Some stories make me really angry. Some make me really sad. This one accomplishes both. First, the part that makes me angry. State Delegate Bob Marshall of Manassas, Virginia says disabled children are God’s punishment to women who have aborted their first pregnancy. He made that statement last week at a press conference to oppose state funding for Planned Parenthood. “The number of children who are born subsequent to a first abortion with handicaps has increased dramatically. Why? Because when you abort the first born of any, nature takes its vengeance on the subsequent children,” said Marshall. “In the Old Testament, the first born of every being, animal and man, was dedicated to the Lord. There’s a special punishment Christians would suggest.” This particular Christian would suggest nothing of the kind. Mr. Marshall’s declaration of God’s intent is staggering in it’s arrogance. Is every child born after the mother has had an abortion delivered with handicaps? Of course not. Are some children
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I have loved watching the Olympic skiing. I sit slack-jawed as I watch Bode Miller and Lindsay Vonn attack the slopes with absolute abandon. I have skiied a little over the years although, to be authentic, my form more closely resembles Herman Munster on skis than Bode Miller. Still I have experienced enough to know how amazing and fearless these athletes are. They come down the mountain on the absolute edge, pushing their limits with each run. I found myself desiring a little more of that in my own life. Not the skiing part. If I attempted what Bode Miller did yesterday you would be planning a lovely memorial for me at a local chapel. But I would like to take that attitude of fearlessness and living on the edge to my spiritual race. I have too often been tentative and uncertain. A skiier has to trust that if he puts his full weight on the skis and into the turn that
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A story we heard from some dear friends keeps weighing on my mind. This couple had left Valentine gifts for their grandchild at his home. When asked after Valentines how he liked his gift my friend got a blank look from the grandchild. He said he had not received a gift. Hoping that he had forgotten or misunderstood the couple contacted the boy’s parents. “Did you receive the gifts?”“Yes.”“Did you give them to Billy?”“No, he has not been good enough to get any gifts.” My friend’s hearts were broken. The gift to their grandchild was given in love with no behavioral strings attached. They did not care if he had been good or bad. The gift was given simply because they loved him. The message sent to this boy is damaging both emotionally and spiritually. You must earn good gifts. If you don’t do right things you will not get good gifts. My heart hurt for my friends and for this
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It was six years ago this month that my father died. I miss him and I find myself loading up the iPod with the music he loved. Listening to the songs I grew up with makes me smile and remember him with great fondness. One of those songs was an old hymn sung by the Man in Black, Johnny Cash. It is a song that covers a lot of theology and provides a lot of comfort for me as I miss my dad. There was a time on Earth when in the books of HeavenThat an Old Account was standin’ for sins yet unforgivenMy name was at the top there was many things belowBut I went unto the keeper and I settled it long ago Long ago,yes long ago I said the Old Account was settled long agoAnd my record’s clear today ’cause he washed my sins awayAnd the Old Account was settled long ago And that, in simple iPod theology,
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Every Valentine’s Day for the past five years has been different. Oh, I have the same Valentine but having her as my Valentine means a little more each year. In just five weeks we will celebrate four years as a cancer survivor for my bride. Walking with Joni through eleven long months of chemotherapy and radiation made my love and appreciation for her grow even deeper. I was listening to the old iPod and a song by the Turtles summed up the current state of the marital union. Cue booming announcer voice… Let’s take you back forty years to the spring of 1967 when a California rock group hit number one with this song…Happy Together. I think about you day and night, it’s only rightTo think about the girl you love and hold her tightSo happy together I can’t see me lovin’ nobody but youFor all my lifeWhen you’re with me, baby the skies’ll be blueFor all my life We are so happy to be together. More than ever. Solomon wrote
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A song by Rascal Flatts made me ponder a larger question today. The song is called “My Wish” and the lyrics are really nice. My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to, Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small, You never need to carry more than you can hold, And while you’re out there getting where you’re getting to, I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too, Yeah, this, is my wish. We wish a lot of things that good. We wish good health for those we like and love. We wish that friends and family will prosper. But if I could have one wish for you what would it be? I think I would wish that every one would be able to experience the safety and acceptance of a community of grace. And if that wish is too big then I would wish for a room
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They woke up Punxsutawney Phil Tuesday morning long enough for the prognosticating rodent to let us know whether six more weeks of winter must be endured. According to Phil you should plan on bundling up for next month and a half. Phil looks about as happy as I do when when I am disturbed in the morning. Seventeen years ago a funny and underappreciated  movie came on the scene. Groundhog Day told the story of a self-absorbed news reporter (redundancy alert?) that finds himself stuck in an endless repeat of the same day. Bill Murray is perfect in the role of reporter Phil Connors. Since I live in the odd world of broadcast television I can relate to the cynical personality of Murray’s character. Reporter Phil is less than thrilled that he has been assigned to cover Punxsutawney Phil’s annual peek outside to predict winter’s duration. He feels he is “above” such an inane assignment. Connor’s looks into the camera and cynically reports:
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