Hope

"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

-Emily Dickinson

Friday night was an exciting night for my husband and I. I was getting the baby to sleep, he was carting our old bed out to the dumpster to make space for the new bed we were getting on Saturday. He had gotten the mattress downstairs and was taking the box spring out when I heard a *pop* sound. Now, in our neighborhood we often have people setting off fireworks at all times of the year, so I at first told myself that it was a firework. But then *pop,pop,pop*. No. Not a firework. The very distinctive sound of gunfire. And my husband was outside.
I live in a nice part of town. It's quiet, we live near a police substation. So gunfire is not typical. In the two years that we've lived here we have never ever had an incident like this.
I sat on the couch, frozen, trying to decide if it was safe to go outside and check on James or if I should stay where I was. After all, I was holding the baby. Finally I could stand it no longer and I went outside to make sure James was OK. And thankfully he was fine. He had seen the whole thing though and it appeared that one car was chasing another and firing shots at it. I was just glad he was safe.
Several of our neighbors came outside to see what had happened and to make sure no stray shots had injured anyone around us. Luckily, nobody appears to have been injured in the incident.

We all chatted for a bit, compared notes, and we even met a couple of new neighbors who had moved in recently. We all went back inside and back to whatever we had been doing. Maybe a bit shaken up, but safe all the same.
A friend of mine, remarking on the incident, said it seemed at times as though the world must be coming to an end. After all, in the last week there were several earthquakes, a hurricane was bearing down on the East coast, the economy is struggling, people are out of work, and it seems as though the news can report on nothing but murder, kidnapping, bombings, war, death, famine and so on.

I agree that the times seem bleak. They are dreadful and awful things happening everywhere. Murder, riots, war-the world can be a scary place. And it certainly seems there is nothing good to report or surely it would make the news. Reasons to be afraid, reasons to hide, to despair, are everywhere. Fear is screaming in our faces every day.

And yet, I have hope. We did not cower in our homes in fear. We came out to make sure that we were safe. We began new connections. Our lives go on. My son made two new friends at church today. Apparently he isn't the only one who loves to run around the sanctuary after services. Our baby has learned to sit up by himself and is beginning to crawl. My geranium is finally recovering from the mauling it took last month.
All of these things are small. They are quiet. They almost escape notice. They do not make the news. They do not cry out for attention.

And this is why. Hope does not require our attention to exist. Hope simply exists. Hope is there, waiting quietly, for us to notice. It does not need our regard in order to be. So Hope is a quiet thing. It is a thing told in whispers, in hugs, in laughter, in concern for another. Hope exists in moments of compassion and forgiveness, in moments of grace. Hope exists in peace, and Hope exists in war. In times of plenty or in famine, Hope is there.

Fear, on the other hand, requires a lot. It needs our attention. In needs our anger, our mistrust, our ignorance. It must clamor and shout because if we stop paying attention, if we stop feeding it, it will cease to exist. The more we fear, the bigger it becomes. We have more and more things to be afraid of. Soon anything can be a source of fear. We become paralyzed. We cannot act. And yet...

Hope can be found here as well. Because we have a choice. We can choose to turn away from fear. We can choose Hope. And Hope will always be there for us. Waiting quietly and patiently for us to forget our fear.

Deep cleaning

I will admit now that I am not the world's best housekeeper. I'm not the worst but I struggle with keeping a tidy house. My grandmother's house always looks immaculate to me (I'm sure it has cluttered and messy days, but I've never seen it.). I know how she does it but it just seems to be beyond me to keep my house that way. Oh well, I do the best I can.
However, every few months I feel compelled to clean. I mean really clean. I clean out closets, I clean out cabinets, I scrub everything, I rearrange my furniture. And for a few days my house looks great. And then it goes back to looking like two small kids and a slightly messy husband live here. And I spend a lot of my time just trying to contain all the chaos.
I think some of our problem is the sheer amount of stuff we have. We have clothes for 4 people, we have a couch, a loveseat, a TV and coffee table, DVD cabinets, an end table, Brian's little table and chairs, two beds, a bassinet, 3 dressers, some shelves, a desk for Brian, and that's just the big stuff. I keep trying to downsize, to get rid of things that we don't need or use but it seems never ending. I swear this stuff is breeding behind my back.
I did manage to purge a lot of kitchen stuff and give it away to a neighbor who is just starting a household with her boyfriend. I thought it was fitting since most of it was stuff that James and I had when we first set up house together.
I donated 6 13 gallon trash bags of clothes yesterday. I bet I find more but I still have to go through Brian's closet, again.
It really feels never ending. But as I clean and get rid of the old I feel lighter. And I realized, this is how life is too. Periodically we go through and clean out all the junk. All the relationships that aren't healthy, or we mend the ones that can be saved. We make space for new relationships, new people, new places, new experiences. If we just keep carrying around all our baggage we never have room for anything new. We stay the same.
For the record this cleaning spree was prompted by the imminent arrival of a new bed for James and me. We've had the same bed for almost 10 years and a new one is long overdue. So I've been cleaning and making space. Something new, something good, is coming. It's worth letting go of a few old things we're never going to use again.
So are the things in life that no longer serve a purpose. Old hurts, old anger, old prejudices, old fear. It's time to let those go too. Time for fresh starts all around. I can't wait to see what new and good things come to take their place.

The Thunder Rolls...

And the lightning strikes..oh wait, that's a Garth Brooks song. Never mind.  Anyway,

We have had a couple of days of thunder and lightning with a touch of rain mixed in for good measure. We have a storm rolling over now, although it remains to be seen if it will do more than growl at us. Last night my husband and I sat outside for almost an hour just watching the various storms around the city and enjoying the weather.

When we got home the air was perfectly still. The city was surrounded on all sides by different storms and farther away we could see still more storms. And yet where we were was so still and quiet. Not far from us the weather was raging, lightning every few seconds, and no doubt rain and wind, but where we were not a leaf was stirring.
And then came a light breeze. Every so often just a breath of air, enough to slightly rustle the leaves on the trees but no more. And still the lightning in the distance.
Then the breeze became stronger and constant. Still not much more than just a breath of air. And it became just a little stronger as we kept watching and just a little cooler.
And then suddenly it got gusty. Still one second followed by a blast of cold air from the storm as it breathed out. I can imagine on the other side people were experiencing something similar as it took in warm air and breathed out cold air on us. And then the wind was constant, cold, and strong. Still no rain, no thunder. Just this cold, cold wind and lightning everywhere.
A truly awesome display of nature. I could have done without the encore presentation in the middle of the night while I was sleeping though.

The Pursuit of Happiness

I think at one point we took the Declaration of Independence seriously. We believed that ALL men were created equal. That ALL men were deserving of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. But I think at some point we decided that well, maybe not all of us were equal. Maybe some of us were less deserving. So now it's some of us are deserving and some of us well...
To be fair, I think most people would say that in terms of race and gender we're starting to think we might all be equal. Of course, if your race happens to be Mexican or you happen to come from an Islamic country..maybe not. But hey, at least we don't hate Black people anymore. Most of us. And you know, women have come a long way. Now we get to do all the cooking, cleaning, raising of children AND hold a full time job. (Some of us are lucky enough to have spouses who help.)
OK so I really think equality is still a nice idea. I don't see a lot of it floating around in actuality though. The rich are still rich, the poor are still poor. And hey...guess who's running the government? The rich. And guess who they're interested in helping? The rich.
I am not saying that the rich should give up all their money and live in rags or be punished in some way for being rich. But I am also not saying that the poor should suffer needlessly because they are poor. The honest truth is that no matter what we do there will always be those who have less than others. There will always be the wealthy. There will always be the poor. There will sometimes be a middle class.
Our DoI says that we are entitled, by our Creator, with certain inalienable (that means they can't be taken away from us) rights. The right to life. The right to liberty. The right to pursue happiness. Let's start with the first.
The poor live shorter lives. They work harder, they have more stress. I know some people would disagree and say that if you're poor it's because you're too lazy, you aren't working hard enough, blah blah blah. I'm not arguing that right now, but for the record I think it's a load of crap. Anyway, all the studies show that over the last 20 years or so the life expectancy between those people of lower and higher incomes has increased with people of lower income living shorter lives.
There are many reasons for this. Stress is one of them, poor access to healthy and quality food, and the biggie, less access to affordable, competent medical care. Most poor people are too poor to see a doctor if they don't feel well, and often conditions like cancer or heart disease go untreated simply because the person doesn't have access to preventative care. And so they die younger than someone who can go in for a check up when they need to.
Now, I may be alone in this, but this seems an infringement on one of our inalienable rights. If we are all equal, in the eyes of our government and in the eyes of God (I believe the latter statement more than the former), then we are all entitled to equal care of that life. Meaning, if we get sick or hurt, we have a right to be treated competently and well until we are better. It is a protection of the life that we are entitled to.
On to liberty. Liberty is a tricky thing. It is defined as follows:
lib·er·ty/ˈlibərtē/Noun

1. The state of being free within society from oppressive restrictions imposed by authority on one's way of life.

I think the key word here is "oppressive" restrictions. Like it or not, there are restrictions on freedom. I hear a lot of: "It's a free country, I can do what I want." Well, no. Not actually. Nothing in this country is free. Except air, and just wait, I bet they figure out how to charge for that eventually. We have laws governing everything from how fast we can drive to interactions with the people around us. We have to pay taxes. (Yes, we do. Taxation is necessary. See above statement about things that are free.) We have to follow the laws. If we don't, there are consequences. So we may be free to say what we like, think what we like, believe what we like, wear what we like, read what we like, buy what we like, go where we like (mostly), but all that freedom comes with a pretty hefty price. Responsibility.
You must use your liberty responsibly. Participate in your government at a local, state and federal level. I hate nothing more than people who bitch about the state of things and then say they don't vote. Your vote is your voice. And while I agree that some very significant changes must happen in our government, that doesn't change your responsibility. Vote. Follow the rules, even the ones you think are stupid. Don't infringe on someones rights just because you don't like what they believe. They have the same liberties you do no matter who they are or where they're from. We throw liberty around like it's an easy thing, an easy word, or a free pass. It is none of those things. Respect it. Be responsible with it. Cherish it. Not everyone is lucky enough to be able to speak their mind.

You need life. I'm not saying an easy life devoid of hardship, but life. And a life free from worrying about how you'll protect that life from things like disease, illness, and injury.
You need liberty. You need to be able to explore and have opportunities to learn and grow and develop. You still have to follow the rules, but those rules should not prevent you from living your life.

And finally, the pursuit. All of us, as equal individuals, should have the right to pursue what makes us happy. If that means that we want to work hard in school and get an education then all of us, from the wealthiest to the poorest, should have the right to that education. (The actual earning of knowledge should not be easy. Easy knowledge is cheap knowledge and by definition, worth little.) If you want to spend your life working hard with your hands building and creating, then go for it. You like painting? Find a way to make that work for you. Just be prepared for a lot of hardship no matter what you choose. Nobody ever promised that life would be an easy thing, and I'm not saying it should be. We value that which we work hard for, we do not value what is free.

What I am saying is that the opportunities in life should be available equally to everyone, the care of that life should be available equally to everyone,  and everyone should be prepared to care responsibly for their burden of liberty.

 

Letting go

I have to confess something. I hold grudges. Not over small things like the jerk who cuts you off in traffic, but if you truly hurt me or do something to really tick me off...well, chances are I'm still going to be mad about it in a few months. Or maybe years later. You never know and it could well depend on the severity of the offense. I may never get over it.
As an example, a few years ago my sister-in-law said something to me and I have never forgiven her for it. I can be polite and civil to her, but I don't like her. I spend as little time as possible with her. I dislike her very intensely.
There are other examples but this one has been weighing on me. When my husband and I first started dating I resolved to like his family. When his sister and I were both pregnant I thought we'd be friends. Maybe not best buddies, but at least friends. And now I have no interest in doing any such thing. If I never had to see her that would suit me fine. I don't mind Brian going and developing a relationship with his aunt. Family is, after all, very important. But I don't want anything to do with her.
On the flip side of this is my belief that we should forgive each other. Holding on to anger is a bad thing. It's not healthy (you can look up the studies), it serves no useful purpose, and generally is just a big waste of energy. And most times I can forgive people, and depending on the person I can forgive just about anything. I don't think I'd be married were that not the case. Love is a big factor there, and maybe I didn't have enough time to get to know my sister-in-law well enough to love her enough to really forgive her. I don't really know.
I do know that if some disaster happened and she desperately needed my help then I would give it. I might grumble, but I would help her as much as I could in whatever way I could. But I will never forget what she said to me.
For the record, I have gotten better about letting go of offenses from those nearest and dearest to me. But I'm sure that forgiving someone else has a lot more to do with this unconditional love thing. I'm not so good at that for everyone else yet. Like just about everyone else I have a problem with being a little self-centered. It's hard to put myself in other people's shoes. I want everyone to understand me and my problems and forgive me for my screw ups, but I have a harder time doing that for them. So my project for the foreseeable future, unconditional love. Even for the people I don't like. So that I can start forgiving them.

All the infinite wonders of the universe....

Maybe I'm alone in this, but I really doubt it. I find the way the universe works fascinating. The complexity and harmony is astonishing. Things come into being, they pass away. I don't always understand this process. For instance, quantum mechanics or string theory or physics of almost any kind tend to baffle me. The only person who was sufficiently able to explain black holes to me was Neil DeGrasse Tyson. (You can google him if you don't know who he is.)
But still, the universe fascinates me.
For starters, just here in our own solar system and our own planet we have a phenomenon that I just love. When I was young I always thought that the reason our little planet was safe from the Sun was because of how far away it is. Which is part of it. However, our planet also has an intrinsic magnetic field, which helps deflect solar radiation. It looks something like this:

We should all be grateful for this because it really is what allows life to exist on Earth (besides the atmosphere). The interaction of the magnetosphere and the solar wind is also what gives us the beautiful aurora borealis and the aurora australis (northern and southern lights, respectively). I think that's pretty remarkable.
Also, the next time you happen to be out and about in someplace quite dark, look up. Really look at the skies. See the stars, and planets, and galaxies. What you're seeing is time. The light from our Sun takes 8 minutes to get to us. Some of the lights we see in the sky may no longer exist, it took their light thousands, if not millions, of years to reach our little planet. Some of those stars may have burned out, exploded, turned into black holes...who knows. Astrophysicists might, but I don't. See previous statement on physics. It gives me an odd feeling of reassurance to look up into the sky and see all those celestial bodies. Looking at them is a moment of connection to a vast universe of which I am a small part.
The very last thing that fascinates me (at least for now) is a little closer to home. Life, itself.
I was not always sure I believed there was a God. And when I did I was never sure what I believed about God. (To be honest, some days I'm still not sure. It's an ongoing process.) What changed that, beyond stars, galaxies, magnetosphere, and the infinite wonder and complexity of the universe was something a little simpler. Having a child.
Think about it. For a child to come into the world, hundreds of things have to go exactly right. The right egg and the right sperm have to meet up in the right place. They then have to start splitting and creating new cells, all of which eventually make up the different parts of the body. They have to reach the uterus and implant successfully. They have to continue to develop properly. (Sometimes they don't, but that's one of those things I don't understand.) This process continues and in 5 short weeks you have something that is starting to resemble something alive. In 8 weeks you can see a heartbeat and movement. At 12 weeks the baby begins to look like a human being. And in a very short (although not to a woman who is pregnant) 9 months, you have a person. And this is all very simplified. I'm not writing a text book. Of course, for all this to be successful, labor must be successful. And that is another process where so many things can go terribly wrong. But they rarely do. So in 9 months you go from two separate entities combining to form something smaller than a period (.) to a living, breathing, human (or cheetah, or whatever. Life is pretty miraculous no matter which species you are.)
Every single moment of gestation is a moment in which something can go horribly wrong, or wonderfully right. And when it goes right, and you are holding this person who came from you and is of you...there are no words. But it is a profound moment when all those stars and all those galaxies and all the planets come down to Earth and are held in your arms. All the potential, all the joy, all the wonder, and all the love in the universe is right there in the room.
And that is why I believe in God. Because I have held the stars, I have beheld the true wonder of the universe. I have known perfect love, if only for that moment. I have held my child, a true miracle if ever there was one. Even if he did destroy my geranium.
So tomorrow I'll forgive him. I can always get another geranium if this one doesn't survive the mauling. But I can never recapture the miracle that is my son.

My Son is Home!

He's actually been home since Sunday afternoon but I've been busy. He was gone for 10 days. So for 10 days my house was quiet. It was just me and Teddy during the day, and in the evenings it was just me, James and Teddy. I got a lot of laundry done. Cleaned house. Cooked some really amazingly delicious food. Did errands, got my school-work done in a timely manner and napped when I felt like it. It was wonderful. And awful.
Brian has spent the night away from me before, he's even gone camping with his Gramma and Papa Andy before and been gone for several days. But this was the longest trip he's ever taken. I didn't see him or talk to him while he was gone. It was too quiet. It was too peaceful. I'm too used to his constant chatter, the sound of him running around outside. Even when he is sleeping the house is a little louder just because he's in it.
So now he's home. And it's back to normal. He's talking all the time, even when you tell him to hush. He is in a state of constant motion. I have a steady stream of status updates, plans, intentions, thoughts, questions and giggles. It's loud. I almost never get to sit down. He doesn't nap, but if I'm lucky I can get him to play quietly in his room for a while so Teddy and I can lay down. I haven't even thought about homework since he got home. It's only been 2 days and I'm already exhausted. But I love every second.
Absence truly makes the heart grow fonder. I am so glad to have my boy home.