Friday, March 30, 2007

Valley of the Shadow of Death

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” That KJV verse of the 23rd Psalm has been stuck in my head recently. These words have always been comforting to me when I’ve faced any difficulty. So here we are approaching Holy Week, the week when we remember Jesus’ last days, and I began to wonder if these words were comforting to him as he faced Jerusalem and the darkness which was ahead.

Heading into Jerusalem with his disciples, Jesus knew that the cheering crowds welcoming him would have a change of heart. As he entered town, did he think that he was at the edge of that valley? Did he say to himself over the hosannas!, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”?

As Jesus prepared for the Passover meal, the last supper when he once again taught his disciples about his definition of ministry and gave them a new meaning for a familiar ritual, was he also aware that he had walked deeper into the shadow? As he broke the bread and poured the wine, did he say to himself, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.”?

Knowing that his arrest was coming soon, when they left the place of the Passover and entered the Garden of Gethsemane, did the fear which struck him and led him to pray, “If it be possible, take this cup from me, but your will, not mine, be done.” remind him that he was not only in the shadow of the valley, but approaching the bottom? Could it be that the comfort of “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” made it possible for him to say “Not my will, but yours.”?

As he was beaten and scourged, subjected to the mockery of a trial, forced to carry his cross to Golgotha, nailed to it, and hung between two felons, could Jesus have felt that there was no shadow about this valley, that he was actually in the valley of death? Did “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” make it possible for him to take each step, endure each painful hour, experience his painful death?

In the Apostles’ Creed, we are reminded that Jesus descended into hell, walking completely through the valley of the shadow of death before overcoming death in resurrection. Did “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.” give him the strength to fulfill his baptism in death and rise again to life eternal?

There is comfort in knowing that one is not alone in even the darkest hours. Scripture reminds us of that. Perhaps that is why these words are so comforting, so quickly come to mind in the dark times. While there is no way to know it for sure, I’d like to think these are words that comforted Jesus in the same way. Because beyond the certainty of companionship in the darkness, there is a second assurance: that one does not stay in the valley of the shadow of death, and in this assurance lies hope! A hope which carried Jesus, and us, beyond our fears into life eternal!

Monday, March 26, 2007

Question of Degree

Yes, I'm just now getting around to reading Sunday's paper.

In our local paper, the opinions editor did his Sunday OpEd piece on the Tokyo firebombing from World War II. In it, he expresses surprise that the people of Japan are suing the Japanese government over the bombing, not the American government.

The logic of the suit is that the Japanese government caused the attack by starting an unprovoked war with the United States, and then not taking care of the victims of the attack on Tokyo afterward. "Accordingto to the Kyodo News agency, the 112 plaintiffs accuse the Japanese government with failing to help bombing victims and - get this - starting the war and refusing to surrender, thereby inviting the raid." He then goes on to detail some of the various atrocities committed by the Japanese during WWII, and notes that Japan and Germany "have no one to blame but themselves for the devastation of their countries during the war. They attacked other nations - many of which were defenseless and posed zero threat to them - and did horrible things to millions of people. Because of that, they deserve every bit of the counterattack that followed." (T. Taschinger, Beaumont Enterprise, 3/25/07)

I acknowledge that the scale of atrocity, loss of life, devastation which took place during WWII is far and beyond anything which has occurred, or will occur, during the current war with Iraq. But is it 'scale' which determines whether a country is 'deserving' of any counterattack it receives as a result of an unwarranted assault of another country?

I couldn't help but read his editoral as moral justification for any group of native Iraqis who may in the future decide to exact retribution against the United States for its unprovoked attack, and subsequent loss of life and upheaval, upon their country. Does that mean the people of the United States should sue our own government for such a breach if (when?) there is another attack on American soil by terrorists "home-grown" as a result of our government's course of action in Iraq?

When GW Bush decided to invade Iraq, there was no clear evidence that the Iraqi government or people had anything whatsoever to do with the terrorist attack on American soil of 9/11. Subsequent investigation and information pretty clearly says that they weren't. Thus, our attack on Iraq would qualify as unprovoked.

The scale of lives lost by Iraqis and Americans and allies is nowhere close to that of WWII; however, any loss of life as a result is significant. The U.S. has acknowledged, and fortunately dealt with, such acts as Abu Ghraib and the rape/murders committed on Iraqi soil. Yet the reality is that they did occur. Smaller, almost trivial (as if any behavior such as those acts could ever be called 'trivial'), in comparison to the actions of Japan and Germany in WWII, yet they happened. The devastation to the country and its infrastructure has been immense, and has ultimately facilitated the on-going sectarian violence which exists today. [aside - there will be those who say that anything which occurred as a result of our invasion is considerably less damage than that perpetrated by Saddam Hussein during his rule. I don't deny that Hussein was a tyrant and mass murderer and probably a worthy candidate for removal from office. That is not the issue which I am addressing.]

By Taschinger's basic logic, should we experience another attack on American soil, we would be fully deserving and a trip to the local courthouse for judgment would be completely appropriate. I wonder whether those going to court will choose to sue the American government as a whole or just GW Bush and company.

Friday, March 23, 2007

Nostalgia

It was one of those moments. The only sounds - birds chirling and chirrupping, mourning doves cooing their mournful sound in a quiet, blurred conversation. The sun shining at just the right angle. A hint of cool in the warming air. And I was transported back to my childhood.

I remember mornings like this when I was a little girl. The house we lived in wasn't air conditioned, so the windows were open for the breeze wafting crisply through the rooms. Sometimes you'd hear a woodpecker going after the bugs in the trees or bees buzzing around the rosebushes just outside my bedroom. Now and then a car would start up and leave the double cul-de-sac. And, if it was early enough, you'd hear the donkey down the road braying loudly for his breakfast. hee - HAW. ... hee -HAW. ... hee - HAW. ... he-haw-he-haw-he-haw-he-haw!

On days like these, I'd be in my bedroom until it was "time to get up". I had one of those wonderful beveled mirrors above my dresser, and I remember finding just the right place to stand/sit so you looked really large or really tiny. It was so much fun spending time standing up, and sitting down, and standing up, and sitting down, just watching my size change back and forth. The fascinations of childhood.

It was just one of those moments. Transient. Catapulted to a fond memory of the past. All too short. Magic!

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Progress

Inch by inch. Layer by layer. Mile of painter's tape by mile of painter's tape. Progress is happening. S-l-o-w-l-y.

This week I had the new garbage disposer installed, and learned that my dishwasher actually does work. Good news! One less thing that has to be replaced. The painting in the kitchen is completed, so the tape and coverings are now down.

I've discovered that it will cost about the same to re-tile my shower as it will to put in cultured marble. Now all I've got to do is contact the insurance company to get approval to go ahead with something. It's especially important since either way I go, it'll cost almost double what the insurance company allowed for the job.

Since I've been doing the contracting myself, I have a little bit extra for doing a couple of things that are best done while the house is in disarray: replace the linoleum in the kitchen and put in a new sliding glass door and front door. Both have their problems. And while I painted, I discovered that there's a whole lot of heat transfer at the doors. Energy efficiency is not their strong suit at the moment.

My "demon wall" in the dining room is beginning to look normal. It doesn't quite look like I threw blood at it any more. It's almost actually looking like it's supposed to. I think one more coat of paint will do it. *fingers crossed* Still a ways to go on the painting. There's trim and a bathroom, the rest of the laundry room and a little hallway, and that'll be done.

Now I think I'm going to work on stripping the paint - the paint that I'm wearing, that is. I may someday not look like a harlequin. At least I like the colors!

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Morning Musings

For some bizarre reason, I can't get one of the commercials for the latest Will Ferrell movie out of my brain. It's a stupid, stupid commercial, and there's no way on the face of the earth I'd ever go to see it. I wouldn't even pay money to rent it. Besides the fact that I don't particularly care for Ferrell as an actor, the commercial shows that the premise and the acting are outrageously over the top. I simply don't waste good time or money on movies like that.

Yet I can almost tell you that the moral of the story will be of redeeming value, involving overcoming prejudice and triumphing over hatreds and biases. So maybe the movie itself will accomplish something that a more subtle telling of a similar story wouldn't.

If you don't know what movie I'm talking about, it's the one where two male figure skating rivals attack each other, are permanently banned from "men's figure skating", and then find a loophole to compete together in pairs. I figure (no pun intended) that the finale of the movie will be them skating the perfect routine and wowing the judges, thus forcing the judges to declare them the winners, to the ultimate adoration of the crowds they've won over. Actually, there's a part of me that wouldn't mind seeing something like that in real life. (Well, not the vicious rivalry and fighting part, but a well-matched pair, regardless of gender.)

Anyway, that earworm of a commercial got me to thinking about the tv show Scrubs. When it first came on, I tried to watch it once or twice. ACK! I absolutely detest such obviously cartoon-like acting. Five minutes, tops, was all I managed. Then my son came home. He likes the show. Being an adult and deciding to act that way, I "suffered" through it ... and have discovered some redeeming value in the process. There's generally a fairly solid life message embedded in the stories told, the kind of message that encourages relationship and growth and acknowledgement of our humanity. Scrubs will probably not rest on my "Top 10 Favorite TV Shows" list, but perhaps I've gotten past a bit of my own bias and prejudice in the process.

You still won't catch me paying money or wasting time to see the Will Ferrell movie!

Then, my eye was caught by a billboard for a local Christian academy, and I began to wonder if there exist any Christian schools that operate from a liberal theology. And, if not, then why haven't liberal Christians started any? There certainly aren't any in this neck of the Bible Belt.

Arriving at home, I pulled out the trusty Google search engine (at any rate, the more familiar to me Google search engine - we at least tend to think alike when searching). First, I tried "Christian school" and liberal. After getting umpty-thousand hits and looking at the first page or two, began shedding entries with words like "arts" and "college" in them. Still too many hits. And most of the ones in the first pages were conservative Christian school diatribes against liberal thought.

That wasn't working. Next tack - "liberal Christian school". That got me to a more manageable 174 hits. However, on the first two pages, most of the hits were either references to colleges or were commentary against liberal Christian schools. If you delete all references to college, you end up with 4 hits, and none of those had to do with actual places of education, but rather the "liberal Christian school of thought" or the like.

Either there aren't any, which probably isn't the case, or they choose not to identify themselves as liberal. Perhaps there's something oxymoronic about the term "liberal Christian school". In any case, it's something for me to ponder at a later date.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Booby Smush

Yesterday I took care of an annual obligation. It's not something I particularly enjoy, partly because there is an embarrasing component to it. It's not particularly painful, though there has usually been some discomfort involved. In the grand scheme of things, it's a momentary inconvenience; however, it is vital to one's health and well-being. I went for my mammogram.

It was actually a positive experience!

The Dauphin Center at Memorial Hermann Baptist in Beaumont opened in 2006, so it's pretty new. Sign-in didn't take long at all. When my name was called, I was taken back to the changing area, told to do the usual upper body disrobing, and asked to put my stuff in a locker with a key to take with me.

Figuring I was going to get the usual skimpy scratchy paper gown, I was surprised to see what looked almost like a terrycloth bathrobe waiting in the dressing room. When I picked it up to put it on, I was absolutely astonished. It was warm!! Even though they have to keep the equipment area cool, they were considerate enough to do what they could to keep their patients comfortable.

After changing and locking up my stuff, I had a few minutes before the mammogram. The waiting area was comfortable, with bottled water and coffee available. Now, I don't drink coffee, but if I did ... well, there was a veritable "Starbucks" of choices available. Chocolate coffee, raspberry coffee, mint coffee, about 20 different types to choose from. WOW!

Since I was the second appointment after lunch, I didn't have long to wait. If you've never had a mammogram before, you get to stand next to the x-ray machine while the technician places your boob in the appropriate spot, body draped in semi-awkward position around the machine, then this clear plastic shape is lowered onto the boob, smushing it into the proper configuration. That's the part I've never liked, and it's often been just beyond discomfort into the realm of painful. Not here. The Dauphin Center has a digital mammogram machine and it apparently doesn't have to smush quite as hard as the regular machines do.

Four poses. Four smushes. Four bzzzt's. And it was over. No "wait here for a few minutes while I check to see if the pictures came out ok." No retakes. I was free to change clothes and go. Marvelous!

The staff of the Center was wonderful. Just the right balance of caring and professionalism. I usually figure I'm a rather glorious shade of red throughout the entire experience. Not this time. The people knew what they were doing and went about their business without me feeling I was on the spot and exposed.

Won't have the results back for about a week, so I won't be disclosing either rejoicing or fear right now. I'm not anticipating a negative result, but you never can tell. That's why one's annual mammogram is so important. It's an opportunity to take action early enough to make a difference if there is a problem.

Ladies, please do whatever you have to do to have an annual mammogram. I'm lucky. My insurance thinks it's such an important preventative test that they completely cover the cost. If you don't have insurance, check with your local breast cancer association. There are resources available to cover the cost based on ability to pay, free if you don't have the bucks or insurance. This is important stuff. Please, please, please don't neglect it.

Also, please don't neglect something simple you can do on a monthly basis - a self-exam. If you feel a lump or any abnormality, get thee to a physician ASAP! It may mean the difference between life and death. (OK - some of you may believe you're indestructible and that death is a century or two away. You may be right. Yet you may also be felled by something that seems so trivial as a little blip on a breast. Please don't take any chances.)

And, Gentlemen, while it occurs more rarely in men, this is not a "ladies only" disease. Breast cancer doesn't care about your gender when it decides to strike. That self-exam? Wouldn't hurt for you to do that, too. None of your friends would have to know about it, since you do it in the shower. At the first sign of a lump or bump, get it checked. We ladies enjoy having you around! Wouldn't want to lose you to breast cancer either.

So, ladies, if you haven't done it already, it's 2007. Time to schedule your annual booby smush. *chuckle*

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Odd Moment

Are sneezes something like yawns? Are they something you can 'catch' from someone else? Or if someone mentions them, do you suddenly feel the urge to sneeze? Or was this truly a coincidence?

Here I was working the crossword puzzle and the clue was "It often evokes a blessing". My brain said "sneeze". I did.

Of course, there aren't enough letters in the answer for 'sneeze' to be correct, but it was a rather odd moment. *chuckle*

The correct answer was "Achoo".

Gesundheit!

Saturday, March 03, 2007

Mini-Rant

Headline: Police arrest girls, bank teller in heist

The story? "Police arrested two 19-year-old girls ..."

AHEM! Those 19-year-olds aren't girls. They are women!!

As I read the headline, I figured some bank teller colluded with some 15-16 year olds and attempted to rob a bank. True, teenagers that age are sometimes bound over for trial as adults; however, as a society, we tend to consider youth that age as 'not responsible' in an adult way for their actions. Parents or other legal guardians must be notified and involved in any legal proceedings, unless the young person has been legally emancipated. Generally, such a young person is tried in the juvenile justice system, unless there are some extraordinary circumstances involved.

Then you hit 18.

Eighteen is when young people are considered adult and parents/legal guardians drop out of the legal picture. No longer are parents/guardians required for the now-adult to receive medical care. No longer do parents/guardians automatically receive information from schools or physicians about their 'young charges', unless said 'young charges' give written permission for the information to be shared. And, no longer must parents/guardians be contacted before police interrogate them when a crime has been committed.

Excuse me! At that point, it's time to drop the term "girl" and shift to "woman". I'm curious. Would the Associated Press have even reported the robbery if it had been two 19-year-old "boys" (to be consistent in terminology) committing the crime? If they had, would the term "boys" have even been used?

Personally, the terms "girl" and "boy" used to describe those who are legally adult infantilizes the person described. It says at a subconscious level that the person should not be held completely accountable for their actions, and should still be under the guidance and tutelage of someone older, someone who's truly adult. It says that the person is not capable of completely understanding the consequences of their actions, and it says that the person is not capable of functioning as an adult. (Although, I suspect that at this moment those young women are wishing that were true.)

I realize that the usage of "girl" and "boy" to describe young adults (and, not so young adults in some cultural settings) won't be ended simply because I get on my high horse whenever I see/hear it used. However, I have a hard time letting it go without saying something.

Ok. I'm through now, boys and girls, er ...... ladies and gentlemen. ;) Carry on.

Friday, March 02, 2007

A Splash of Paint

Well, the walls have been splashed with color. But the task's not completed. The den's finished and looks beautiful. The entry hallway is partially splashed, and the bright yellow is especially cheery. It shouldn't take too long to finish it. Most of the kitchen is gently painted with a soft white and looks fresh. The only part I couldn't get to there is filled with my piano and the one chair that didn't get relocated to the garage. Primer coats cover all those places that still need painting, so all that needs to happen is to show up in painting garb and start working.

And then there's the dining room.

The color is to be a rich, deep, purplish wine color. The first coat looked more like a watercolor wash than latex paint and used almost half a gallon of paint. For the second coat, I really loaded the paintbrush and had a difficult time getting it to cover the light spots. To put it mildly, the dining room sucks. The color isn't the color it's supposed to be. It looks almost like I painted with blood instead of latex paint. Gross, I know.

So I head back to the local paint store with gallon in hand to ask if perhaps I had a defective gallon of paint. There I learn that I should have been told about some kind of gray primer paint that helps "red toned" paints cover well. I also learn that in order to find out if it's actually defective paint (instead of defective information), I have to get the local paint company rep to actually come to my house and look at the walls. The local rep lives in Houston, and didn't answer his cellphone. *sigh* I hope I can get hold of him tomorrow. It puts a hold on my finishing the painting part of my 'return to home' project.

I'm currently not completely sure who I should be angry with - the store where I bought the paint or the paint company. Whichever, I'm not a happy camper! This was not what I needed this week. I think I'm going to just go over here and grump in the corner for a while. Don't mind me. I'll get over it!