Specs in the Universe

Every once in a while we meet people that are self centered, selfish, and rude.  Even if you would want to (which I don't) there is no point in trying to disguise the truth of their description.  As a matter of fact,  there are a couple of more adjectives that could have been employed and were not!  When you do come across them, it's hard not to become infuriated because they just (bottom line) piss you off.


People that have the liability of being to full of themselves don't realize that we are merely specs in the Universe.  Have you ever wondered in awe just gazing up to sky at night?  Looking at all those stars up there, most are not even there anymore.  Just amazed that you are alive.  Most of all,  you just wonder why are we so full of sh...t.  We are merely one particle in this world, if we think about the Universe we're not even close of being a particle.  Our Island with it's four million in population in a particle in the Universe.

We have so much that we can offer and do for others.  We can come together as we collaborate with one another as we  build a community where we can all live in peace with one another.  For this to become a reality, we need to be tuned in with our inner empathy.  Most relationships today are built upon a "need".  I'm not talking about "need" in a good way, but in a way that we usually are seeking something we "need" when calling or getting acquainted with people.  I've heard more than once the phrase, "they call if they need something".  What a pity!  The beauty of society is that we can build something beautiful out of mutual need.   This "need" is where mutual companionship, respect, friendship and love are combined together and we have the opportunity to give and receive. Don't ever doubt that giving is as important as receiving.

Life is but only a minute in eternity.  What we do with that minute is up to us.  If your not sure where you stand, just take a moment and look at the sky during the night.  That's what I do, so I don't get to full of myself. You may feel amazed of how fast you forget about yourself and think about where we stand in the Universe.  So, the next time you stumble upon a rude, selfish, loud and full of himself or herself person just think about the Universe and they wont seem as important anymore.

(Photo credit: http://www.universetoday.com/36425/the-universe/)

Coming to Life: A Liberating Experience

The Holy Week has become something that means so many different things to so many different people.  For some it's about getting some time off work  or school, and for others it's all about the Christian celebration.  Sorry if I'm not politically correct for citing or using something I heard at church, (but as they say you need to be careful with what you say because as soon as those words come out of your mouth you've lost the power over them, they become public domain) whereas it was being said that it's okay to go to the beach on Saturday, but we better be in church on Friday.   That "better" was said in a solemn foreshadowing tone as to doom and destruction will overcome your life any minute after you dare to think of missing on those exciting "Seven Words" we all know by heart.

Our Holy Week church programs have become a routine, once a year, celebrations.  We listen to the same old, same old each year.  Why don't we try to get something new out of it this year?  You would think to yourself is that possible? This lady has to be nuts!  Jesus begins entering Jerusalem on a donkey on Sunday, dies during the week and we witness his resurrection on Sunday and then take our kids egg hunting with the cute little bunny and all that candy pumping through their veins, so it's more than certain will end up exhausted after trying to pull and push them until they finally fall asleep.  Once it's over, we wont remember about it until after Valentine next year.  So, what was exactly behind all that mumbo jumbo anyway?

This year so I can keep my 2013 resolution on track (as to "being truthful to myself at all times" with roughly translates into not taking crap from anyone) I'm approaching the Holy Week with a totally different approach.  Some may say irreverent or non-appropriate after reading my post's title because the reader may think it's about sex, but for the writer it's just fine anyway.  What is it with sex anyway?  God created us sexual beings, He made us in a way that not only we can reproduce ourselves, but also we can have plenty of fun as we do it.  Sexual fun and pleasure is definitely something very liberating, it frees our minds and spirits if and when we're with  the right person. You just don't get more honest than that.  When your engaging in sex there is no hiding, your partner, spouse, girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever you want to call that person will see you as you are.  Naked!   Maybe your thinking right now as to what in the world does this have to do with the Holy Week?

This is a no brainer answer, it's all about the Holy Week.  Don't take me wrong your not going to find anything related to this in the Scripture or any theology that will try to prove something, but me or you can not deny that this is the same way God sees us.  Naked! We can't hide anything from him, He sees us as we are.  Naked on the outside and in the inside.



Let us believe that this Holy Week can bring us back to life and at the same time we may feel liberated enough to begin seeing ourselves like God does and make the changes we need to make.  Not because Jesus is being crucified all over again or because He will rise from the Hades and return to his Father's presence and become one with Him, but because deep inside us the breaking news of his sacrifice is still fresh and alive.  That we are not part of that anonymous crowd cheering as He passed and then witnessing his death without even raising a finger to stop it.  That we don't act like that same crowd when they dispersed among the Hebrew community in the Roman Empire, but act as the loving community of faith we're intended to be.  That we are able to witness that our Lord was sent to the death row by his own people's desire of blood shedding, and learn that sending our own criminals to the death row would prove nothing useful other than satisfying our own need of blood shedding.  That we are no different from them, but anyway God has loved us enough to try to continue to rescue our souls into eternity.

Lets us come to life, not as the persons we were but a much better version of it.  I'm more than sure that this is what this is all about.  Coming to life, enjoying the process and becoming liberated of the nonsense we tend to surround ourselves around.  I only wish for myself and for anyone else that is willing to shed our garments of purity (that's sarcastic by the way) to receive the news of salvation as a wide eyes open experience where hiding in those same garments isn't an option anymore.

(Photo credits: Stephanie Quintana, Sunflowers 2010 "The Miracle of God's Creation")

A Cry From Heaven

 As my nephew slash,  godchild slash,  son dozes into la la land every night he loves to caress my face with his  tiny and soft hands.    I really can't figure out why he does this, probably it makes him feel safe.  He's been doing it for a while, but I can't pinpoint when he exactly began this little routine.  He's turning 23 months old this next Sunday, he's only one month away from entering "the terrible twos" as they call them.  Like any innocent child, Ian trusts me beyond anything else.  He knows that if anything happens to him, as he calls out my name I will rush to his side to try my best to fix whatever is wrong. Tonight as he performs his little routine my thoughts rush off to a family that lost their six month old infant as he suffocated to death because his daddy forgot he was in the car.

In it's alarming statistics  the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) has informed that from 1998 to 2012 five hundred twenty seven (527) children have died of suffocation.  Basically these children were left by their parents in the car to die.   For the last couple of days as the news of this senseless death is covered by the media, my husband has tried to bring up the topic a couple of times to which I always answer with a frown and a "don't want to know anything about that terrible accident".    As I call it an accident I wonder if it truly was an accident.  Accidents can't be avoided and this little baby's death could have been.  The few facts I know about the family is that his dad worked in a Toyota dealer (where the baby boy actually passed away) and his mom is a special ed teacher, and that they had planned this baby.  Planning means taking time to think things over, to wait for the right time, to have enough space in your home to receive the newest and most precious member of the house, but above all when we plan something it's because we really want it to happen.

So, what happened along the way?  Do we become so caught up  in the things we need to do because of a job or any other thing that we oversee the really important things.  How can a dad just forget his precious cargo was with him, what thoughts rushed through his mind as he closed the door and forgot about his baby?  I don't know,  neither do I want to know the baby's name because I would begin getting to know him on a more personal level which would make things even more difficult for me. I don't want to be judgmental of the father because he has enough to bear with as it is.   

 Although this is an immense tragedy it gives us the opportunity of learning from it.  All parents around the world should create awareness of the importance of double checking your child's safety at all times at all places.  For which, every time I put Ian in his car seat I open the driver's door up front before closing the side of my mini van because by no chance do I want the doors closed as I still am standing outside of the vehicle. Sometimes as I slide the door and it closes and he is not able to see me he calls out, "mama!!!" with a little distress, to which I always answer with an " I'm right here sweetie".  

I'm more than careful with these precautions due to another story about a two year old  that died suffocated after her mom left her in the car and stepped into her office leaving her to die alone. Often I would think about the little girl calling her mommy's name as she suffocated;  I would think about the heat she took inside that car; and, I would think about how she cried.  Those terrible thoughts haunted me taking my inner peace as my heart went out to that child.  

More than once I've thought about what happens to us when we die?  Does an angel sent by God come to take us to heaven?  I really do hope so because this is the only thing that can take the suffering away when thinking of all the innocent children that die each year because their daddies or mommies forget about them and leave them to die in the car.  Each and every time one of his youngest die,  our loving heavenly  Father wails so strong and loud that it has to resemble the fury of the winds of a hurricane.  We can find stories of angels throughout the bible, but the one that stands out among them all, is when Lazarus dies and as we read in Luke 16:22 it says  "the angels carried the spirit of Lazarus to Abraham's bosom when he died".  Angels were sent by our Father to carry his spirit in a soft and gentle way, taking him home.  I'm more than sure that the spirit of the baby boy was also taken by angels that not delivered his spirit to Abraham but returned it to God himself because He as his loving father would never leave him uncared for.       


 (Photograph credits:  www.wallpaperweb.org/wallpaper/nature/stormy_sky.jpg)
  

Cancer 101

 I'm NOT  a Harry Potter fan and never will be, but I made the mistake of buying one frigging book for my kids and they were hooked.  Obviously, I ended up taking them to some of the movies and they took themselves to see others.  Anyway what I do remember was that none of the characters could say the name "Voldemort".  I can still remember the faces of the actors as they would say the word, if you were ten or less it would scare the crap out of you.   It was as if evil and destruction would be bestowed upon anyone who said the forbidden word.  That's how cancer is, it's the word we don't want to say in the same sentence as the name of any of our loved ones.  It's like when I say something that my mom doesn't want to hear she promptly responds with a "God forbid". Bottom line, we don't want to deal either the word or the illness even if our doctor tells us that today it is as frequent as a common cold.  We've have to say like my mom "God forbid" every time we say it out loud.  

A memory that will be with me forever, was the day my mom had her follow up appointment after a breast biopsy, and her doctor began explaining something about it.  As he spoke I only would see his mouth open and close, so I interrupted and asked him, -what was he saying? I felt dumb because I didn't or wanted to understand what he was trying to tell us.  To what he replied with a simple, "Your mother has breast cancer." I felt like my shoulders were carrying the burden of two cement blocks, one on each side.  Devastated is short to express my feelings, literally I felt I was drowning.  It became so unbearable that I needed to  step out of the office for a moment and get a grip of myself.  I knew that whatever needed to be done, had to be dealt with.  As I walked inside, I saw how my mother straightened her back, took a deep breath and listened to what we needed to be doing in the next couple of days.  She was definitely on board to do whatever was needed. I think she was more worried about how I was feeling then about herself, that's how great moms are.  Now my problem was I had to get going, but didn't know how. Cancer doesn't come with a handbook or you can't enroll in a course to learn on how to deal with it. You have to create your own Cancer 101 customized just for  your individual learning. The course syllabus is just going to be for you and your family.   

So, she went through all the ups and downs of her treatment, thank God her tumor was capsuled in and had not spread anywhere, which meant no chemotherapy for her.  But she did receive about thirty-five radio therapies in a nearby facility, and ever since she's been free of cancer.  I gotta tell you that every time she gets a pet scan done, anxiety becomes my friend for a couple of weeks and goes away when the results are ready to be picked up and good news is delivered.  Nevertheless,  everyone that has survived cancer has to go through this and when the results are fine you just say a prayer of thanks and move on.  My heart goes out to all those patients and their families that don't receive good news and need to go through all the process again.  It's like having a trip full of jet stream and realizing when you land safely that you need to get on that turbulent plane one more time because you arrived at the wrong destination.

Going back to my mom,  she would tick me off  when she would tell me that God had allowed the disease to overcome her.  She would say it in a stoic and steady voice.  To which I would promptly reply that God hadn't allowed anything, reality was she had cancer and that even though that was a bad thing,  He would see us through. In my mind I can't work up the fact that God would allow something bad to happen to her.  I'm more than sure He would not want her to go through all the pain and suffering of dealing with the illness and with the treatment, not to mention the aftermath of it all.  I like to depict God in my mind as a loving and nurturing father, and as a fact no father would want his child to go through cancer.  Patients nor the family should think that it is God's will for us to endure this type of thing.  Cancer itself is hard enough.  

As our loved ones and ourselves face cancer coming around  to accept it  is the hardest part. Loosing our health is hard and even harder when you know that things will never be the same,  because no matter the outcome you will always be afraid that cancer can or will come back.  These are pretty hard words, but it's best to confront reality that hide from it.  This  understanding will  empower you to do something about it for yourself and for your family.  If we fail to fully acknowledge it,we will fail in trying to fix whatever is wrong.  For cancer patients and their families there is always a dreadful thought that lingers in the back of their heads.  It lingered at mine, what if mom's cancer spread somewhere, what if she looses her battle against it, those "what ifs" were killing me.  So, I decided to just deal with the daily issues that came along, and leaned on whatever could help me get through it.  

That's where the stories of the many survivors kicked in.  They were my reference link in my syllabus.  My reading list included the stories of  all those people, who went through the same things and all are just fine.  Those stories enlighten our spirits and fuel us to move forward.  Not only do we hear them avidly,  as if they were the water of a very thirsty man, but we repeat them to our loved ones.  How often have I heard people say to cancer patients, "Don't worry to much, I know a person that had the same type of cancer you have and he or she is doing just darn well.".  It's always good to know your not alone! Feeling lonely is the most terrible thing a person can go through when facing such a terrible illness.  That's why activities like the relays that the American Cancer Society and Susan G. Komen organize are so important, and even more important is the support we as family can give them.   

As you navigate through Cancer 101 in the early stages of the illness, you will have good or great days, thank God for those, but you are also going to live through bad or super bad ones.  Those are the ones you will dread to face, but life needs to go on.  Nobody can stop our clock from ticking and even if we think that tomorrow holds little or nothing to look forward to, it will get here anyway.  You'll need to do like my mom, straighten you back, and inhale a deep breath, grab your Cancer 101 handbook,  and get on board, either for your sake or your family's one.   At the end of it all, God will be with you like a loving father all the way.


(This post is dedicated to my mom and my father in law which are both very dear to my heart.
Photography:  My father's in law 70th birthday.  Both turned 70 last year.)

Phony Nationalism: The Road of Destruction

The decree that liberated the slaves who lived in Puerto Rico was signed one hundred and forty years ago.  It was a combined effort of many, but a historical figure who stands out among others would have to be, Dr. Ramon Emeterio Betances.

Who was he anyway?  Not from the point of view of some  who used him as an icon when trying to convey a false sense of  fatherland or as they call it "patria".  Or from others who only convey him as an important historical figure to be read about in History  classes.

As I recollect my thoughts about Ramon,  I think he was an amazing guy actually, probably Catholic, well educated, with a broad sense of the world due to his travels, with an inner voice that conveyed him into writing (he left an amazing literature heritage), and an activist.  What surprises me the most was that he was born into a family that were landowners, so probably in his father's lands there must have been slaves.  What triggered his desire to see all men free and equal?  That's a question that we can only wonder about.   

It's no surprise he chose to be a doctor, he seems to have been a healer by nature.  History being as always the eternal witness,  tells us that in 1855 he built a hospital and "saved" people, fellow Puerto Rican brothers and sisters, from the cholera epidemic. 

Also, Ramon had an inner drive to become an activist, people in his social circles weren't activists.  So, he had to be darn brave as well.  Ramon seemed to always be wanting to help others that were disadvantaged.   Thoughts rushed around my head, thinking about what pushed him.  Today are world is in dire need of men like him,   with a hard driven push to make change happen through hard work and combined efforts not with words that can only be taken away by the wind.

Ramon strived on trying to build a better world during the time frame of his life.  He was not a  by stander, but someone willing to take an active role in change.  He could have been a symbol for President Obama’s slogan, “Yes, We Can.”   He  took on whatever needed to be done to change things around on a hands on approach.  I am  more than sure that he also had  a powerful inner drive to help him navigate the difficult sea of change.   

He was a strong believer, but in what? Certainly in the fact than men can change their way.  He was sure that if given the tools we all could be believers as well and build a country that is a fatherland.  In our Puerto Rico of today (or any given country)  I am  not sure this can happen.  Many of us have become permanent by standers and have left the activist that lives inside us in the closet.  Ramon was known as the "Father of the Puerto Rican Faterhland".  I think he earned that title and paid it’s price,   his obliged and permanent absence from this  tiny spec in the Caribbean he called home. 

 He was a strong believer, but in what?? ...in the fact that men can change their way.

He died far away from his hometown and country, and yet was able to witness two important historical events evolve in front of his eyes, not being able to be part of it, but as a distant observer.  First, he would feel great joy as his lifelong project would become a reality, when in 1827 slavery was abolished from our Island.  But also to cause him great sorrow,  by the end of his life he would come to learn that American troops occupied Puerto Rico during the Spanish-American War.  The promise of freedom he made to all Puerto Ricans in "The Ten Commandments of Liberty" written in November of 1867 would not be fulfilled.   

To change men, you first need to heal their bodies and then their souls.  We the people,  have the power to  make change happen, but first we need to get our act together building a country, territory or state, ridden of phony nationalism based on superficial things which only are significant for those who get something out of it for their own gain through their cheap propaganda.

(Photography:  Miller, Paul Gerard. Historia de Puerto Rico. Chicago: Rand McNally, 1992. p. 296)

The Screwdriver

  I only have the blessing of having one and only brother.  He was born of March 20th, 1965 and I was born a year later on the 30th.  So, he was stuck with me for his birthday celebrations while we were children. My brother was really fun to be around with.   My fondest memories of him are during our late childhood years, I was in sixth and he was in seventh grade.  It was the late seventies and we were living in Chicago, we had been there for about two years or so.  I'm not really sure, but the thing is that during those troubled times in my parent's marriage, we were pretty much left alone to do our will.  Some parents are so hooked up in their own problems that fail to overlook their children. 

Growing up with my brother wasn't easy, he was quick to get into trouble and always had a good way of explaining himself out of it.  Once he got into spraying me with cockroach water, I don't remember exactly how he called it.  He would put some water in a Windex bottle with some nasty little cockroaches and tell me that if I didn't  do what he'd say, he was going to spray some of his roach water on me. I can't recall him getting into trouble with mom for this (to the day I'm still traumatized by roaches).  We were pretty much happy kids, thanks to my mom, because we grew up in a household where bickering was always just a heartbeat away.  My dad during my childhood and teens had a drinking problem that would not only put his own world upside down often, but ours also.  Throughout the years I'm glad he stuck around because at the end he's made up (at least in some parts) for all the pain and suffering he caused my brother and me as a child.  At least for me, because my brother left our home when he was barely eighteen years old.


We lived at some point in Augusta Blvd., but then moved to another street that was a Mexican neighborhood in the city.  We attended some time Chopin Elementary School, but then got transferred to another school  close to the apartment where we now lived.

We were enjoying some time off my parent's troubles while we lived in Augusta Blvd., but again we were coping as we settled into our new neighborhood.  Sometimes we didn't make it to school and instead we went downtown and bought tokens for the trains and just wander freely in Chicago.  It was a much fun as it sounds.  Sometimes I couldn't avoid  getting frightened and Tom would reassure me telling  me not to worry because he had brought the screwdriver.  Funny thing,  that made me feel safe.  During that time we didn't go to church because obviously nobody took us to church.  We were to young to drive ourselves anywhere and basically we didn't know anyone.  One day we stumbled across some people that were giving out free lunch in a nearby park where we often went to play.  We sure weren't going to let an opportunity of free lunch pass by, so off we went to get a freebie, like my brother likes to call free stuff.  Actually they were members of a Baptist church and were trying to minister to young children.  Certainly they grabbed out attention, we were both in need of some spiritual guidance.  Right then and there my path of faith began not only for me, but also for my brother.  I remember our faith was so big that when confronted with something beyond our strength (like lifting a heavy bag) we would say in the power of Jesus. 

Closely after we moved to Puerto Rico, things changed as we entered our teenager and young  adult years.  I  married when I was barely 21 and he was in and out of the Army for a while.  Later on when he married he would stay enlisted in the Army and has made a military career for himself (in which he has excelled).  We drifted a bit away from each other on that day to day basis, but we have never stopped loving each other.  If I would choose a word to describe my relationship with my brother, I would use  "safe place" (actually two).  Some time ago my gallbladder was giving me  a hard time, and my doctor ordered some blood work.  After getting it done,  a person called from the lab and told me to pass by and get my results as soon as I could.  The thing was that two cancer blood markers for pancreatic cancer had come back positive.  As my husband left for work,  I knew that I needed to call my brother quickly, not to give him the bad news, but to just listen to him and tell him how scared I was.  I tried to pull myself together, but my voice cracked more than once, as I told him how scared I felt,  to what with a slight crack in his voice he answered that he was also as scared, but that we needed to wait.  In the meanwhile, he would pray real hard. He still hadn't lost his ability to make me feel as safe as he did with his screwdriver.  I felt so much better after speaking to him.  Thank God everything went well, it seemed that since my gallbladder wasn't working at all it screwed up my lab tests results.  He's turning forty-eight tomorrow and in ten more days I will be turning forty-seven we've come a long way since our childhood, but one thing that hasn't changed at the core is our faith in God.  It doesn't matter how close or far we are in distance,  I always know my big brother (if only for a year with ten days) has my back covered.  No matter where life takes us we are bonded together forever because  we were able to  survive a very difficult childhood. I love you, Tom.  Happy Birthday!

Walking the Walk and Talking the Talk: What It's All About

During my childhood I was in need of a loving father, for which I turned to God and saw him in my mind as a loving father.  In many moments of our lives God responds to us in different ways, but always in a complete and perfect way.  I read recently a post in Facebook that said that we didn't need to question God because He is perfect and we are imperfect.  Such simple statement is so very true,  but nevertheless it is our nature to question who we are, or where were heading to? It sounds easy when said with the innocence that only youth can give you.  It becomes much harder as time passes and you question life itself.

 Humans have questioned their gods since the beginning of time and today is no different.  Some relationships begin very early in life and my own relationship with God began during my early childhood.  My brother  and myself had a sad background of a very dysfunctional family and even though we learned early on to get whatever we could out of it,  sometimes it became very hard just to be able to cope.  We never dwelled to much on our past and moved forward working hard and as years have passed,  I like to think we've tried to do our best to raise families that in no way or matter resemble our own, except maybe by the unconditional love my mom gave us.

Precisely because of that, I raised all my children more or less the same way, but my oldest child was a protester by nature.  She was always against something.  I remember when she was in third grade she told me that she had taken a math test that day and had not studied, but received an A.  My reaction was telling her calmly that it wasn't honest of her not to have told me that she would get a test and despite of her taking the test that day she would need to study as if she would be taking it the next day.  She became very upset and after a while wailed as she said, "I think I'm the only little girl in this community that is studying for a test I already took".  That should have told me something back then.

My husband and myself tried to do our best raising her in the warmth of our local church, watching how she blossomed and welcomed Jesus into her heart when she was only eleven years old.  I told my husband she's too young, she doesn't know what she's doing, this is not the right time, and so many more things rushed through my head, but that didn't stop her.  She took upon herself all the work she thought she was capable of doing, she was always busy.   I knew where she was heading to when she finished college and it worried me.  She wanted to work for our denomination as a Young Adult Volunteer in Arizona.  She had chosen to become our Lord's hands and voice in a far away land that was foreign for us.  We feel proud to know about her  work and how it  evolves around the  Southside Presbyterian Church in Tucson helping immigrants find a job for a day and protesting against a very wrong immigration law.  She has chosen to walk the walk and talk the talk.  Not many Christians are willing to do,  I haven't met to many that are willing to do it.  We want to serve comfortably, with everything at the tips of our fingers and a hefty paycheck to match our work.   

 It's no secret that things our tough for immigrants in Arizona and the government doesn't take protestors in lightly (that's what scares the most).  Sometimes I'm so worried about her well being that I feel sick to my stomach.  To make things a little worse she got her best friend involved as well, so not only do I worry about my own child, but also for another mom's child as well.  I often remember  them  as two little girls playing and laughing in my daughter's room, laying down in a my daughter's twin bed,  dreaming and making plans.  At one point, both of them wanted to become paleontologists. I sure wished they had followed up on that dream. I still close my eyes and listen to their endless conversations at night.  Before my eyes I saw as in fast forward how they both grew and became two adult women.  They've given me some grief over the years (like when they took off to Holland and I didn't know anything about them for about a day or two), but the bottom line is that they became two amazing women. August 20th will always bring me back memories of both of them waiting in line in a security check point in San Juan's International Airport, knowing that this time around, nothing would ever be the same. Today, I worry about them in a world that is no longer safe for anybody that doesn't look like an American ( and they certainly don't look it).

So many doubts, so many thoughts wondering in my head, asking myself sometimes why my perfect God (like the Facebook kid states), like icing on top of any cake, has asked  me to give Him the most precious thing a mother can have, her child.  Is it not yet enough all the burden of my own childhood, my husband's illness and later on life my own?  The big guy and me have had many tough conversations about this and still my heart bleeds as I pray for myself and my child.  In occasions feeling as empty as I felt when I began praying.  Some time ago, after much soul searching I heard his answer whispered quietly in my ear as He   told me that she is no longer my child, but His own, and her well being is enclosed in the comfort of his hands forever.  

Standing Up To The Pack

Anyone that has read my blog knows I'm a strong believer of the power of the word.  It's great to be able to reach people and listen to their reactions through diverse channels.  This blog is about faith and how we come to cope with it in many different ways and manners.  The downfall of any given denomination is its weakness to listen to those who speak in the diverse world in which we live today.

 If we had to learn out of something in my own denomination it would certainly be out of the open debate when non-celibate homosexuals and lesbians were good to go to be ordained as ministers after obviously the due process of our presbyteries and local congregations.  Many presbyteries had to overcome the debates and conversations of many of its members and ministers and then come together and share a meal and a conversation without the hatred that many could of had internalized when there are others that didn't agree with them.

How do we overcome personal differences?   Which are the best ways to overcome these differences?  Differences sometimes are ignited when we simply don't agree with another persons point or points of view.  But, how do we react to these differences? A simple way is to listen and see if we can get some good out of them.   For me it's easy to relate to this as a teacher because  a teacher is in charge of a group of people during the day at specific hours and during some days of the week, (they are not 24/7 students) and some of my colleagues thought they owned their students.

Taking it a step further,  some of them would think that they were the ones calling the shots and that nobody  in that classroom better say anything about it.  I would differ because I thought that education was a process where not only students would learn, but the teacher as well.  Not all my students agreed with whatever I said and I had to give them the opportunity to express how they felt about it.  Never in my mind would I commit the stupidity of undermining their opinions or what they felt needed to be said.

Some of my colleagues would pack up like hungry wolves if they felt threatened by any student.  It's funny like animals can teach us a few things about human nature.  Some time ago,  I read a very interesting article about wolves.  Many think that wolves are about anger, ferocity, aggressiveness, but the bottom line for their hierarchy or as we humans would put it, is order.

Wolves behave in  a certain social order and the command is shifted from various types of wolves beginning in the alpha and finishing in the omega wolf.   The worst part is that the omega wolf is the weakest and the one no one cares about in the pack.  Many times he is bullied by other members of his pack and at the end will end up receiving the full blown aggression in the wolf world.   What is it with wolves anyway, is it that their just plain angry all the time or that it's tough for them to show affection?  That comes to my mind as I write this post because recently I've had a very hard time coping with how things are being dealt with within my denomination.

Sadly,  as the teacher is in charge of the classroom,  also "any" given minister in in charge of his or her flock.  What makes me ponder about the role we play as members of any given congregation, are we the omega wolves?  Bullied and mistreated by other members or the hierarchy of our denomination?  Why can't the omega wolf stand up to its pack?  Probably if they did,  they would end of battered and murdered by other members of their pack.  Not only do we kill in flesh, but we are more than capable to kill in spirit.

Some reflect on why Christianity is not the majorities religion any more and I think the answer is clear, we have drifted away from the message of  love (absolute and within no doubt kind of love)  that our Lord taught us and we have given in on our own hatred to those members of the pack that dear to state some truths, or at least their own views on things without having to whisper it through the thin walls of any building that calls itself a temple.

If any good can come out of this reflection,  it would be the understanding that God loves me and everybody else who chooses to believe in him no matter what.  He loves us with all our differences and similarities and shows no boundaries as to where He wants us to be.  God doesn't want us to accept everything said and done as perfect or as an ABSOLUTE truth, because  Jesus didn't do it himself when he lived upon the face of the Earth a couple of thousand years ago and their is no theology that can prove otherwise. For Pete's sake,  why do anyone of us have to? 

(Great article to check out: http://animals.howstuffworks.com/mammals/wolf-pack-mentality.htm)

Aliens Among Us

-The annual gay parade that was celebrated this year in Puerto Rico was disgusting!- Hold your horses,  before you begin insulting or praising me, this is not my statement.  Someone else said it and I had the opportunity of listening and reflecting on what was being said.  Like any blogger I grabbed the opportunity to think about it as a possible post.

But, what would I say about gay rights anyway, I'm not really in favor or against it.  In 2011  I couldn't run away from that issue anymore  because my daughter, +Stephanie Quintana was in the midst of an open debate with me as to if we should or not ordain non celibate gays and lesbians in our denomination.

During 2011 our church gathered in  Minnesota to come together in  it's  General Assembly and went on the approve motion 2010 (4th attempt since the late 1990's) changing our Constitution.  These changes would need the votes of our Presbyteries, but surprisingly for many at some point,  those who were against motion 2010 became supporters of it and approved these changes.  No longer would pastors need to live within the covenant of marriage between opposing sexes, or in chastity.  The language in which our Constitution was written had changed for better or for worse.  My dear daughter participated as a YAD during that assembly and was a strong supporter of the changes that would take place.

During that time I learned to appreciate that she was different from me.  During all my life, repeatedly I had heard about the sinful ways of the homosexuals.    Still, I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that our denomination has allowed the ordination of openly  gay and lesbians. But as neither a supporter or as part of the opposition I have learned to listen to the testimonies of those who express their sexuality as part of their core identity and not a lifestyle choice.

Homosexuals and lesbians are people that have gifts and graces of God, and it seems not fair to limit what ever contribution they could make to our society.  But, again I continue to think and rethink my position with respect to this matter and not find a clear voice within my spirit as to where I stand.

Reading an article that was published on the internet by USA Today in which Peter Smith interviews Reverend  Ann Deibart (co-pastor at Central Presbyterian Church in Louisville, Kentucky)  she speaks about the process she went through to become a supporter of these changes, and in the meanwhile the opposition continue to stand and follow biblical prohibitions on homosexuality.  Basically this is where the line is drawn, those who became supporters felt change after much soul searching, hence those who continue to hold their opposition based on the scripture continue to hold the historic view on homosexuality.

If we like the historical perspective, then we can't oversee that both Greek and Roman accepted homosexuality at least in men, only Sappho and Plutarch would go on to write about lesbians.  Things remained more or less tranquil for these members of the community until Constantine changed the established order in 324 AD and Christianity became the chosen religion for the Romans.

For more than 200 years Christianity grew and  its defense of the nuclear family, would lead to a direct attack towards homosexuals and they would become the object of ridicule, contempt and judgment.  Still today they are subject to these same things and no longer Christianity is the majorities religion.  They seem to live in between us as aliens, as if they didn't belong within us.

It's funny though how we could become detached to the point that a read an article in which a Presbyterian minister stated he didn't "mind" if they obtained some things like, not being discriminated, being able to get employment opportunities or fundamental human rights.  These are not things homosexuals should receive, but what they are entitled to by right.

The fact we can't run a way from  is that families today no longer are nuclear and we should applaud efforts taken by our Department of Education that is trying to address these changes through programs that introduce our children to tolerance and respect for others not judgement.  I'm talking about a new program introduced in our school system in which they talk about when a family has two dads or two moms.

I've learned to discern about this issue and have understood that even though we can find direct prohibition in the Old Testament we still have to set aside a frown and replace it with a smile full of love towards our brothers and sisters just how Jesus taught us and love them no matter what, we don't have to approve or judge their way of life because our own way of life is as much in the scope of our Lord. 

Words Are Powerful Stuff

Usually when a teacher asks a student something, he or she is almost always straightforward and to the point, but they tend to use short sentences with words that are not fancy at all.  Using this great reference, I would have to say that words are powerful stuff.  

Words are what we use to communicate with each other, ourselves and the world that surround us.  

http://www.apptyrant.com/

 
Words are not intended to be used lightly, they should be used with a huge CAUTION sign.  They can build or destroy relationships, nations, businesses, partnerships, communities of all sorts and kinds, including faith communities.  Which are communities that are intertwined with common beliefs, they share moments of worship together which include prayer, and above all they have strong feelings for one another.  Or at least, in an idealistic world that is how it is supposed to be.  These communities can have different labels: Pentecostals, Presbyterians, Catholics, Baptists, Methodists, and the list can go on.  Furthermore, they are extended to Muslims, Jews, or any other religion that come together as one. What makes these communities different is that they are united in one faith.  Each one different, but at the same time similar in so many ways.  

Some time ago I heard a minister say that he was going to become a tyrant...

Our differences separate us because we are drawn most of the time to the negative side of things. We still can look forward to building tolerant and peaceful relationships with one another if we put the work in.  The Ahmadiyya Muslim Community USA was a great model to follow when they condemned the shooting at the Sikh Temple in Oak Creek, Wisconsin. Even though they were two different communities separated by core beliefs they were able to construct a bridge of friendship and one was able to dwell with the other.   The part I liked to most of their statement was "our friends the Sikh community". 

Sometimes I just wonder why can we not just use are words to sooth instead of provoke anger and distress in others.  Some time ago I heard a minister say that he was going to become a tyrant, it was a mandate to pray at a specific hour on a specific day of the week. Probably the person really did not know what he was saying, if he had bothered in looking up how powerful the word tyrant was I am more than sure that he would have deviated from using it.   A tyrant is any person in a position of authority who exercises power oppressively or despotically, some definitions take it a little further and add with cruelty. When we pray for others we do it out of our love for them, we ask God to be merciful with that person and to help him or her in whatever is wrong.  How is it possible that in the same sentence we are using tyranny and prayer. One act cruel and the other loving!  

Talk about crazy and this would become it in no time.  For some it is like my Mom would repeat to me, "Don't  worry about that, words are taken away by the wind" or another of her favorites, "I take things depending on who says them".   She made it sound easy to just to ignore the nonsense some people say, but sometimes it's not that easy to forget.  Some words just haunt us as they linger in our thoughts for a long time.

Where was God in 3,500 B.C.?

Every Sunday as we attend our church's service basically the same ritual is performed and it's kind of a routine.  If God forgives, something is different we get a little upset because our uptight attitude has to get out of our comfort zone.  Sitting in the same place for so many years can become dangerous for your intellect because due to our comfortable routine we stop thinking. 

Since some time now I've had a chance to regain my thinking skills thanks to many Sundays listening to speeches that could have come out of any philosophy class in any given university.  During those long, boring speeches I've had some time to drift away to pretend land.  Some crazy things can happen when your mind is just drifting around.   I confess that in the beginning my thoughts were settled in domestic issues like,  what am I making for lunch today  or the different things I had to do once I got home.

One day as I complained about it, my mother in law told me why don't you try praying or reading the bible while the "sermon" is going on.  What?????  I think she's a pretty crafty lady making the best of her time.  Nevertheless, after a while my overactive imagination drifted towards Native American Indians.  I've always been drawn to their history and have considered them the first Americans, certainly not the immigrants that settled in Jamestown. 

Christianity like other Abrahamic religions are fairly young and Native American Indians have been around for some time now.  In a world as old as ours, how can we possibly think as Christians  that God or our concept of God has only been around for about 2,000 years.  Where was God in 3,500 B.C. when all those communities of people were settling all over what today we know as the United States? 

We repeat every Sunday that God is eternal, that he was here before time itself, that he created our World and Universe.  Which takes us to the next point, God was very much interacting with these emerging communities.  Maybe not in a way that we conceptualize him or her today, but in a way they were able to understand the concept.  Many of these communities were diverse and some differences were apparent in their spirituality, but  basically across the board they believed in a spiritual deity which was one force that controlled their destinies.  They didn't have what we have today in an organizational scale, but they had strong spiritual believes. 

photo credit: morgueFile free photos

Thank God they didn't have churches organized like today, because maybe they would have had to  give the equivalent of money to pay the Shaman's tipi or pay him his books (housing and education),  or food for his horse (equivalent for soaring gas prices), or any other thing that he kind of felt he was entitled to.  Thank God they relied on oral tradition and not written translations of translations of translations  of pieces of  what later would became known as the Bible.  When we talk not only do we engage in active learning, but we are able to learn communication skills with others.

This time taken to listen to others as they repeated the stories that the older people would tell gave the younger generation the opportunity to find their place among their community.  They were more successful than us in establishing multi-generational  communities than we are today.  Bottom line, why in earth do we think that we not only own the truth, but heaven as well.  So, where did all those good, well behaved people go when they died under our standards or beliefs?  I'm more than certain that they found peace at the end, the peace that only our God can give us, which means that our same God was more than present way back then  in 3,500 B.C.  If not,  how many eternal Gods do we have around? 

Damage Control

As Christians we need to put into perspective what we believe in. 

We just can't go on thinking what others tell or want us to think because God has given us our own mind where we think things over.  Not all that is said or done by a reverend or a leader of any given church will be what God has intended it to be, why do these people think they own the truth. 

To be righteous no one owns the truth, it's more like it means something different for everyone.  We have a scenario that maybe repeats itself throughout many churches where a religious leader speaks up and tries to influence his or her flock to see things their way. 

You need to ask yourself,  why does this have to happen this way?  If their influence is trying to hurdle you towards what you don't believe in then you need to make a u-turn.  No one needs to be bullied into something they don't believe in. 

For example, recently I heard a reverend talk about how we needed to read the bible to be able to debate Jehovah's Witnesses beliefs.  If we weren't up to it then probably we didn't study our bible enough.  While I was listening I kind of thought,  how can he know if I read or not the bible to make that assumption.  Maybe I do read my bible but, am not up to debating them. 

Why in Earth would I do that? 

Sometimes Jehovah's Witnesses do come around and preach their preach, but I really don't see anything wrong with that.  All they do from what I see is try to talk to people about being a better parent or  person.  They give you their magazine and go on their way, obviously if your interested they will come into your home and give you their complete course on bible and try to convince you to join forces with them, nevertheless I'm not interested in debating their points from mine. 

From my point of view none of us really has the absolute truth, our individual truth is what we choose it to be. 

During our personal reflection is when we are able to do damage control to the hitting our faith gets once in a while.  The sad part is that our faith is hit harder at church. 

Let's try to link our spirituality with religion to see how that works. There more religious the less spiritual.  On the other hand, the more spiritual the better person I become. 

A great question to think about!