by jphilo | Mar 24, 2011 | Current Events
Thoughts of spring make my heart beat faster. The daffodils are getting bigger every day. Our magnolia bush will soon burst into bloom. The grass is greening, cardinals greet me during my daily walks, and it’s almost time to put the winter coats in storage.
But a heart-stopping NPR story the other day changed my innocent anticipation of spring. It was about an annual sign of spring in Chicago, the rise in gang violence. It happens every year, when the weather improves and kids hit the streets. Last year, the report said, almost 700 youth were hit by gunfire and 66 were killed. The reporters described several programs in the schools aimed at young, adolescent boys, interventions to keep them out of gangs and in school. The problem is, sometimes the streets grow so dangerous in spring, kids can’t get to school.
The story was squeezed between stories of global magnitude – air strikes in Libya and the earthquake in Tokyo. But I kept thinking, “Chicago is only six hours away. These children are my fellow citizens facing a hopeless spring.”
My heart breaks to think of children who will see drug deals instead of daffodils, hear gunshots instead of bird song, and smell blood instead of apple blossoms this spring. My spirits flag as I get ready for my daily walk, a grace I take for granted while little children in Chicago watch television behind locked doors.
Cruel spring.
Cold comfort.
Always winter and never Christmas in Narnia.
Always winter and never spring in Chicago ghettos.
Aslan, when will you come?
by jphilo | Mar 21, 2011 | Current Events
With the earthquake in Japan, the air strikes in Libya, and March Madness some topics of national interest have been overlooked by the media recently. To be specific, the completion of our new first floor laundry room. My January 20 blog post recorded the commencement of the project, and a mere two months later, the job is done.
Which must be a relief to those of you who’ve been waiting with bated breath to hear more about the earth shattering adventure. To be honest, I a little chagrined by the fact that this breathtaking ecological story (the new washer and dryer are energy efficient) hasn’t been all over Facebook, Twitter, and the greater blogosphere. I guess my natural humility and lack of self-absorption simply kept me from uploading daily photos of the progress. That and the fact that the new laundry/half bathroom is so small it’s really hard to take pictures. To get today’s shot, I had to stand on the toilet – lid down, of course. So, in the interest of full disclosure, I freely admit that my propensity for vertigo when perched on anything taller than roller skates has a great deal to do with the poor journalistic coverage of this major event.
To make up for my alarming lack of journalistic commitment, Hiram and I hereby invite you to the christening of the laundry room this Tuesday evening. We will break open a new bottle of detergent in honor of the event and read aloud from the instruction manuel in preparation for the the launch of our stackable washer and dryer. Refreshments will not be served, but you’re welcome to stay and chat until the laundry folding festival begins.
For those of you who aren’t afraid of heights, feel free to bring digital cameras and take pictures (in shifts since the laundry room only holds 2 or 3 people) of this breaking news story. You can even use my computer to upload them on Facebook, so the people who can’t attend don’t feel excluded. Consider it your journalistic duty to humanity.
This kind of breaking news can’t be squelched. It must reach the common man!
by jphilo | Mar 14, 2011 | Current Events
The news and pictures coming from Japan are mind-boggling. So much destruction. So many injured and dead. So much potential for lasting harm from the damaged nuclear fuel plants. Every new report of mounting casualties, melting nuclear reactors, and the possibility of aftershocks increases my personal sense of helplessness in light of the magnitude of this disaster.
I can’t rush to Japan to assist in the clean up. Even without a book deadline breathing down my neck, a lack of disaster training, physical stamina, and a proclivity for the human version of a nuclear meltdown in the face of any crisis make me an unlikely rescue worker.
Is there anything can I do?
The question came to mind ten times a day. Hard on its heels come memories of Miyuki, the Japanese foreign exchange student who lived with us during the 2004-05 school year. Her ignorance of western culture was as mind-boggling as the recent earthquake.
She wanted to know about our country’s government, but concepts of elections, presidents, and public debate were beyond her comprehension.
She had never heard of Hitler, and she couldn’t understand his hatred of Jewish people. She didn’t know what Jews were.
She “became a Christian” in her first host home before she came to us, but six months later was amazed to learn He was God.
She knew Christmas was about Santa and gifts, but was amazed to learn the holiday had religious roots.
And I know there is something I can do.
Though I’ve pray for her often since her return to southeast Japan years ago, my prayers are more intentional today. I pray God will bring to life the seeds planted while she was here. I pray the truth she heard and pondered while in our home will come back to her and become her hope In the aftermath of the earthquake. I pray she will find true life in Christ and bear much fruit in the midst of devastation and pain. In the face of much destruction, my prayers don’t seem like much. But this is what I’m equipped to do – pray for Miyuki, who was in our home for a reason.
This is something I can do.
by jphilo | Mar 9, 2011 | Current Events
Today, I could be bummed because of last night’s thick, wet snowfall which put a damper upon spring’s steady progress. I could be grinchy and grumpy because daylight savings time kicks in this weekend and will make me wait an extra hour for the sunrises I crave each morning. I could lament the steady drain on our checkbook when car licenses, property taxes, and Hiram’s birthday all arrive in March, also one of the two most grey and dismal months of the year.*
But I’m not bummed.
I’m not grinchy and grumpy.
I’m not lamenting our meager checkbook balance or March’s parade of grey days.
Instead, I am happy to be alive this morning after a snowy, treacherous drive home from Clive last night.
The problem wasn’t that it was snowing hard.
The problem wasn’t winds and drifting.
The problem was a sticky, heavy, wet snow that made it hard to see the side of the road.
I was only going 35 when the car veered toward the shoulder. The bump caused the car to fishtail. It went across the road and almost into the ditch. Then it slid to the other side and almost into that ditch. When it finally stopped moving, the car was pointed south in the northbound lane. I moved into the southbound lane and found a place to turn around.
On the slow trip home, I passed one car being pulled out of the ditch. So I drove slower, thinking about how God chose to answer my frantic prayer as the car and the steering wheel spun out of control.
“God, be with me!” I said.
Whether I ended up in the ditch unharmed or injured,
Whether I made it through without a scratch or in the hospital,
Whether I lived or died,
I knew he would answer that prayer.
He would be with me.
Why did he answer by keeping me out of the ditch, without a scratch on me or the car? Only one explanation comes to mind. His purposes for me are not complete. He has work for me to do. So as the mundane duties of this day unfold, I am happy to be alive, uninjured, and able to to accomplish them.
I am happy to fold underwear,
happy to edit more chapters of my book,
happy to cook and wash dishes,
happy to agonize over what color to paint the bathroom,
happy to watch my husband create another remodeling mess,
happy to see the daffodils poking through the pesky, wet snow,
happy to be alive.
*November is the other one of the two most dismal months.
by jphilo | Feb 14, 2011 | Current Events
This past weekend, Iowans enjoyed a break in the weather. It came just in time for Valentine’s Day, so women can wear dresses and strappy, spiky shoes instead of fuzzy sweaters, wool pants, and winter boots. KInda nice to set aside winter toughness for a few days, in anticipation of spring’s kindness.
I took advantage of the sunshine and warmer temperatures hovering around freezing and walked outside on Saturday. This is my version of spring training, my opportunity to toughen up before swimsuit season arrives. Not that I’m big into swim suits (or strappy, spiky shoes for that matter), but that’s beside the point.
The point is that my pride at being one tough women, who braved February weather to walk outside, was properly dashed after reading a couple tidbits in the Harding County, South Dakota weekly newspaper, the Nation’s Center News. You may think it’s pretty pathetic for someone to still take the paper, 25 years after they moved away. But trust me, articles about the tough women who live in the remote, northwest corner of South Dakota keep me renewing my subscription year after year.
In those parts, winter lasts a long time, and this one’s been pretty snowy, too. Which sets the scene for the first article which reported that Ronda Cordell “was a little worried about the ice and snow on her roof, so she chopped the six inches of ice from her eaves, but it was so icy that there was not much she could do about the snow.”
The second story was about Tawni Cordell. (I believe her husband is Ronda’s grand-nephew.) She and her husband went mountain lion hunting a few weeks ago. “When the dogs treed the cat along the face of a cliff, Tawni and Ryan climbed up to have an open shot and brought him down…He weighed 175 pounds.” The reporter concludes with these words. “These women are tough around here, because Tawni is expecting a baby, too.”
Like I said, those two stories put me in my place. Ronda’s the kind of woman who has no qualms about chopping ice from the eaves of her house on a ranch in the boondocks, even though she lives alone. Tawni’s the kind of woman who tracks and kills mountain lions while preparing to give birth. (I’m exaggerating a bit. She’s due in June.) I’m the kind of woman who wears yak tracks on a walk through town and takes her cell phone along just in case, and who refuses to wear spiky, strappy shoes on Valentine’s Day because she’s afraid of heights.
Stories like these keep me subscribing to The Nation’s Center News year after year. They remind me of the tough women who live in and around Harding County –
Of their kindness.
Of their determination.
Of their strength.
Of their resourcefulness.
They remind me that someday,
I want to be like them.
by jphilo | Feb 4, 2011 | Current Events
So far, the week has produced bushels and bushels of bad news. The following items top my gloomy Gus list.
Gas went over $3.00 a gallon.
The peaceful Egyptian protests went nasty.
Food prices will soon rise.
Not as many new jobs were created as expected.
The folks in Washington spend all their time blaming one another for problems instead of finding solutions.
The big blizzard predictions were accurate which will encourage the forecasters to greater hype heights in the future.
Iran may have a nuclear bomb in less than a year.
On the flip side, there’s only enough good news to fill a peck measure.
The local street department plowed out our road very quickly.
My spreadsheet program can make really cool checklists.
At the bakery yesterday, I resisted all the doughnuts calling my name and ordered a salad for lunch.
In an unbalanced news week like this one, it’s hard to keep smiling. I mean, how’s a person supposed to stay perky when nothing can be done about this miserable state of affairs.
I can’t lower gas prices.
I can’t do anything about Egypt.
I can’t stop eating.
I can’t create jobs.
I can’t influence politicians.
I can’t stop the weather.
I can’t infiltrate Iran’s nuclear plants.
Everything I can’t do leaves me feeling helpless. So instead, I’m going to concentrate on what I can do.
I can ride my bike more when the weather gets better.
I can pray for Egypt.
I can serve leftovers for supper.
I can build my business and hire employees someday.
I can vote.
I can dress for the weather.
I can trust God’s power to be greater than any nuclear weapon.
Best of all, I can take Mom to lunch and the library on this cold sunny day.
What I can do isn’t big, but it is important. And that’s enough to perk up this woman and get her moving.
So please excuse me.
I’m off to do what I can today.
My mother is waiting.
