Last night I read that familiar passage in Romans 8.

The one that tells us that all things work together for good. The one that says that nothing not present, nor future can separate us from the love of Christ.

And it got me thinking about why we humans have this capacity for regret, is it linked to remorse? Is it because we have enough perspective of time to realize that our past is there behind us, that but for a few changed words things might have been different? Does God regret? Even as He must have known from the beginning that it would end on the cross, does He ever think back to that moment in garden and wonder ruefully why on Earth, Eve didn't trust Him? And wonder further why Adam fell too?

Well, I don't know, and in those situations it's best to stick to truth instead of chasing things there are not answers too.

The truth is that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ, who submitted Himself even unto death, that we might rise as conquerors of death. With nothing to fear. Therefore, we may lay down and sleep in peace, we may live in light and laughter, for we have not one single thing in heaven, nor on earth to fear.

That is not to say that there is not a place for tears too. Jesus wept. A precious truth, I know I've overlooked before. Jesus wept in grief. Thank God for such sympathy in our conditions.

In Christ we may know that our futures, despite present tears, are bright. For His love is precious, and He has sought us out in our grief and in our darkness.

I'm not sure how it's possible to experience moments of joy, and gratitude, in confusion and sadness, and so I am sure it has to be a kindness of God.

Today, on my run, a beautiful butterfly pratically flew in my face. That made me laugh. Then I nearly ran over, on foot, a baby bunny who just happened to be crossing the sidewalk in front of me. That made me smile too.

I'm trying to understand what it means that "The joy of the Lord is my strength." One thing I think it might mean is that the joy God takes in His relationship to His son and the Holy Spirit is our strength. That the Lord delights in relationship. I think the Lord really loves relationships, and I think He really loved spending time in the garden with Adam and Eve.

We can take joy in God's joy even when we hurt. What good news is that!

Mockingbird

My Mom and I went to a church service down at the local Anglican church today. It included the 121 Psalm - I lift up my eyes to the hills, from whence cometh my help...

And the priest preached about waiting upon the Lord's purpose and plan.

Both of those things are very good to reflect upon, but my favorite part was when a mockingbird lighted on the cross outside the window behind the altar. The cross is set in a beautiful little garden, and here came a mockingbird to sit on one of its arms.

The bird fluffed and preened, and looked at the cross as though to say, "Goodness this is a strange tree,"

And it crossed my mind that Christ came and is coming again to redeem all creation, from my poor heart, to this funny little bird. Christ comes to set all things right, to reconcile creation to the Father.

I'm keeping my eyes on the hills.

I'm in the middle of a great sadness.

But I am profoundly grateful for the love and support of my family and friends. They are truly being the body of Christ to me. What a tremendous kindness of God, to give relationships to us, to comfort us through other people.

Lord, thank you for your kindness. For food, and for sleep. For legs to run with and eyes to cry with, and hands to play piano with. Thank you, God, for all these things.

Heard this story on NPR this morning

The lede of it seemed like it was going to be about a daughter who lovingly restored the 1956 Thunderbird that her parents drove on their honeymoon as a gift for the 50th anniversary.

But when the reporter talked with the couple who driving the Thunderbird on their second honeymoon, it quickly appeared that the story was really this delightful couple who were celebrating their long marriage. The story wasn't the car, it was the love and the life that was traveling in it.

Crystal City, Missouri

Sometimes you just have to pick up where you are now, instead of picking up where you left off - that's always the desire though when time's passed.

January was a long time and several cross country trips ago, but here I sit in a capital Capitol in the middle of a glorious Sabbath, and it calls me once more to itself, to sit, to rest, to be and wonder.

So off I go.

Hey Momma,
Are you ready to get back on the speech train?
Cause we're back with Elizabeth Glaser's address to the 1992 Democratic convention in New York.
I'm not usually the one to look up the back story on the speakers, but I did here and found the Elizabeth Glaser contracted HIV from a blood transfusion she got while giving birth to her daughter in 1981, she passed the virus to her daughter through breast milk, and to her son in 1984 in utero. In 1985, she and her children were diagnosed with HIV/AIDS. At the time there were no drugs for children, and her daughter died in 1988. Glaser then started the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation to raise money for research of the disease in children.
She became a prominent activist and spokesperson, and she died in 1994 - just two years after her speech. Her son survives, and continues in his mother's work today.

Now here's some more background: In 1981 when the Glaser's unknowingly contracted HIV from a medical procedure meant to help them survive, HIV/AIDS was still relatively unknown - it did not have a name, doctor's didn't know how it was transmitted, knowledge and theories about the disease, who it affected and how you got it changed regularly. In December of 1982, the CDC reported the first mother to child transmission.

I think this speech has to be approached differently than some of the others, primarily because Glaser wasn't a public figure in the sense of a politician, so I think the standard should be perhaps gentler.

Rhetorically, I didn't think it was a great speech - it was a typical convention speech, an us against them speech drumming several campaign themes. People expect that kind of thing at a convention. And particularly after the past season of conventions, I believe that I find those speeches to be lacking in substance and only trying to sound as though they have meaning.

I feel that too often American's are unknowing of how their country is actually supposed to run, we the people elect the president, and if we find he doesn't listen, or he doesn't care and pursue what we think important, then we vote him out, which is the very thing that happened in 1992. Beyond that, the strength of our government is not solely in the executive branch, but also in the legislative: we elect our leaders, and routinely put them out of office at the voting booth. Her speech would not have played nearly as well, but it would have been perhaps more powerful to say that America's failure to act quickly in the HIV/AIDS crisis was not a failure of the government, but a failure of her people, because it is we who elect our leaders, and we who help set their agendas - or it should be at least. To her credit she does appeal to America when she says, "America: Wake up." But I think too often we forget the real heart and soul of America is we the people, not, and sometimes we the people make mistakes.

We hope that our leaders have the courage to speak and act about difficult and upopular things, and had the full weight of the government been behind the cause of HIV/AIDS as it is much more so today, than Glaser might not have had to make her speech. But it wasn't, and leaders weren't speaking out, and we the people weren't speaking up.

On a personal level, Glaser can be admired as can any mother who is fighting for her children. The experience of fighting an unknown, and stigmatized disease, that she as a mother had passed on unknowingly to her children must have been terrible. I've not met a mother who would not sacrifice her own health for that of her children.

As anyone who's read about the history of HIV/AIDS the 1980s were marked by ignorance and fear - Glaser's own four year old daughter was barred from her preschool and shunned from birthday parties.

So I think the lesson from this speech is that we the people need to speak up, and we need to remember that leader's travel to Washington on our vote (recent gubenatorial appointments not withstanding) that's how it should work anyway. So my question is, what's the issue now? What are we not speaking up about? Is it genocide? Oppression? Slavery? What do we need our leaders to hear now?

One last note is that is remarkable how things have radically things have changed in just under 20 short years from that speech. Can anyone have imagined then that our first black president was less then two decades away? Could anyone have imagined that our government would give so much resource to fighting HIV/AIDS around the world? (see http://www.whitehouse.gov/infocus/bushrecord/factsheets/globalhealth.html for more information.)

DC is going off - horns and firecrackers - like I haven't heard since we lived in Buenos Aires and the soccer team won the world cup.

There's too much to say in this moment...

But one thing I love most is this:

I took my Baltimore kids to the aquarium once, and caught the eyes of some of the other patrons as they took in my "city" kids, and looked disdainfully at them.

I've heard the kids I taught talk about being president someday...

What I love about this moment, is that never, ever again is anyone going to be able to look at them and say they can't because of their upbringing, background, or the color of their skin. They won't be able to say it because tonight we said "Yes we can, and Yes, they can."

Here's to them tonight. And to all of us in the days ahead.

Looking to follow the fun at home - Color in your very own Electoral College Map here
Cheers

The Star Spangled Banner's going back on display this year. It's been restored and patched up and loved on by gentle hands. It's a fragile fabric, and deserves tender care.

This morning, I stood quietly in line with my neighbors and cast my vote to peacefully change our government. That the particular event of Election Day has occured regularly and peacefully in our country really is a miracle.

From the steps of the high school where I waited, the Capitol dome could be clearly seen. And here was a "Good morning," and "Nice to see you," and "Don't worry - we'll hold your place in line."

And so this morning with a small library pencil to connect the pieces of a broken arrow, I put my little stitch into the history and the future of my country, which is also fragile, has had to be patched up from time to time, and deserves a tender care.

There were people helping their elderly Nana's and Aunts, whole families, and some who said, "Oh, I hope - I hope, been waiting 400 years." And that is really something. There were people bringing their sons and daughters and babies to stand with them in this moment, and that was something too.

And there was me, a girl from the plains of Texas casting her vote in the District, that's something as well.

Maybe that's the real fabric of the Star Spangled Banner - the very fiber of it, a nation standing together pulling together for our future. A stitch there, a patch there, a friendly poll worker, a chance to change what comes for us.

Go put your stitch in. And as a dear friend told me, "You've got to vote your heart." Not all the stitches have to go the same way, after all, the Banner's always been made of red and blue. Just completing that simple action, places your feet in the course of our history.

Debs for President

Now the story goes that when women finally got the vote, there was a dust up between my great grand-parents Lily and John. John was for Debs, Lily for the other guy. Lily asked John to drive her into town to cast her vote, and John said he wouldn't if she wasn't voting for Debs - disenfranchisement even then. Lily said that she'd just drive herself to town - good for her, I appreciate a strong-minded woman. At any rate, she cast her vote, and Debs didn't win, and life continued, and here we are in some ways asking still with him "Who shall save us from Congress?" among other things.

It really is striking how all our arguments come back around, still we are talking about socialism, still we are talking about the everyman, still there are poor little kids in the city who've never seen a live chicken, still we're talking about how to make all satisfied and wealthy. Much of Debs speech reminded me of Huey Long's speech. Maybe they should have been the ticket.

Rather than to address his many and lengthy arguments, what I found most striking was the intensely civil and warm tone. That those he has disagreed with have treated him with kindness and respect, and he apparently they. He also refrains from speaking ill of Republicans or Democrats. Can you imagine? People simply being neighborly - it seems like a fairy tale in our present and in our recent history. And I dare say that no one besides Debs has ever tipped his hat at the mention of Kansas, though my Grandma liked it greatly.

Now, despite his eloquent arguments that the time for competition has passed, that all men should join hands and bask in the strength of their work and the satisfied stomachs of their wives and children, and that this is possible when the individual submits himself to the will of the party (oh dear, someone is sure to bring up Ayn Rand in the comments now), I have to say that socialism has never, and will never work.

Though he seems perfectly clear that he believes religion or faith to serve no one, by virtue of one's service, the thing served becomes a god. One sacrifices to it to recieve favor, one binds oneself to it for protection, one exalts it because one has been smart enough to find it and perceive its wisdom.

These old human hearts are fallen. We've not in this twentieth century past managed to turn our swords into plowshares, now we've found weapons that make swords seem pitiful. We've not eradicated human slavery, we've not mastered our base desires that would see others lose at our gain. We gorge ourselves at the table while others go hungry. It is the same story as always, it is the perverted nature of humanity.

Presumably the nobility of socialism derives from the strength of the will of man united for his brother and for his children, and for himself. This is where it would derive it's admirable quality from, and yet a pig becomes no more noble simply because he stands with a large group of pigs, nay his smell is magnified, and multiplied. So we have seen also in history that in large groups man often does not become more noble, but less and this less often leads to dire consequences for someone. In order for that not to be the case, there must be something different and other than the soul and heart of man.

So where does that leave us...or rather here is my thought on the issue:

I don't think any real change to the human condition can be brought about by the election of one party or another. I believe that only an encounter with the God the Father through Christ His son can change a soul, can grant that soul a stand in nobility and grace and so give that soul a freedom in which to serve the people that soul encounters. Christ is the other the lifts a soul from it's fallen, brokeness and redeems the soul, refines and changes it, clothes it anew

And I bring this up because some have said the early church was socialist in nature. When the reality remains that the work of Christ on earth is more than can be encompassed in any political or social system. If it could be encompassed in say, socialism (or any other system), than surely through their legislative power the governments of the world by now would have provided us with world peace and satisfaction. They have not. I would say they have not because it is an impossible task for man.

What I think is that this Wednesday morning, there will still be children to serve in the city, children who need food, and warm clothes, and to know that the divine spark they bear confers upon them a dignity in their life. And I don't think that will come through legislation or mandated societal change. I believe that it comes in part through the work of the Church as the Body of Christ serving their neighbors.

Well just to wrap it up here, I'll return to how struck I was by Debs' gracious courteousy and tone. I'm sure my comments will ruffle some feathers, but I hope I've managed to state my case with a respect for the company I stand in.

That little guy is my brother - he is sometimes very serious. He's sitting with my Uncle Jess on a gracious porch in Barnhart, Missouri. That coffee cup that Jess is drinking from is now in my parent's cabinet, my brother and I both like to drink from it when we're home. What you can't see in the picture is that my brother's curls are red.

My big brother's birthday is 10/15! So I thought I'd take a moment to list some really fantastic things about him - since we used to watch David Letterman together (the development of my sense of humor owes alot to Jimmy) we'll go with a top 10.

10. We have a New Years' tradition of beating pie pans - my brother once dragged a date across Houston, just to keep his promise to his baby sister that he'd be home to beat the pans. Just one of the places I learned what a promise meant.

9. He taught me that patience is often worth the pay off - we'd spend hours setting up a whole suitcase of little green army men in his room, in which the frequent mess provided lots of room for trenches and cover, then we'd shoot them with rubber bands.

8. He was always willing to beat Super Mario Brothers' level 3 and then let me keep on playing.

7. The man introduced me to Saturday Night Live.

6. At my first soccer game, when I got conked in the head with the ball, he ran onto the field and picked me up. Also he read to my kindergarten class, which made me roughly the coolest kid ever.

5. He (and his wife) once surprised me for my birthday by driving all the way to Texas.

4. He is the only person who can make me laugh so hard I cry for no reason at all, including inappropriate places like church services and funerals.

3. He can fly a plane. And he can fly it better than your brother.

2. He loves the Lincoln Memorial as much as I do.

1. My newspaper editor once asked me who my hero was - I answered, "My brother," - I've learned a lot about perseverance and doing the right thing from him.

Happy Birthday, Jimmy! Love you bunches!

And well, here's Sanger:
Choosing to believe the best of people, I don't think Sanger means to be patently offensive in her speech. It seems that she instead passionately believes that children should not come into this world, but that the world be properly prepared to care for them.

I mean, how many people, including myself, have said, "You ought to have a license to be a parent."?

But her suggestions would limit the birth of children only to the well born, and while we'd all like the silver spoon, it's hard not to think that something would be irreversibly lost in that scenario. I mean, by her suggestions there would be no more stories of plucky souls overcoming difficult beginnings, and we do love rags to riches stories.

I find her term "sub normal," particularly offensive - especially when it's only been a recent development that adequate care and education has led the realization that many children with disorders don't need to be institutionalized, that just need different care. Not to mention the tone the term takes on given the technology that is now being used to test and select embryos for implantation.

She and I can at least agree that government involvement is a bad, bad idea.

I guess it takes some amount of stick-to-it-tiveness to promote an idea and new society which Sanger had to have known would never take root - the ultimate impossible pipe dream - a place where all was well for every child, and every parent free to enjoy it.

She probably would have gained more ground, and being better remembered had she promoted adoption, better pre-natal health care, better parent education, and better education for all children.

Weekly Wrap:
Well friends and loyal readers lets just recap the week, shall we:
Monday: In office till 11 p.m. finishing learning plans for students prior to Tuesday launch of reading program.

Tuesday: Uhh - sleepy, office work, reading program - convincing children that reading is both important and fun.

Wednesday: Attend my first ever Yom Kippur at Temple Sinai. Packed house. Beautiful music.

Thursday: Finally attend show at 9:30 club here in DC - I remember sitting in the middle of Missouri and listening to NPR broadcasts of my favorite bands, "Live from the 9:30 club..." and then Thursday I was there at the Of Montreal show. Definitely weird. Great opener. Remembered that I like loud rock and roll.

Friday: Uhh - sleepy, attend open city council meeting on Public Schools Facilities at which City Councilman, Marion Barry is present - no joke. Me and Marion Barry in the same room. Come home after work and sleep.

Saturday: Uhh - wake up. Make some plans. About to implement.

Later yo.

Okay, you know what? Margret Sanger is crazy, and I can't even deal with her speech. So I'm probably skipping it. Look for new speeches soon - if I don't start the project again, I've been told I'll lose my loyal readership.

In other business, on the right hand side under web links, you'll find a link to Little Lights Urban Ministries where I work. It's our brand new website and it has a blog! Where I'll be posting things regularly. Check there later today to see an update on Academic programs.

Cheers,
Sara

In the Meantime...

You know, when work and the achievement gap get you down, a little Tyra-Tyra and Next Top Model can pick you right back up.

Love it.

I'm totally baffled by today's speech.

There are some nice turns of phrase, but the themes seem confused and muddled. Right when they are about to take off and argue for a better world, she kills them. We're left with the frightening idea that the darkness is all we have.

I guess you can't win 'em all.

Well that's just wildly interesting. I had no idea I'd get a suffregette speech this morning. Nor that I'd learn how to make a woman a "nearly human thing".

I was amazed by how many of the platforms remain the same: Economic independence, reproductive choice, equal pay. And was amazed also about how far back the stereotype of men helpless in the house goes back. But I wonder how true it really was back then - I grew up all my life hearing stories of my Dad's Dad cooking, and he being the one to braid his daughter's hair. One of my Aunt's married a man who did all the cooking. Maybe they were above average, or maybe that stereotype wasn't true.

Reading this speech made me think of the Thin Man movie where Nick and Nora have a kid - there's a scene at the beginning where Nora (mind you one half of the detecting duo, and an equal partner) calls Nick and son into dinner, and there's a knowledge that while Nick can walk his son, bet on the races, drink like a fish and solve mysteries, Nora must do the same and order the house.

The raising feminist sons bit was really interesting, because I think that there's been a big movement to that. Now people worry about gender neutral toys and colors and clothes, a step or so past what this lady was talking about.

The movement I guess has at least been consistent, and I think also valuable at times. There's so much more choice for women today than even in my Mom's youth - when women mostly studied nursing or education at college. Today, all fields are open to us. Though I know many women who went to college for their Mrs. degrees, I know equally as many who went to get a great education and pursue their interests and passion.

I'm thinking right now of how shelter's for abused women came into being through grassroots efforts circa the 70s. Thinking of hearing how in the towns and cities, the women knew who among them was being hurt, and informal safe houses sprang up, regular homes of other women who would take the victims in - how the telephone chain would start up, and the women would reach into their resources to help their sister.

Which leads me to think that the women's liberation movement succeeds best when women act as women (a loaded concept, I know) rather than "militant", or "manly". Language provides this debate at it's reduced form in the b-word, which some women have tried to "reclaim" as a mark of equal acceptance with men. Shelter's happened not because women met in a boardroom, or formed a committee (though we're talented at both), but because they used their given sensitivity and nurturing nature to care for someone else. Men and women are different, and if we view the goals of the women's lib movement as being achieved when society can no longer tell the difference between men and women, then we are cheating ourselves and our daughters, not to mention our sons and brothers - terms for which there will be no use, if we are all the same.

Despite all of our choice, I think many women in my generation are confused about what to do with it. Some women want to be married and have babies and be a homemaker, but worry about being judged harshly by those women who chose their careers. Career women often feel judged by the homemakers for being somehow less of a woman. There's a lot of judgement on both sides. Unfortunately society's great answer to this was "you can have it all - career and family, and have to the exact extent you want it." In fact this was the theme of the commencement address at my college graduation. But no one can have it all. There are always choices, always sacrifices, something will be lost in the exchange - and that's okay, because the freedom to make the choice belongs to each of us. One woman's choice to be a homemaker doesn't take away from her identity as an intelligent woman, another's choice to work doesn't make her less of a woman.

The greater question here, and I think at the heart of much confusion for women my age is What does it mean to be a woman? I encountered the other day, a woman in a group of her mostly male colleagues who all worked in the field of researching military contracts. She swore profusely - equal to or exceeding her male co-workers, she was abrasive, and even the way she stood aped her male co-workers. The other women from that office had also adopted some of their counterparts traits, and from the coarse language to the coarse joking, they seemed not so much women, unique, interesting, beautiful and gifted, as people trying to fit in. It made me sad to feel they had given part of their identity up because of the idea that "we're just as good as the boys, in fact, we're one of the boys."

As for me, well I make a different choice. I like my pearls and my skirts, and I like my University Education, and I like my job. I don't get angry when the door is held open for me, but I'll make the choice about whether I walk through it or not. Perhaps too many women think that fighting for equality means being less of a woman, means sacrificing beauty and gentleness and other qualities, or that success in the fight means no longer being thought as a woman.

What does it mean to be a woman? It involves remembering that we weren't the afterthought of the creation story - the "Oh and by the way, here's Eve," we were the completion of it. There are women who are truly oppressed by patriarchal societies around the world, who are in fact dying because of them (consider the plight of a Muslim woman who lives at risk for breast cancer, but can't even talk about her breasts with a doctor). I am not oppressed, but I am bound as a human being, and a woman, to advocate for those who are.

Southern Gothic

I declare it. I declare this to be my favorite speech. Not because I like Huey P. Long though he embodies one of the last courthouse step politicians, nor because I agree with his economic policy which could be described as three sheets to the wind among other things, but because this speech is so deliciously Southern.

It's Faulkner and Flannery and Penn Warren all at once, it is their strangeness and lyricism. It's a speech that belongs to Boo Radley and to Atticus, though in a different way. And it is the utter madness of a people in a mouldering decay.

It's not hiding our demons, not hiding our crazy relatives in the attic, (no Dickinson, no Nathaniel Hawthorne). It's bringing them out on the front porch and saying "Take a look. Here they are - nutty, but bounden to us - and we to them."

Take note of the way Long forces those sacred economics, no more should the poor man say he shall get his reward in heaven, no it is his for the taking now, because (cue favorite Southern argument) God has ordained it, he has called us to the Barbecue.

Every man a king in two months! Hallelujah - the people must have thought it was the second coming. Why not to share wealth - t'aint fitting, just t'aint fitting.

Now each author has a slightly different take on the South. Seems there's hardly any grace in a Faulkner story, and it's difficult to find it in O'Connor despite her protestation that each of her grotesque characters come to a moment of it. But maybe part of that grace (in the liteary, everyday sense) is that we in the South are bound to recognize our triumphs and our successes, our heroes and our madmen. We deny neither for we know that in denying them, we deny ourselves.

Bad old Rockfeller. Bad old Morgan. Terrible FDR and Mr. Astor, didn't they know that the poor were only a part of them all, that denying them was denying their own selves. Why Gov. Long says it - under his plan everyone will be a millionaire, there'll be more than ever. In under two months.

How that must have sounded to a people close to the earth and poor. We'll remember it in ever widening ripples of our collective memory, though we're forgetting most of it. There's little South any more. The New South keeps Boo and Long locked away, but they're a part of us too - there's a little madness and maybe much greatness in each of us.