Archive for July, 2008


Day of the Iraqi Child

We need to try to understand as best we can the pain that some people endure.

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I have felt a little like I am cracking recently. Like I have a scrape or a blister somewhere deep within and at certain times (and somehow…) hot liquids are making their way inside and being poured onto my injury. Sometimes the assailant of my wound is something as simple as CNN, or the words to a song, or a person at a stoplight, but other times, the pain is felt through trusted friends, or myself. I know I risk sounding dramatic and like I am going through a mid-mid life crisis at the time, but I’m not… I am what I always am – vulnerable and raw. I just cannot for the life of me figure out what causes this certain degree of sensitivity more at some times than others… Is it me? Am I really that closed off normally to engage in empathizing with other’s struggles or recognizing my own broken soul? For instance, did you know that I hurt people I love? I bet you did, because I am your friend and I have probably hurt you at some point… but why does this info come as a surprise to me? Why am I so programmed for self-glorification that I often lost sight of the meaning of this life? Did you know that almost five thousand men and women have died in Iraq over the past few years? How is it so easy to step back from national affairs, hang my hat, and say my vote doesn’t count? How selfish am I? If my vote didn’t count, if I de-sensitized myself from the fact that there is some major shit going down in the world… it is like saying that I don’t care… and that it doesn’t mean anything. Did I not know that there are families losing their homes right now in California, and that on that same note, men and women risking their lives to save the livelihoods of perfect strangers? How could I not see the smoke that was coming from my own soul to indicate consumption of a different kind… self-absorption? Heaven help me. Wait… heaven help them. I do not think of the families in Iraq often who have lost loved ones and children very often. But I do today. Today is the “Day of the Iraqi Child.” How can I not consider the parents who have lost their innocent babies to strategic plans of those engaging in war? They feel, they long for, and they still love their children. How can I ignore the pain that some will so endlessly endure throughout their life? How did I miss that the people of Zimbabwe were in major crisis? How could I not think of them at times when I faced a challenge of my own? These are people who have been forced, brutally at times, to re-elect a corrupt leader, while the world sits back and watches. Where was the media when refugee Zimbabwean families were pouring into South Africa only to face more oppression at the footsteps of their neighbors? How could I not know? How could I not care? People were being hurt… systematically, just like the genocide that took place in Sudan. Can I really afford to not care?

How do we do this? How do we insulate ourselves from the lives of those around us? How do the Sudanese being murdering in mass genocide across the globe become objects?… and not mothers, fathers, children, and friends, like they actually are? How do the homeless that stand under the overpasses of I-10 become “scum” and not someone’s baby, born of their mother’s flesh? How do we forget that everyone is somebody’s baby? How do we forget that each person, from Cambodia to Sweden to Madagascar to Columbia, are from a mother and a father, and that they are precious beyond measure? What gives me the right to consider some more precious than others? Damn it, why do I do that? I am so guilty. But for the moment, right now, I am hurt. I somehow have cracked just the slightest bit to let that hot liquid drip into my wound. And like I said, it hurts at times. And when it hurts, all I have left to do is pray.


precious moments… in between

Well …we have returned home to Houston and amidst all the sorting of clothes, toys, books, and thoughts… I have also had the time to sort some of my favorite photos… as of recently.(See below.)

We are a busy family. I am leaving on Friday to go do some “creative bonding” with my friend little Jen. I will tell you what creative bonding is later… but hint, hint… it involves a creative “bonding” agent. I am stoked to leave on holiday for a few days. Then we are home for a few days, and then bam, we are off to Tulsa to visit family, and then will drive directly from there to Colorado for about two weeks to see old friends, visit old haunts, and generally enjoy the mountain lifestyle that we so willingly abandoned. Then, another treat for me, to Vegas for a crazy ass bachelorette party (kidding, it will involve a good tan and catching up with old friends.) Then bam, school starts and I am thrust back into the world of eighth grade humor, making lunches, and being held accountable for what I am teaching the youth of America. How did I ever get so lucky? 

So, my posts may be few and far between over the next month… lots of fun to be had by all in this family. Cheerio!

Will he hurt me for publicizing this picture in 10 years? But my gosh, he is a gorgeous princess!

Sumi is in her, “I love all food” stage. Eating is pure joy for this eleven month old… for the moment.

I am not sure this expression has even been captured on film. Ben’s “why are they coming at me with that foot long wiener?” expression.

Crack me up.

Properly applying sunscreen to a two year evokes this sort of response.

Why does this phenomena always make me giggle? Does she not feel the food stuck to her?

Books that made an impact

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