Suffering

No one likes to suffer. We don't even like paper cuts, for heaven's sake. They hurt, and we would rather not be inflicted by them. We don't like to struggle, we don't like to hurt, we don't like to be confused. And I don't think these "preferences" are bad; I think they are human. After all, even Christ, as fully human, did not want to suffer! (Matthew 26:38-39)

So, I'm suffering. I'll just admit it. The reasons are private and even too intimate for me to feel like typing (odd, yes?!), but suffice it to say that we would like the prayers of heaven and the planets and all the stars. We would like to have something that might not end up being our gift, and, as an American, as a woman, as a human being!, I don't like being told "no, that's not possible for you." What? Sorry, but don't you know, Mr. God, that come hell or high water, I eventually get what I want? Or, I just change my mind and then that "becomes" what I want? Steve and I are suffering, and we just don't want to. It hurts and it is difficult, and I know in this cross we will find joy and some kind of peace, but I don't want to go through the cross to find the happiness. I'd rather it be given to me easily.

I heard in a talk the other day we should be like little children, with our hands open, patiently waiting for the gifts God will give us. We should stand, with our faces towards God and heaven, being grateful for what is freely given and not grasping at things or people or stuff or hopes or, I guess, anything (Phil 2:6). We are to gladly accept what is given to us by our Father and not reach for those cookies in the cabinet (even if they are Girl Scout ones). If we can be like this, we can live our lives in complete and constant thanksgiving for the gifts we receive, rather than being bitter or resentful or feeling like life is unfair for the gifts we DON'T receive!

Jesus and all the saints and the stars in the heavens, help me to suffer with courage and peace of mind and stillness, and help me receive your undeserved graces gladly!

The N Word

Please help me understand. Please explain this God-forsaken, backward, racist, twisted society we call America. Or maybe it's humankind.

A child gets on a school bus, on his way home. His bus is commonly referred to as the "ghetto bus" because all the black kids ride it. The black kids get on the bus each day, hollering "What's up, nigger?!" to everyone--black, yellow, green and white. The student claims they say this to any shade of boy--as a form of greeting, term of endearment, casual hello, salute. When this child, though, says it in return, he gets pushed down in the bus aisle and kicked. His backpack is thrown and ripped open and he's in jeopardy of suspension. Why? Because he said "nigger" and he's white.

I am so angry and disgusted. What has happened? We are afraid of each other. No one knows anyone anymore. Everyone has their face in an Iphone and their ears plugged by music. This weekend at our local mall (I feel like my grandmother), the young adults (do I dare call them students??) were walking around with their pants below their private parts, the zippers to their belly buttons and their tattoos, earrings, foul language and overbearing, invasive, entitled behavior assaulting my senses and my children. Jacob looked horrified. Steve looked worse.

What has happened? How did the bus--with all its American history steeped in civil rights--become racist itself? My child, my white son, is afraid now to get on his bus because he's not a "nigger." He can't say it, he can't even acknowledge they're speaking to him. He has to sit and take it and hope he's quiet enough no one notices.

Hmmm. Sounds like angry racism to me. Thank you, Mr. President, for breaking all the glass ceilings. The shards are falling on your very own children.