Social Commentary

I have too long neglected this blog of mine.  I’m going to try to be better.  Regular life consumes you, you know?  My kids are insane, my job is demanding, and I have to have some peace.  Writing used to be my peace, and now I’m going to make it happen again. As of recently, I’ve been a bit outspoken about the current political and social climate.  Ok, so that’s not actually “recently.”  I’ve always been this way. My poor mother.  I think I’m slowly killing her.  I’ve apologized multiple times to her because she unwillingly gave birth to an activist. For those of you who I am friends with (and my equally poor family) who are starting to believe that I’ve gone off the liberal deep-end, I want to explain how I arrived at my certain set of conclusions. Disclaimer:  I’m not baiting anyone with this post.  If you respond to this with anything other than civil discord, please use the backspace button liberally.  I am simply offering an ideology that explains me, my viewpoints, and my beliefs.  I’m not trying to change your mind about anything.  There’s this cool thing about the internet:  you can see something you disagree

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I want to write about fun things again. But I simply have no motivation with the way things are right now. Maybe one day I can get back to posting regularly and it will uplift your spirits in the way my words used to. But my heart is sad and my fingers just can’t seem to find the right words to give you much anymore. I had to excuse myself from the end of a family gathering this morning. I had held it in as long as I could and I couldn’t hide it anymore. Ben came to wrap his arms around me because he knew what was happening and I fell apart as soon as I smelled his cologne so close to my nose. I begged him to not ever let it be him. It can’t be him. We need him too much. Yet again, three more brothers in blue won’t ever walk the streets again. Three more brothers lost in this endless game of us versus them and them versus us. At first, I say to myself that I don’t know what we are doing to each other or how we got here. But then I realize that

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I was angry yesterday.  I woke up to the news of the 5 Dallas police officers killed and the 6 others wounded, and I was stunned. Anger ruled me for a good hour as I wept in my hotel bed and through my shower. I had to shield my children’s eyes from the newscast when they began to show the chaos from the night before. JP screamed, “DA DA!!!!” when he saw the flashing blue lights. No one was speaking during continental breakfast, and I noticed the black woman leaning over her eggs and bagel as she seemed terrified to make eye contact with anyone in the room. I had the urge to go hug her, but I didn’t want to draw attention to someone who really looked like she would rather disappear. Luckily, I had a seven hour drive ahead of me, and I was able to tune out the news and think. I thought about how easily this could be my husband or his best friends. No amount of training or confidence could have saved those officers. It was an ambush, plain and simple. I thought about how easily my children could be without a father, and how

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I am absolutely horrified by the reaction of the internet to the mass shooting at an Orlando gay nightclub on Saturday night. When I woke up on Sunday morning (just like Hillary Clinton did, what a shocker) to see the news of this tragedy, my only thoughts were of how horrible this was.  Yet another shooting in our homeland.  Americans were killed.  They were gay?  Oh gosh.  This was obviously a targeted attack.  Why do we all have to hate each other so much? Places my head didn’t go:  How can we make this Obama’s fault?  Or Trump’s fault?  Hillary’s?  CNN?  Islam?  Christianity?  LGBT?  Guns?  Assault rifles? But you – your head went there. And then you went to Facebook.  And Twitter.  And you filled it up with horrible things. Things about how this was due justice to the LGBT community.  Or you tried to make it not about the LGBT community, and only Islamic terrorism.  Or you decided that Christians were obviously to blame since we’ve been so vocal about our bigotry towards the LGBT community.  Or that God has left the country and this is what we’re left with.  Or religion is the downfall of modern society.  Or you

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I know you’ve seen the news story by now of Stanford swimmer, Brock Turner, who raped an unconscious woman laying behind a dumpster after a party. If you’ve heard about that, you’ve also heard about how he’s only receiving 6 months in jail as punishment because the judge felt that a longer sentence would have too serious of an impact on him, as a 19 year old boy. If this doesn’t make you physically sick to your stomach, you probably won’t like the rest of what I’m about to say. Because I am disgusted. Before you read anything else, I suggest that you read the victim’s statement here. It’s powerful, it’s poignant, and she deserves to be heard – for herself and all rape victims. I am not a rape victim. I’ve never been sexually assaulted, save the one guy who decided to try to stick his hand up my dress on Bourbon Street, to which I promptly had him and his friends kicked out of the bar. I don’t pretend to know how rape victims feel or how they live the rest of their lives permanently scarred from an unwelcomed encounter, and the subsequent unwelcomed criticism about their situation. Because

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Today is June 6th. As the Greatest Generation passes away rapidly in front of our eyes, I wonder if we’ll be able to give them their deserved honor to future generations.  I’m not so sure that the ages after me will feel the emotion and the respect that has always been felt on this day, having never sat at the feet of these men and women and listened to their stories. Stories of hard work, determination, and love of country.  Stories of incredible heartbreak, loss of life, and grave sacrifice.  Stories of a simpler time when tragedy brought the world together, instead of dividing it.  Understanding that the sacrifice of one life meant the salvation of so many more.  Knowing that fighting for the rights of freedom from dictatorship and tyranny meant fighting for all people, not just Americans.  Serving your country any way you could – going to war, going to work, buying war bonds, gathering scrap metal. Not only were they the Greatest Generation because they lived through the Great Depression and served through World War II, but they saw so much more.  They returned home to deliver the United States from financial ruin.  They raised children with morals and

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I didn’t set an alarm today. You probably didn’t either. I woke up to the sounds of my children, fixed my weekend size cup of coffee, and at the time I’m usually rolling up to my office, I’m watching Real Housewives in my pajamas while my children are destroying something, I’m sure, in a bedroom in the back. We will head over to my mom’s in a bit for some pool time while Ben grills our dinner. Happy Memorial Day! But I can’t help but feel guilty on a day like today. Especially for calling it “happy.” For so many, today is not a happy day. Today is a day they visit a white cross in a field of white crosses. Or they sit silently at a bar and order an extra drink for an empty seat. Or they attend a service for their fallen brothers. Or they spend the day locked in the torture of their own minds, wondering why they made it home when so many didn’t. Today is not a happy day. So while you gather around your barbecues and American flag beer cans, or boating on the lake, or shopping the appliance sales, or doing yard work, or staying

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To many modern day feminists, the words “Christian feminist” will automatically seem like an oxymoron.  I can hear it now.  How can a religion that boasts suppressing women and orders them to be submissive to their husbands be a religion that also allows for feminine power?  To those points, I have several arguments to how they just aren’t true, but that’s a post for another day. There’s also a viral post about not being a feminist, that I take some issue with.  I’m going to chalk it up to the author of that article being a little immature and under-experienced. But there absolutely is such a thing as a Christian Feminist.  I am one.  I am proud to say it.  I may not hit these marks 100% of the time, but I strive daily. A Christian Feminist is a woman who recognizes the design of an Ultimate Creator, who created man and woman differently, and called them both “very good.”  God found that it was not good for man to be alone, so He designed a woman to be his counterpart, his companion, and his helpmate.  With that natural and very good design, women were created to be everything that

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Sorry, kids.  I’m not that Mom. Your Elf will just do one thing your whole life.  It’s really what it’s intended to do.  The whole book is about it. (If you read the book, it will tell you exactly what your Elf actually does…) Your Elf will just sit on a Shelf. It might move a couple of times, but honestly, that little Elf is not my priority during the Christmas season.  Or ever. There will be no grand entrances, no gifts from him, no outfit changes.  You won’t find him riding dinosaurs, waltzing with Barbie, or leading a choir of little green army men. You definitely won’t find him making sugar angels or pooping on cookies.  (This is legit.) You will go to school and all your friends will be telling about how they found their Elf hang-gliding from the ceiling fan or in a sink full of marshmallows, and you will sadly say, “My Elf was sitting in the exact same place as it was yesterday.  On a Shelf.” And it’s fine for your friends’ parents to move it around every day and recreate clever ideas they saw on Pinterest.  If they would like to stay up an extra

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I was going to hold my tongue about this.  I really was.  But I don’t do that very well.  The decision to hold my tongue lasted less than 24 hours. I’m having a really hard time with you all lately.  Especially with your Facebook posts.  Come on.  All the fear-mongering and politics touting and shouting ‘MERICA is really grinding on my gears.  Especially when your posts about how all Muslims are terrorists and we should just nuke them all is followed by a post about how much you love Jesus. Yeh.  No. I even saw a post that said something of how our being a Christian has nothing to do with not wanting Syrian refugees in our country.  I think we’ve got something backwards here. Our Christianity should have everything to do with our politics and how we choose to vote, the candidates we support, and the laws that we want pushed through. If your politics are not shaped by your Christianity, you have it wrong. Really, everything should be shaped by your Christianity.  Everything.  Your world views, your decisions, your money, your charity…everything. Let’s not forget a few things that are important as we face the major Syrian refugee crisis.

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