I sat in my dorm room, in front of my new, chocolate brown Smith-Corona electric typewriter, praying for some insight and assistance in the face of my first essay on "The Great Gatsby". God was faithful, and the words flowed. It was one of the rare experiences of individual and unalloyed joy.

The following week I felt as if my face were a blinking red beacon as he read my essay aloud in class (fortunately without giving my name). It was an unexpected affirmation that served as a personal touchstone.

Dr. Garab was a lay pastor in the local Episcopal church, which made him an anomaly among professorial staff, and a weirdo among some students. He didn't trumpet this, but he didn't deny it, either. So, unlike the other half dozen or so former professors of mine whose obituaries I've read in recent years, Dr. Garab is one I expect to see again. I don't doubt that he is now in the presence of the One who is Truth.

Unlike so very many men and women of letters across the centuries who have been lauded for wrestling with and interpreting the great questions of human experience, he apprehended and bowed before Him about Whom Paul wrote, "He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together." [Colossians 1:17]

Too Horizontal

New entry for the "Novel Approaches to Unemployment" file:

No names will be given to protect the...horizontal...;however, this minor episode was A New One On Me. A particular young adult male in residence here has been unemployed for a couple of months. It is a tough economic and employment environment here, more so than in some areas of the country. To date, his attempts to secure employment have resulted in only one, unsuccessful interview. Curiously, because he has a smart phone, he has the luxury of trawling the internet and submitting various employment applications online...from the horizontal position in bed! And here was I, not so many years ago, actually wearing out shoe leather!!

From time to time, thoughtful friends of mine have forwarded job leads to me, to pass on to this unemployed relative of mine. Today was another example. This time, the lead was for an opportunity promising hard work, tough hours, and decent pay: a third-shift position at the nearby Chrysler assembly plant. Who knows if it's a long shot but at this point, it is folly to pass up any opportunities from my viewpoint.

So, after reading this e-mail, I went upstairs to address the Still-Horizontal [it is 2:43 pm, CST] Unemployed Resident to pass along this news.

"How do you know this, Mom?"

Well, because it was e-mailed to me, and still is on the screen if you want to run downstairs and take a look at it.

But, going vertical after so many hours of being horizontal, might be a challenge.

"Just e-mail it to me."

That way, there's no need to disturb the horizontal perspective, or exert any extra modicum of effort. Gack.

Beyond Understanding

File this under “Inexplicables, Gender-determined.”

It’s news to no one that this crazy, mixed up world we live in is careening faster and faster out of any comprehensible orbit. As William Butler Yeats [in “The Second Coming"] famously put it “the centre cannot hold”.

Indeed, how can anything hold when so little is anchored or anchorable these days? Since the focus of this evening’s rumination has to do with gender issues, I’ll start with this little plum from today’s cnn.com post: http://inamerica.blogs.cnn.com/2012/01/03/lgb-t-the-big-surprise/?hpt=hp_bn1; the article from which this excerpt was taken is entitled,
“LGB and T: The Big Surprise:

When Donna was a young man, back in high school, she was a wrestler. After a 30-year hiatus, she got back into the sport. She beat enough women half her age to place sixth in the last U.S. nationals.

As for the obvious questions - the International Olympic Committee has specific criteria for someone like Donna to qualify as a female athlete. She has met those guidelines. She has had the necessary surgeries. And she has been on hormone therapy for two years. She's a woman. And she’s determined to pin the competition.

Call it the LGBT community.

If you go to the link referenced above, Donna is the blonde in the pink dress—hard to miss.

So, here’s what I’m scratching my head about at the moment. Great effort, talent, toil, and tears are bent toward changing who we are from the surface ink of any tattoo du jour to the very criteria of what constitutes a person’s sexual identity.

And yet.

Can anyone seriously doubt the notion of ‘hard wiring’ when it comes to certain components of human gender? Sure, you can surgically excise or append, replumb, and change the hormone marinade. I’m not even taking issue with the fact that people do these things…it happens.

But juxtapose these cutting-edge [sorry] developments against the soundtrack of the latest first-person shooter game, and then tell me how much we’re able to change about ourselves.

What I’m talking about is familiar to generations of good hearted mothers who aren’t sure whether to be alarmed or complacent when their sons seem to emerge from the womb making automatic weapon noises. What the hay?!

With three sons now aged 22, 20 and 14, I’ve long since given up understanding the male fixation with warfare and annihilation. And I’m too tired to let it keep me awake. But the resiliency of the male –warfare link is staggering. I’m not ignoring the fact that many women have talents, passion, and records of military valor. It’s just that I don’t really know how to think about it all.

On the one hand, the appetite for the trappings of warfare seems insatiable. No doubt there is a biological imperative at work here to ensure that, in the bigger picture, a society is provided for and defended.

On the other hand, there is only so much mayhem and destruction any individual can absorb, and when that limit is met, handing around appears to be very hard to do.

One of the more discouraging stories I’ve read lately follows a young soldier in a Welsh Guardsman unit who completed a number of tours in Afghanistan and,against great odds, survived to return home. Despite psychiatric therapy to help him cope with the inevitable, debilitating Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder he suffered, he succumbed to suicide before the age of 30, leaving a mother, sibling, and baby daughter. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/debate/article-2081638/Lance-Sergeant-Dan-Collins-Afghanistan-hero-bear-horrors-war-longer.html

I used to point out such accounts to my gung-ho son as cautionary tales, but it doesn’t register with him. He’d rather tell me the specs of the latest iteration of a Kalashnikov rifle, as if I cared. Ever since I first gave birth, I’ve harbored a theory that armed conflict would be considerably less probable were it the prerogative of women: what could be more antithetical than living the profound journey that results in new life and then engaging in the death and destruction of war?

Yet I know that tomorrow, when homework is done and put away, there will emanate from the downstairs man cave of the young warriors in residence a barely tolerable impersonation of a snarling Russian warlord.

And I will stir the soup.

So Much More

“Stay tuned for our upcoming segment on ‘Getting to the Heart of Christmas’.” Thus chirped one of the carefully coiffed TV anchor/hostesses on a popular breakfast talk show this morning.

Of course, since this was a secular, network program, I had no illusions that anything remotely related to the “heart of Christmas” would ensue. The closest mainstream media ever chooses to get is using the word “Christmas,” and even then, it is doubtful that any passing thought is given to the derivation of the word. That, of course, is “Christ” and “mass,” two terms considered politically incorrect unless the second is used in the context of physics.

What followed was a story about families who had lost virtually all but their lives in a ravenous wildfire near Austin, Texas four months ago that apparently burned for 35 days. Featured were accounts of two families, one with four children whose belongings were literally reduced to cinders, including one young daughter’s favorite Barbie doll. The second story had to do, somewhat ironically, with one of the firefighters who had fought the blaze and yet also lost all but his wife, baby and a single photo album. Tragic stories, under any circumstances, but somehow especially so at Christmastime…which, of course, is about the celebration of families brought together as a seasonal tradition.

Or is it?

Cut to the next scene as a pleasant reporter, donning a Santa hat, recapped the story briefly with the two families before gleefully leading them through a warehouse door to a waiting crowd of festive WalMart employees standing amidst mounds of wrapped presents and glittering trees. The camera zoomed in on several astonished faces, as the reporter explained that what we were seeing was truly “the heart of Christmas.”

No mistake, it is truly heartening to see those who have suffered loss not only cared about but provided for. The camera panned and then zoomed in on the little girl who had lost her doll as the reporter guided her to a brand new Barbie doll, just for her. As a smile broke out and she pumped her small fist in delight, the reporter was clearly moved and declared “this is really the heart of Christmas!” And now back to you in the studio.

But…this is only part of the story, and a comparatively minor, mortal part at that. Whether they realize it or not, all people inhabit two worlds, one mortal and one eternal; and this story did not scratch the surface of the heart of Christmas.

What am I talking about?

Merely the fact that we are eternal beings, wrought in the image of God, and for whom mortal life is an important way station, but not the destination. Unpopular concept, that. But you have to reckon with it if you want to come anywhere near the real heart of Christmas.

Is this a time of year when extra focus is placed on acts of kindness and compassion? Without a doubt. But there’s a reason for this, and it is rooted in the historicity of Christmas.

Perhaps we need to look as far back as “A Charlie Brown Christmas” to find an example in popular media that told the truth about Christmas. Near the end of this animated classic, Linus Van Pelt volunteers to tell Charlie Brown what Christmas is all about by taking the stage in his shepherd garb and simply, matter-of-factly, reciting a passage from Luke 2. This little scene stands out in greater relief than ever now, not only because of its simple audacity in telling the truth, but also because we are hard pressed to find anything like it in the maelstrom that is today’s media.

Curiously, I don’t recall, either as a child first watching this, or as an adult, ever being aware of any rejection of this simple message. It was an interesting moment in a cartoon, easily passed over these days as a quaint, vintage footnote.

Ah, but there’s so much more for the seeker of truth. The heart of Christmas is not doing good deeds for strangers, no matter how heartwarming. Encouraging as these moments are they are byproducts several concepts removed from the bedrock reality that Christmas is, at heart, a rescue mission.

It is the historical account of the one, true God condescending to take on mortal flesh and leave eternity and enter time for the express purpose of testifying to the truth of sin and providing a path of redemption. Of course, grasping this transcendent fact does not lend itself to five minute video segments. Nor is it a mere heartwarming video vignette to get our day off to a nice start before we go about our usual business.

Getting to the heart of Christmas requires acknowledging and owning the uncomfortable truth of our imperfection and helplessness to help ourselves; and the devastating consequences that indubitably follow if that’s the end of our story.

The heart of Christmas is the incredible good news that we can have what we REALLY need and escape the judgment we deserve. Our destiny can be an eternal future with our Maker; and that is So Much More than a five minute feel-good story.

Knowing Now

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2074866/Christopher-Hitchens-dead-Writer-dies-aged-62.html

I've just read two stories [which seem to be identical, although credited to two different writers] announcing the death of Christopher Hitchens, a British born ex-patriot who made his home in the US and his career as a writer and pundit with a lacerating pen.

Although famous on many fronts, Mr. Hitchens is probably best known as a brilliant and caustic atheist who bravely, or perhaps foolishly--depending on your point of view--stared his own mortality in the face, refusing to capitulate in any way to the concept of faith. I saw a TV interview with him when his cancer was already quite advanced; when asked about his position on faith and the afterlife, he said he appreciated the sincere prayers of Christians who had told him they were praying for him, but he completely discounted the efficacy of prayer or even the existence of the God to whom these prayers were directed.

"There will be no death bed conversion," he declared, echoing the late Carl Sagan.
"If you hear accounts stating otherwise,do not credit them. They will not be true."

Apart form his undeniably great intellect and talent as a writer, I find it rather stunning to learn of someone so very exercised and vociferous about atheism and hatred for religion of all sorts. The story referenced in the link above is worth reading if only to see some of his more outrageously memorable quotes; here are a few,as they appear in today's London Daily Mail:

'A lying, thieving Albanian dwarf' - his description of Mother Teresa

'The Missionary Position' - the title of the book he wrote about her

'The Bible may, indeed does, contain a warrant for trafficking in humans, for ethnic cleansing, for slavery, for bride-price, and for indiscriminate massacre, but we are not bound by any of it because it was put together by crude, uncultured human mammals'

So there! If nothing else, he is an exemplar of untrammeled intellectual freedom. And perhaps, now that his spirit has departed the realm of mortality and passed into eternity, he better understands the Source of the freedom he enjoyed in life, and which he will never know again.

It's not often that someone dies and one can know, incontrovertibly, about his or her eternal destiny. But Christopher Hitchens would appear to be one of the exceptions. I say this with no satisfaction. As a Bible believer, I accept the truth and descriptions of the only two destinations we face as eternal beings. No one deserves to be in hell, an actual place, more than any other person who dies rejecting Christ. Some, like Hitchens, are just louder and more vociferous about their rebellion.

Having been told once by a therapist to "believe the behavior" of others while trying to understand them, I've found it curious to see just how adamant Mr. Hitchens was in his atheism. Any time someone devotes considerable energy and passion to promoting an idea, it's a sure bet they take it seriously. When the object of such passion is to DENY something, it seems axiomatic that they consider that object to be powerful and, possibly, threatening.

If it's simple nonsense, which he reportedly disdained, why bother with it at all? The obvious answer is, as he himself affirmed, that religion is an undeniable force in society, throughout human history, and geography. He found it troublesome in the extreme that so many have, allegedly, been so duped by so pervasive and pernicious a concept as religion, in all its forms. Thus, it apparently was a significant aim of his life to denounce it emphatically and often, not only in print but also in live debates.

A salient irony, is that his own brother, Peter Hitchens, is a professing Christian.

I find it nearly admirable, yet certainly sad, that a mortal human being can be so very sure that there is no supernatural or spiritual dimension to life at all. How does he know? Most likely, he would ask me just how do I claim to know.

But the certainty is that this is a singular and mutually exclusive case of truth claims. Both cannot be right.

Mr. Hitchens has stepped over the threshold, and now he knows for sure.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2074866/Christopher-Hitchens-dead-Writer-dies-aged-62.html#ixzz1gi0K2Ibd

Holiday Correspondence

Yesterday my e-mail inbox contained a cute 'elf' animated greeting from a friend. Today, this same inbox brings unhappy tidings, courtesty of OneMillionMoms.com.
Excerpt follows:

"Macy's has fired a Christian woman for refusing to violate her religious beliefs. Her offense? She prevented a man dressed as a woman from entering the women's dressing room.

According to Liberty Counsel, Natalie Johnson says she saw the young man walk out of the women's fitting room and politely told him that he could not go back in because it was for women only. The cross-dressing young man claimed that he is a "female." Johnson said that he was wearing make-up and girl's clothing, but clearly he was a male. The cross-dresser was accompanied by five other individuals.

The group argued with expletives that Macy's is LGBT-friendly, to which Johnson replied that Macy's is also non-discriminatory toward religion, and that it would go against her religious beliefs to lie that he was a woman or compromise with homosexuality. The group then demanded to speak with a manager.

Johnson's boss referred her to Macy's LGBT policy which allows "transgender" people to change in any dressing room they want.

The manager demanded that she comply with the LGBT policies or lose her job. Johnson refused to go against her sincerely held religious beliefs and was terminated from her job.

Macy's has essentially opened women's dressing rooms to every man. The LGBT agenda has become the theater of the absurd.

TAKE ACTION

Email Macy's President Terry Lundgren and urge him to immediately apologize to Natalie, reinstate her position with Macy's and put safeguards in place to protect women customers from men who would enter their dressing areas.

IMPORTANT! Personally call Macy's headquarters at 513-579-7000 and express your outrage at this injustice to female employees and customers.

Other numbers to call:

Jim Sluzewski, Senior Vice President, Corporate Communications - 513-579-7764
Macy's Media Relations - Julie Strider, 646-429-5213
Sincerely,

Monica Cole, Director
OneMillionMoms.com"

Having just spent a pleasant several hours with a friend at Macy's in the Chicago Loop on Sunday, this was not a welcome bulletin. I'm including the response I sent below, just to be "on the record", as we used to say back in J-school.


Dear President Lundgren:

This past Sunday I enjoyed a wonderful few hours shopping with a friend at your Chicago State Street Macy’s location, a site I had long enjoyed as a resident growing up in the northwest Chicago suburbs. I was one of many loyal shoppers, and a former Marshall Field’s Woodfield employee, who was saddened by the passing of the Field’s era, but who continues to happily shop Macy’s. In fact, I found some wonderful bargains this past Sunday at the downtown Macy’s. It was a great day.

Therefore, I was stunned and confused to receive an e-mail reporting that one of your employees has been fired for attempting to keep an allegedly transgendered male customer from re-entering the women’s fitting rooms. I include an excerpt of this account below:

“Macy's has fired a Christian woman for refusing to violate her religious beliefs. Her offense? She prevented a man dressed as a woman from entering the women's dressing room.

According to Liberty Counsel, Natalie Johnson says she saw the young man walk out of the women's fitting room and politely told him that he could not go back in because it was for women only. The cross-dressing young man claimed that he is a "female." Johnson said that he was wearing make-up and girl's clothing, but clearly he was a male. The cross-dresser was accompanied by five other individuals.
The group argued with expletives that Macy's is LGBT-friendly, to which Johnson replied that Macy's is also non-discriminatory toward religion, and that it would go against her religious beliefs to lie that he was a woman or compromise with homosexuality. The group then demanded to speak with a manager.

Johnson's boss referred her to Macy's LGBT policy which allows "transgender" people to change in any dressing room they want.”

The organization that forwarded this account included an e-mail template with which to communicate to you. However, this issue is important enough to me that I first wanted to ascertain directly from Macy’s whether this account is, in fact true; and, second, to take the trouble to communicate personally.

I sincerely hope that the reference to the Macy’s LGBT policy is inaccurate, but I count on you to give a truthful response. Should this report be true, I will be extremely disappointed, both by your treatment of your employee, Natalie Johnson, and by the direction of the relevant corporate policies that indicate Macy’s is forsaking the natural family customer base upon which Macy’s storied retail history has been built. If this is the ethos behind the Macy name, the ubiquitous red star logo, and the legendary Thanksgiving Day parade, I will be beyond disappointed.
Furthermore, I could not in good conscience continue to be a Macy’s customer and am willing to demonstrate this by mailing you my current Macy’s credit card, including the “Thanks for Sharing” sticker for the benefit program for which I just re-enrolled, to the address below:

Terry J. Lundgren, President
Macy's
7 West Seventh Street
Cincinnati, OH 45202

I have just called both your Primary Phone: 513-579-7000 primary phone number, where my call was not answered, as well as your media relations representative, Julie Strider, who also was not available and whose voice mailbox was too full to accept my message.

I look forward to your prompt response and trust that the report I referenced above is a misunderstanding or misrepresentation. If not, you will be receiving my credit card and losing my business as long as the corporate policy referenced herein exists.

Sincerely,
Kathleen Holliday

Kateye7hollidays@comcast.net
6537 Glen Abbey Drive
Loves Park, IL 61111

SNAPSHOT- TEN YEARS ON: 9-11-11

THEN:

I was at home, most likely in the kitchen of our previous house; we moved into this one in 2003. My older children were at school. The ages of all five on that date were 12, 10, 7, and 3, while the youngest was 10 months old. I was unaware that the world was changing until my husband called me from his office and told me, “I think we are under attack. Turn on the TV.”

Several minutes later, I was on the phone with a friend…we were both agape in our respective homes, monopolized by the real-time, raw footage playing before us on our TVs. I remember it was hard to think at all. Time seemed frozen. The kids were somewhere in the house, probably not far from me, but I wasn’t attending to them. Alina, now 17, remembers playing with her Madeline doll and not understanding why I didn’t seem to hear her.

“There’s goes the second tower,” I remember Susan saying on the phone. Sure enough, as if in suspended animation, the by-now-inevitable implosion played across the screen.

I remember being at work when the Challenger shuttle blew up in the late 1980s. I remember being sent home from school early in first grade when President Kennedy was shot dead. But this was a different order of magnitude.

NOW:

10:37 p.m.
My children are 22, 20, 17, 13, and 10. The oldest is out with a friend, the second is asleep in preparation for his 5am start time for work in the morning. The third is collecting her school work for the start of a new week tomorrow. The fourth and fifth are talking about what it must have been like 10 years ago, when she was 1 and he was 3, wondering why Mom was riveted to the TV screen. Last night, we were with my parents and 25 others, celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary. A decade earlier, we were at the same restaurant celebrating their 50th.

Tonight, my husband and I have lately returned from a cookout with an adult growth group from our church. Minutes ago, I finished grading Cecily’s Easy Grammar homework and entered her weekly average score on her Grade Logue.

This morning I was at church, listening as a man on the platform read out the speech that had been given by President George W. Bush in the aftermath 10 years ago. The image of the American flag, and various images from 9-11-01 were projected on the walls, succeeded some minutes later by the hymn and praise chorus lyrics we sing Sunday by Sunday. The principles expounded in the sermon that followed were true 10 years ago and are true today. They will always be true because they are transcendent and timeless.

But our collective consciousness is irretrievably altered, and in a way without precedent.

MEDIA SNIPPETS:

• I was impressed by the immensity of the new 9-11 memorial waterfall captured in broadcast and internet coverage. President and Mrs. Obama, and former President and Mrs. Bush looked tiny in comparison.

• With some surprise, I listened and watched President Obama read Psalm 46 at the remembrance ceremony at the Pentagon this morning. That was part of this morning’s reality. Less than a year ago, and probably again next week, there will be renewed babble about the (im)propriety of building a Muslim “community center” several hundred feet from Ground Zero.

• I was actually awed as I listened to Vice President Biden speak about the losses suffered, and the smelted resolve of Americans as a result of the 9-11 attacks. Rarely have I seen or heard a message, on any topic, put across with so much passion, power, eloquence, and strength under control. It changed my opinion of him.

• It was unexpected to me to see shots from around the world showing people of other nations paying tribute to the losses suffered by the US that day. I remember one photo caption described how a fire brigade from Clerkenwell, somewhere in London, stood at attention…not much more than a dozen, but they all stood straight and somber.

Get a Clue

I have just looked at a published photograph, and I am angry. I'm not 'teed off;' I'm mad, and I take exception to the point of view that has provoked my wrath.

The photo I refer to appears in roughly the middle of the September 10, 2011 edition of WORLD magazine, which arrived in my mailbox today. I have been a faithful WORLD subscriber for more than 15 years and was grateful to discover it after I could no longer stomach the flagrant bias of my previous news source, Newseek. So, one of the the lenses through which I digest news of the day is the editorial perspective of WORLD. Measured against the only truly inviolable plumb line, Scripture, I have never known of WORLD to steer me wrong. It's a trusted source of mine.

The cover story, and much of the internal copy, is devoted to the tenth anniversary of 9/11...a milestone that gives me pause. But my reaction to a two-page photo of one of the unthinkable explosions left me agape.

It's not that I hadn't seen similar images before. But it's been a while. It's too psychologically painful, and probably impossible, to sustain 'top of mind awareness' of such horrors, ten years on.

But my ire is provoked not by the fiery images of the attacks, nor even by the news that more than 1,000 victims still have not been identified by physical remains.

No, what I'm mad about is the still-trumpeted view, held by many--including one of my own sons--that "9/11 was an inside job." Even last night, in a media stupor, I scanned through a dozen or so online comments purporting to prove that the whole catastrophe was orchestrated by the US government and the Bush administration.

I used to scornfully dismiss such blatherers as kindred spirits to those who doubt the veracity of the Holocaust or Neil Armstrong's moonwalk. The United States is held in thrall by demented despots who would dare to dream up and effect profound terror. Right.

But now it's 10 years later and three--almost four--Arab countries in the grip of bona fide tyrants have been turned upside down. If memory serves, Saddam Hussein was not only captured and hanged, but eyewitnesses reported that the force of the drop actually caused him to be decapitated.

Let's not forget Tunisia. Wikipedia.com sums their recent history up as follows: "The country was governed by the authoritarian regime of President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali from 1987 to 2011 before he fled during the Tunisian revolution. Tunisia,... had suffered corruption benefiting the former president's family.[7]"

Also figuring prominently in the so-called Arab Spring is the dethroning of long-time Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak. The last image I saw of him showed him confined to a hospital bed, within a fenced cell inside an Egyptian courtroom. How far they fall.

And, perhaps before the end of this week, Moammar Gadaffi, Libya's chest-pounding megalomaniac, may well be captured.

I enumerate these erstwhile heads of state as examples of those who not only might have, but actually did tyrannise and terrorize their own citizens.

No matter what your politics are, I am confident to say that no such character has ever occupied the White House. Have they all been paragons of statesmanship? Clearly not. Has every president been known for foibles and stood on feet of clay? Without a doubt.

But it is heinous to me that many give credence to the idea that 9/11 was a US government-driven catastrophe. Think about it. The United States, for all its grave ills and declensions, is still the singular nation to which more people flee than any other. The history, presence, and ethos of America do not support the idea of a government bent on self-destruction. Some have asserted that hatred and jealousy of the US was one of the factors prompting the 9/11 attacks. How could such motives be imputed to those who govern this country and already enjoy its undeniable blessings?

I could go on, but allow me to conclude with another observation that should be axiomatic. Were it true that the US government, or even rogue factions within the government, was behind the 9/11 terror, this nation would be a very different one than it is now. Terrorists terrorize, and while the current US domestic scene today is troubled with weather disasters, it is not quailing in the grip of tyranny.

Satan never succeeds so easily in his deception than when mankind willfully denies pervasive truth.