paravanes:meditations

I'd planned something else for today's post. Instead I'm asking readers to follow the link in the title and make a statement in support of elections without political murder as a "flavor of the month." View Liz Trotta's on-air comments here: Mike Huckabee's "joke" (at a National Rifle Association meeting) about Barack Obama getting shot, Hiliary's reference to the political murder (I hate the word assassination; it's too clean and clinical) of Bobby Kennedy in 1968, and finally Liz Trotta's comment on Fox News suggesting that Barack Obama and Osama Bin Laden should "both be shot" tell me that something deeply and personally ugly has come up for air in this campaign. Regardless of your political position, my hope is you will sign the petition in the title link because you don't want elections to be determined by murder or the fear of murder. Regardless of how politically conservative or liberal you may be, you understand

Sometimes an unsought gift drops into your lap. This happened to me earlier this week when I received an email about Jerry White's new book, I Will Not Be Broken . This is not a traditional self-help book. Developed from the author's experience as the survivor of a landmine explosion, Jerry White draws on the life stories of others who have faced and overcome large, life-altering experiences (LAEs). Only in retrospect can we say something is a "tragedy." An LAE becomes a tragedy based on our responses to that experience. After reading White's five steps to overcoming, I realized there is no middle ground in recovery and reclaiming. Either you forever live as a shadow of your former self, or you emerge to become greater, more lovingly creative, and stronger. If you think you're on the middle ground, you're in shadow land. Perhaps this is what the Apostle Paul referred to when he asserted "...in all these things, we are more than conquerors..." (Ro

My mother has been deceased for nearly five years. Mother's Day for me is no longer a time of visits, gifts, cards, or flowers. It is a time a reflection, remembrance, celebration, and affirmation. It's a mothering day. This weekend in May is a time to open memory boxes, read old letters again, look at old photographs, and recall lessons learned. It's a time to cry. It's a time to smile. My mother and I led very different lives and this created a real challenge of understanding and empathy. Eventually, this breach was filled and as she approached the end of her time here, our relationship resembled the early years of my life: a time when I relied upon her to explain the world to me. Earlier this week, I told my daughter one of the jobs of a good mother (or parent) is to tell and teach a child things they need to know, but can't independently perceive or understand. Sometimes, the transmission of that knowledge is difficult or painful and creates a "bounceback