Texas Senators #Fail

Beretta Model 96G semi-auto pistol

You’ve embarassed Texas, again, John Cornyn. You and the junior embarrassment from the state of Texas Ted Cruz have illustrated what’s wrong with politics today and what it’s like for a state to be led by not one but two spineless men afraid of the NRA. Instead of having the courage to take a stand for what’s right, you both voted against Manchin-Toomey. I agree it would not have fixed the overall problem, but it was a solid, reasonable (and daresay bipartisan) step toward RESPONSIBLY dealing with gun violence without tromping on our precious 2nd Amendment rights.

In your news release criticizing Barack Obama for calling the actions of the 46 “shameful,” you decry him for “taking the low road” and vow that politics had nothing to do with your motivation. Are you serious?

I’m sure, Senator Ted Cruz that the National Rifle Association is pleased with the $10,150 (5th most 2011-12) they invested in your campaign last year as they DEFINITELY got what they wanted. And Senator John Cornyn, you were much cheaper last year as they only funneled you $500. (Oh–that’s because they bought you in 2008 for $8,950.)

Texas’ Austin American-Statesman reports

90 percent of Americans and 74 percent of NRA members support criminal background checks before all gun buys.

I can’t find the statistics for Texas and although we tend to be behind-the-curve on progressive ideas (you know, like desegregation, marriage equality, and mandatory background checks for firearm purchases), but I can’t imagine we’re that far off. I’ll bet a state poll shows a majority of “your constituents” (that would be all of us who live here) were denied a vote that represented the majority of us.

And you talk about visiting with the families of the Newtown victims. I myself haven’t met any of them but I’m willing to bet they consider your move political and, at the very least, cowardly.

Like your stances on marriage equality and immigration reform, history will judge you, senators, for being on the wrong side of the issue. Again. Hopefully, the memories of the children slain in Newtown will eat at your collective conscience as will the heartbreaking report of every single person heretofore killed by a weapon obtained through one of the loopholes you were too cowardly to close.

Senators: I am from Texas and I AM the 90%. I am here to remind you of your failure to Texans and the American people. Shame on you both.

As you pointed out in your news release, “there is a way forward.” Perhaps it must be found without you.

Nulla dies sine linea

i really need to start writing again.

Walter Benjamin, from his book “Reflections: Essays, Aphorisms, Autobiographical Writings”

how many ideas delayed! how many creative moments postponed!

in her book Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, Anne Lamott wrote,

“You begin to string words together like beads to tell a story. You are desperate to communicate, to edify or entertain, to preserve moments of grace or joy or transcendence, to make real or imagined events come alive. But you cannot will this to happen. It is a matter of persistence and faith and hard work. So you might as well just go ahead and get started.”

How true.

I just gotta get started. Even if it’s just one line a day.

A Natural History: Jill McDonough

Reblogged from The Owls:

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A Natural History of My Marriage

Text and Photos by Jill McDonough

The first time I saw her, May 2, 1999, I felt like I had just been plunked down from a future in which we’d been together for decades, and I had to convince her it was me.  The first time I heard her name felt like the first time I effortlessly understood overheard conversation in another language.  

Read more… 841 more words

See: we love just like everyone else.

10 Reasons to OPPOSE #MarriageEquality

Ready to write

Tonight some friends and I began a 3-day spiritual journey of sorts, to be experienced as a part of community. But tonight–just silence and reflection. No social media, no email checking, and minimal outside contact.

Ok I got this. I can do this. An unfinished book on “being, better” I carry in my bag. Some journaling I otherwise never have time to do in my precious but still too empty moleskine.

Among the brief list of what to bring, they said, “your favorite pen.” Easy! I love pens and because I have my man-bag, I always have pens. (I wasn’t Mr. Uni-Ball® runner-up 2005 for nothing!)

So I get all prepared for bed and reflection time and pull out my book and moleskine. And I begin looking for a pen–perhaps that new Uni-Ball® Vision Elite 0.5mm blue pen I love to write with. Or that small pen I got at a trade show that they said was developed for an astronaut. I love that pen.

And would you believe ALL I have in my bag….

Two thick-tipped sharpies.

Not a single pen. Just sharpies.

Seriously?

Why Everyone Hates Couples

Reblogged from Hommemaker:

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Dear Couples,

The other day I looked at my boyfriend and asked him what he wanted to do for Valentines Day. "Nothing, I'm not big into Valentines Day," he replied. At which point I burst into tears and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind me. Just kidding. No I didn't. Because I also hate Valentines Day. Because I have been single for my whole life, this holiday conjures up images of me sitting alone on my bed watching…

Read more… 2,124 more words

Love this take on Valentine's and couples. Of course #6 hasn't happened to us ... yet. ;) hahaha

the Christmas breakfast casserole

a young woman of 18 with goals and plans and a man who at one point declared his desire to marry her, had a child she would eventually give up to what she believed to be a better life. that child was me.

i found my way to another woman who wanted a child but couldn’t have one and her husband who gave me his name, thrilling his eager mother who wanted a grandchild.

that adopted family didn’t last and after a few tumultuous years, i  found myself back in the home of his strong-willed and loving mother, then 43, who had petitioned the son and her husband, then age 47, to let them raise me.

so there i stayed to be raised as their son.

there were 5 grandchildren close in age i would grow up adjacent to and wonderful aunts and uncles and cousins we would celebrate holidays and birthdays and graduations with.

as a pre-teen i would enter in and then out of relationship with the woman who gave me life. my adopted mother would watch it all closeby and reluctantly but gracefully give her blessing.

years later, i would start my own family and try to make a good home for my sons–largely because of the unfailing encouragement of my mother–despite some heartache along the way.

i later extended my family by marrying a woman with two sons of her own who became as my own blood, and my sons, as hers.

i regained my relationship with my birth mother and in the process was united with an awesome baby brother who shared my blood. that reunion also yielded me the most delightful aunts a person could hope for.

an all too few years later, he and i lost our mother and a new heartache set in. though it never disappeared, it eventually dulled by being discovered by more siblings—a brother and three sisters—and an opportunity to make peace with the biological father we shared. to have, after a lifetime, relationship with siblings who were like me and accepted me so generously was, and remains, a thrill.

i would find myself in and out of a couple relationships.

the sons would go on to graduate (only 1 to go).

yet always nearby…always in my corner…always praying for and encouraging me…was my biggest champion, fan, friend, mother.

and now she is gone.

i know she would not have me sad. she would remind me to count it all joy—all the heartache and the struggle and the trials. she would encourage me to rejoice always for there is much good in my life.

so in the spirit of “counting my blessings” as I can still hear her sing, i recall what i do have:

• i have these sons—oh the complete and utter joy they bring me with their laughter, their sincere hugs, the way they love, the strength that runs through their veins, their compassion.
• i have these siblings—relationships i’ve always desired—and they are amazing, every one. and the one who is my adopted sibling, now an orphan himself, remains gentle and kind even as  he was when i was growing up, despite his difficulties and demons.
• i have honorable nieces and nephews whose loyalty and devotion to our family remind me that family transcends blood. and their vibrant children’s beauty and happy laughter echo up our family tree and honor those who have gone before us.
• i have lovely aunts—who continually remind me of their love for and pride in me—and cousins—who reassert my membership in the family—abound.
• and oh the friends! i have been comforted by knowing just how many precious and dear friends i am blessed with—from those that started in kindergarten to those i’ve only recently been graced relationship; to co-workers, friends of my mother, fellow wine lovers, dear church friends–old and new, tweeps, and sister-friends and brother-friends, all of whom hold me in their hearts.
• and i’ve had an amazing man by my side who gently and patiently supported me and my family through every moment of these past few weeks along with my own family’s matriarch whose example of love and devotion will stand for the ages as a testament to the type of woman my mother was.

so on Christmas morning, as i prepare to put my traditional breakfast casserole in the oven, it hits me that my mother won’t be coming over to join us. i am confronted with the heartbreaking reality that i am now left behind as a motherless child.

but the reality is, that my path in life has left me neither bereft nor alone.

not at all.

so we will eat–and enjoy–the breakfast casserole. and we will remember my mother fondly.

she’s always been reaching for heaven.

i see her now, laying there.

hurting.
weary.
delirious.
there. but not there.

every few minutes–sometimes amid the stupor of the pain medicine, other times between its effect–she stretches her arms upward….

the act was curious to us at first. so we googled:

These symptoms may be caused by reduced oxygen to the brain, metabolic changes, dehydration, pain medications, or a combination of these.

it goes on to talk about “terminal delirium,” a state of being when a person is near death.

for weeks now we’ve exchanged knowing looks: her condition itself may not be imminently terminal but we sense that she is ready–even longing–for that journey.

so it makes sense that “reaching out toward heaven” would be among what could be her final acts in this life.

“reaching toward heaven” has been a way of life for our family’s matriarch. she’s attempted to direct us kids there. through countless acts of humble service, she’s modeled what it looks like to walk, armed with faith and hope, the narrow road–the one that’s less traveled and harder to follow–that would help lead one there. if you called her in the morning or in the early afternoon, she’d say she was just reading her Bible, comforting herself with the many promises it contains. and among my favorite illustrations of this heavenward posture is her soaring alto voice. i think i shall miss that most of all.

as i sit here unable to sleep, listening to her breath, i ponder this moment.

 

i don’t know if this is the end or not. 

it feels like it might be.
and it occurs to me that her outstretched arms might be a sign.

 

or just another act of a Godly woman with a heavenward state of mind.

my nest is now empty

Well the nest is empty.

As of this moment, for first time in over 21 years, I will have no children living with me.

The firstborn, who’s been mostly out of the house for some time, is now aloft, healed from his awful cancer and determined to find his way and make a place for himself. We both know it is his time.

The baby on this branch of our family tree is now moved into his new environment and out of my home for the first time in 19 years and some days.

During our prolonged goodbye at my car (I’d forgotten to leave him with pens and a sharpie!), which took up about 20 minutes, he reflected:

“I know I’ll always have a home with you. I’m gonna have to get used to this being my home and you not being here.”

And then, just as he non-chalantly eased into kindergarten that first day back in August 1999, so he did into college in August 2012.

A quick turn of the head back to me.
A flash of that same joyful, confident smile absent apprehension, eager to jump into what the future holds.

Now as I head back to gather the last of my belongings and embark on on next phase of my life, my heart sheds a tiny tear…and smiles…

Knowing it is time to let go.
Knowing I did the very best I could.
Knowing they will be ok.

As will I.

Jesus of Nazareth would not eat Chick-Fil-A

Christianity will be embarrassed today and its witness further eroded by the throngs of Christian-identified peoples and other bigots lining up to celebrate Chick-Fil-A’s “brave stand” in the matter of using the Bible as justification for the marginalization of homosexuals and the ensuing attempt to deny gay and lesbian American citizens equal rights.

In Truett Cathy, Chick-Fil-A,  and their delicious ‘chikin’ sandwiches served with a side of hate, the religious right has finally found a new champion in its quest to promote its agenda of bigotry, hate, and discrimination all snugly wrapped up in biblical justification and a side of waffle fries. Not that finding such a business was easy. Sure, you can go to thousands of churches on any given Sunday and hear these un-Christian messages proclaimed from their altars. But to find a business willing to state that it is openly willing to discriminate against a subset of American citizens—well that is an accomplishment indeed; I can imagine the Right hopes Chick-Fil-A becomes their coup de grâce in this “holy war.”

Am I upset that these people are exercising their first amendment right to freedom of religion, speech, and peaceful assembly (which would include eating aforementioned delicious chikin)? Absolutely not; in fact, I am exercising mine similarly, only refusing to spend my money at Chick-Fil-A.

But I am sorely disappointed that Christian people—those who purposefully claim to follow Christ’s example of love—fail to stand against such bigotry and even hypocrisy. I even have Christian friends (though not after today…more on that in tomorrow’s blog) who are  posting statuses about and even going there today!

There is absolutely so much hate and ignorance in this stand that  it is beyond my comprehension to understand. The photo recently taken of the Palins (which I won’t show here) giving a thumbs-up is just disgusting. I can only compare it to someone with their to-go order giving a thumbs up in front of an establishment refusing to take down their “Whites Only” signs.

Though history shows us countless examples otherwise, Christians know better than to behave like this. Beyond political disagreements about what rights a United States citizen should have (i.e. marriage equality), celebrating the discrimination of another human being is wholly opposed to the message of the Jesus these people claim to follow. In fact, I believe our Bible calls for a completely different kind of activism.

What people should be asking (and i know this is cliché) is not

“Would Sarah Palin eat at Chick-Fil-A?”
(and the answer is “of course she would; her son uses the word fag as an insult”)

but

“Would your Jesus eat at Chick-Fil-A?”

I maintain that he would not.

So to those of you, particularly Christ-followers, celebrating Chick-Fil-A’s “brave stand,” shame on you. Though you have every right to patronize them as do I to boycott them, our God teaches otherwise—and in far more abundance scripturally than the seven verses you use to attempt to discriminate against me, other homosexuals, and our families.

I hope that as you eat your “delicious chikin,” waffle fries, and that amazing honey-roasted barbeque sauce, you’re able to discern that curious bitter taste and that it stays with you in the form of an uncomfortable spiritual indigestion.

Because that taste and that uncomfortable feeling are the remnants of hate which you spent money on and allowed to nourish your body.

You really know better.

Related posts: Open Response to Rick Perry
and
Friends of Gays Everywhere, It’s Time for Tough Love