I was listening to a show on EWTN about birth control and abortion. The whole show impressed me but the part that stood out was when the host asked the guest what he thought would be the result of the thousands of abortions performed in this country since Roe vs. Wade. The guest very simply said, "euthanasia". Baby Boomers will be systematically killed off by the few children they allowed to survive. Good grief. Very Old Testament, an eye for and eye and a tooth for a tooth.
The guest then went on to explain his reasoning, not enough young workers willing or able to support social security when all of us retire, not enough young workers to take care of us as we become infirm, a culture (creat/ed by us) that despises the non-productive and non-beautiful and last but not least a culture (also created by us) that approves expedient routine murder of the helpless.
I believe God is loving and forgiving. What I don't know, is He also just? This is going to keep me up nights.
Take care, Bea.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Faith Full
We have two cats. Both are rescue cats. Abby was younger when we rescued her. Still had two of her baby teeth. Maybe the age of rescue makes a difference. I don't know. She is certainly different from skittish old Whomper who was pregnant and starving when we found her thirteen years ago.
This morning I was having a crisis of faith. Does God love us? If He loves us why do we have to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune? Is it just to teach us a lesson? Seems kind of sadistic.
Back to the cats. It was freezing here this morning. I had the heat turned down so it was not only cold outside but cold inside. The cats were chilly. I opened the curtains to let in some sun. Our sofa is right smack dab if front of a big picture window. It warms up first and fast. Abby was huddled in her basket, obviously cold. I picked her up and laid her on the sofa. She stretched out, took and abbreviated bath and was soon fast asleep. Whomper was also crouched in her basket. I attempted to pick her up. She tried to get away. I caught hold of her tail. She yowled and tried to scratch me. I did get hold of her but it was a struggle. As I walked toward the warm sofa she attempted to climb over my shoulder. She scratched my chest in the process and eventually jumped off my back. I gave up at this point. She went and hid under the bed in the totally unheated bedroom. There she remained for two hours while Abby snored in the sun. Whomper did finally come out but by then the sun was gone.
What was the difference between the two cats? Faith. Abby believed I had nothing but good in store for her and reacted accordingly. Whomper could have been living the life of Riley for the past thirteen years. We have tried to give her all the good things we could think of, but she seldom gets to experience the goodness of the gifts because she is so fearful. She does not trust us. She has no faith we mean her well. Every interaction is interpreted by her as sadistic. So, she freezes.
No surprise here, I am like Whomper. I lack faith. Turns out you can and should ask for it. Not a familiar concept for me. I thought you sort of had to gin it up on your own. Like positive thinking. Not very effective.
From this day forward I am asking straight out, "Please give me greater faith."
Amen. Bea.
This morning I was having a crisis of faith. Does God love us? If He loves us why do we have to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune? Is it just to teach us a lesson? Seems kind of sadistic.
Back to the cats. It was freezing here this morning. I had the heat turned down so it was not only cold outside but cold inside. The cats were chilly. I opened the curtains to let in some sun. Our sofa is right smack dab if front of a big picture window. It warms up first and fast. Abby was huddled in her basket, obviously cold. I picked her up and laid her on the sofa. She stretched out, took and abbreviated bath and was soon fast asleep. Whomper was also crouched in her basket. I attempted to pick her up. She tried to get away. I caught hold of her tail. She yowled and tried to scratch me. I did get hold of her but it was a struggle. As I walked toward the warm sofa she attempted to climb over my shoulder. She scratched my chest in the process and eventually jumped off my back. I gave up at this point. She went and hid under the bed in the totally unheated bedroom. There she remained for two hours while Abby snored in the sun. Whomper did finally come out but by then the sun was gone.
What was the difference between the two cats? Faith. Abby believed I had nothing but good in store for her and reacted accordingly. Whomper could have been living the life of Riley for the past thirteen years. We have tried to give her all the good things we could think of, but she seldom gets to experience the goodness of the gifts because she is so fearful. She does not trust us. She has no faith we mean her well. Every interaction is interpreted by her as sadistic. So, she freezes.
No surprise here, I am like Whomper. I lack faith. Turns out you can and should ask for it. Not a familiar concept for me. I thought you sort of had to gin it up on your own. Like positive thinking. Not very effective.
From this day forward I am asking straight out, "Please give me greater faith."
Amen. Bea.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Time Again
Has been almost a year since I posted. I am probably talking to myself. Nothing unusual.
I am in the process of cleaning out my upstairs office. I have collected much stuff up there. One of the dusty boxes contains many, many photos. I spent last eve looking through them. Painful, very painful. I used to be happier. I was also fatter, thinner, fattest, thinnest, and fatter again. As I was viewing all those past images Honey Bunny looked over my shoulder and said, "cute." It was a picture of me at my fattest. What he saw was a smiling tan woman with her feet in the ocean. I saw a blob in pink hat. Must give us pause....
Since moving to our snowbound valley I have been hopeless. I have not been able to gin up any cheerful expectations of the future. Why?
Immaturity. The blob in the pink hat was younger. She looked at life through American, Protestant, baby boomer, rose colored glasses. The smiling older woman with her feet in the snow now is on the cusp of seeing life through different lenses. It makes all the difference.
Next time: Grow Me Up God. God bless us everyone, Bea.
I am in the process of cleaning out my upstairs office. I have collected much stuff up there. One of the dusty boxes contains many, many photos. I spent last eve looking through them. Painful, very painful. I used to be happier. I was also fatter, thinner, fattest, thinnest, and fatter again. As I was viewing all those past images Honey Bunny looked over my shoulder and said, "cute." It was a picture of me at my fattest. What he saw was a smiling tan woman with her feet in the ocean. I saw a blob in pink hat. Must give us pause....
Since moving to our snowbound valley I have been hopeless. I have not been able to gin up any cheerful expectations of the future. Why?
Immaturity. The blob in the pink hat was younger. She looked at life through American, Protestant, baby boomer, rose colored glasses. The smiling older woman with her feet in the snow now is on the cusp of seeing life through different lenses. It makes all the difference.
Next time: Grow Me Up God. God bless us everyone, Bea.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Militant
Good grief, fifteen replies and only two people who read what I wrote. Ain't the Internet wonderful.
I am learning about self will power. I have been very muddled about this attribute. Mainly muddled because I believed I did not possess it. Or at least I did not possess it as a positive force. I believed I was willful. As in, "I will do what I want to do when I want to do it." That drive I have in spades. I thought of will power as a gift of God given to Saints and thin women. Obviously I was not gifted. I have changed my mind, for good.
I have free will. I can do what I want when I want to to it. I have choice. I can choose for good or bad. But...I have to do battle to choose for good. Doing bad is hardly choice at all. I have to fight for positive outcome will power. Most of my skirmishes are with me. I am truly at odds with myself. The enemy within? Not necessarily. Does one war upon a youngster? No, it just feels like it. Try saying no to a teenager who wants something you the adult deem harmful. Gad it is all out frontal assault, if it is not sniper fire or sabotage. I have not been willing to suffer battle fatigue so as to outgun my unruly childish/sinful self. No more. I can't win if I do not fight.
Why was I never willing to engage the enemy? Because I thought I'd lose. Train a child to be a victim and unless Grace intervenes you will always have a loser. Even if the person she is losing to is herself.
Grace has intervened for me. I am doing battle. New learning, I am not alone in my fight. If I am willing to set out sword raised, God comes to my aid. Grace, I get Grace. Who knew? Not me. I have never been willing to arrive at the battle line let alone contemplate engaging in the fight. Guess where I found my weapon of choice . In my mouth. "NO," is a sharp two edged sword.
This morning was tough for me. A family member is ill and I am bearing the brunt of the problem. It was snowing. The cat threw up in the unmade bed. We have a prowler. You know, life. The way I cope with life is to overeat. But, I vowed to God to give up sugar for Lent and my learning. I stood in front of the frigde contemplating its frugal contents. (It's Lent) Could I binge on apples? I was going in for the kill applewise when my still small voice said, "no." In the blink of an eye I thought, "you are not going to be able to fight this urge," and the phone rang. A friend said, "Stop what you are doing I'm coming over." I stopped. Grace.
I am finally willing to fight for myself by fighting with myself. Go figure.
Take care. Love Bea
I am learning about self will power. I have been very muddled about this attribute. Mainly muddled because I believed I did not possess it. Or at least I did not possess it as a positive force. I believed I was willful. As in, "I will do what I want to do when I want to do it." That drive I have in spades. I thought of will power as a gift of God given to Saints and thin women. Obviously I was not gifted. I have changed my mind, for good.
I have free will. I can do what I want when I want to to it. I have choice. I can choose for good or bad. But...I have to do battle to choose for good. Doing bad is hardly choice at all. I have to fight for positive outcome will power. Most of my skirmishes are with me. I am truly at odds with myself. The enemy within? Not necessarily. Does one war upon a youngster? No, it just feels like it. Try saying no to a teenager who wants something you the adult deem harmful. Gad it is all out frontal assault, if it is not sniper fire or sabotage. I have not been willing to suffer battle fatigue so as to outgun my unruly childish/sinful self. No more. I can't win if I do not fight.
Why was I never willing to engage the enemy? Because I thought I'd lose. Train a child to be a victim and unless Grace intervenes you will always have a loser. Even if the person she is losing to is herself.
Grace has intervened for me. I am doing battle. New learning, I am not alone in my fight. If I am willing to set out sword raised, God comes to my aid. Grace, I get Grace. Who knew? Not me. I have never been willing to arrive at the battle line let alone contemplate engaging in the fight. Guess where I found my weapon of choice . In my mouth. "NO," is a sharp two edged sword.
This morning was tough for me. A family member is ill and I am bearing the brunt of the problem. It was snowing. The cat threw up in the unmade bed. We have a prowler. You know, life. The way I cope with life is to overeat. But, I vowed to God to give up sugar for Lent and my learning. I stood in front of the frigde contemplating its frugal contents. (It's Lent) Could I binge on apples? I was going in for the kill applewise when my still small voice said, "no." In the blink of an eye I thought, "you are not going to be able to fight this urge," and the phone rang. A friend said, "Stop what you are doing I'm coming over." I stopped. Grace.
I am finally willing to fight for myself by fighting with myself. Go figure.
Take care. Love Bea
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Self Gratification
Lent is coming. I am so relieved.
I will get to give up television for a month and a half. I willl experience much during this time, and I will have no t.v. to clutter up what I am experiencing. It is like waking up from a long drugged sleep when I quit watching television. I notice for the first time in months what is going on around me. I get the house cleaned, the bills organized and paid and friends called or emailed. I plan and shop for our meals. I exercise. I read after supper and go to bed early. I suddenly have room in my life to live.
That stupid black box sucks up me and gives nothing back. I do realize that my television is like a gun, it is the user who is the problem. I avoid real life by watching fake life. I substitute passive reception for active learning. I am not the first one to recognize the connection between tube viewing and eating. I take in and get or give nothing back. It is all about me. Self gratification with diminishing returns. Except my weight that does not diminish.
I am fine. I am snowed under. A foot of snow fell this week. Oh well, this too shall melt.
I will be writing more...often.
love bea
I will get to give up television for a month and a half. I willl experience much during this time, and I will have no t.v. to clutter up what I am experiencing. It is like waking up from a long drugged sleep when I quit watching television. I notice for the first time in months what is going on around me. I get the house cleaned, the bills organized and paid and friends called or emailed. I plan and shop for our meals. I exercise. I read after supper and go to bed early. I suddenly have room in my life to live.
That stupid black box sucks up me and gives nothing back. I do realize that my television is like a gun, it is the user who is the problem. I avoid real life by watching fake life. I substitute passive reception for active learning. I am not the first one to recognize the connection between tube viewing and eating. I take in and get or give nothing back. It is all about me. Self gratification with diminishing returns. Except my weight that does not diminish.
I am fine. I am snowed under. A foot of snow fell this week. Oh well, this too shall melt.
I will be writing more...often.
love bea
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Not Dead
Just down for the count. Some health problems v-e-r-y slow to resolve. I am moving at a snail's pace back into the main stream of life.
Winter has arrived. I'm glad. I want to be holed up for a while yet. Dogs, cats and husband are fine. Will write more when I have something to say.
Take care. Love Bea
Winter has arrived. I'm glad. I want to be holed up for a while yet. Dogs, cats and husband are fine. Will write more when I have something to say.
Take care. Love Bea
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
All's Well
I am so over summer. I want to get back to our winter routine. Or any routine. I don't do well with no schedule. This hot summer has been hectic and fast. I am ready to slow down and act instead of just reacting. I kind of envy the students.
Labor Day is upon us and by darn by October first our gallivanting is going to be over. Bring on the snow.
Love Bea
I will rue that last statement.
Labor Day is upon us and by darn by October first our gallivanting is going to be over. Bring on the snow.
Love Bea
I will rue that last statement.
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