I heard the news just before bedtime last night. We had eradicated Osama Bin Laden. This morning the details of a carefully planned and executed attack are still emerging. The reaction in Washington and other major cities is one of jubilation.
It’s hard for me to celebrate the taking of anyone’s life, even someone so evil that most of us still have an indellible vision of the damage that resulted from Osama Bin Laden’s fanatical crusade to destroy our beloved country.
My husband, whose idea of law and order is similar to that of a posse in an old western film, and I, who cherish life even when it is twisted and distorted, will disagree on many things, but will agree that no tears will be shed for the monster who orchestrated the event that has given all Americans a different idea about how secure we might be. The very idea of convincing young men in the prime of their life that they would be rewarded with dates and virgins for performing such a vile act is beyond my comprehension.
Who knows what new despot will emerge from this mess, but I’m beginning to see a glimmer of hope for civilization, although the prospect for it still seems somewhat distant. That hope eventually may lie in the ability to communicate freely and peacefully.
Maybe this is the beginning of a new era, perhaps even the hoped for Messianic Age when we’ll all live in harmony. Maybe the voices of hope and love will become louder than the voice of revenge and evil. I don’t know that I actually believe in that possibility completely yet, but I can imagine it happening, and that’s a start.
Blessings,
Janie
Showing posts with label Peace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peace. Show all posts
Monday, May 2, 2011
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Let There be Peace on Earth
September 11….We’ve gotten through nine of these now, and none of us are the same, are we? I guess that’s not surprising, but the changes this year kind of jumped up and grabbed me.
I did the same things I did on that day, got up, ate a bite of breakfast, read the paper….Only today was a weekend, and I wasn’t on my way to work. Walker was lazing around with me, no longer off flying the skies as he was that morning. But there was a hummingbird on the feeder when I went out to water my plants this afternoon, just as there was on that awful day. I could feel fall approaching that day too, but today the roar from the television was that of SEC football, not an endless reel of those planes crashing into the towers.
Our family now includes four more grandsons born since that day. The landscape around the house has matured providing more privacy. My waistline and my mind have both expanded, hopefully one a bit more than the other. My computer has had several reincarnations, some loved ones have also moved on.
This year, though, there is a different spirit in the air in our country. There is more unrest and anger toward those who damaged our world than I’ve seen in all the nine years since it happened. Fortunately, some of the more radical voices have been moved to a lower timbre by the more reasoned ones. But it’s like our society has collectively entered a new phase of grieving, the phase when you’re really angry at someone…anyone…you’re just plain angry.
Every year when I attend the Grandparents Day program at our grandsons’ school, I am swept away with patriotism inspired by the recognition of grandparents who have fought for our country, recitation and singing of patriotic songs and verse, a presentation by a color guard of ROTC students from a nearby public high school, and an inspirational speech, usually given by a celebrity with some connection to our community. For the past several years, I’ve been struck by the contrast between the assembly of fresh-faced elementary school boys who will almost to a man have a choice about whether they serve their country and the young men who could be on the front lines within the year, some from choice, others because of lack of choices.
Every year, tears come to my eyes when I realize how much I don’t want any of these young folks to fight any kind of a war, no matter how sterile it might become. I don’t want any of them to have war stories tucked away inside their heads for the rest of their lives that are too painful to unpack. While I feel a pride when I see my husband rise when the Army guys are recognized, I know that in my heart of hearts I don't want any of my grandsons, or my grandaughter, to have to ever have to agree to kill or be killed.
Today, like on that day nine years ago, the song rattling around in my head as I puttered around in the yard was “Let There be Peace on Earth”. (For an outstanding rendition go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dCzEq1DKPYA&feature=related )
I know that my most basic desire is for Peace because peace means that my family will be safe. I’ll bet there are some mothers of would be terrorists who have the same desire. I’m going to pray for all the mothers and grandmothers of the world to join me in making this song our goal. Let us work to influence those young minds to find ways to share in all the generous gifts of a gracious God…whatever his or her name might be.
Blessings,
Janie
I did the same things I did on that day, got up, ate a bite of breakfast, read the paper….Only today was a weekend, and I wasn’t on my way to work. Walker was lazing around with me, no longer off flying the skies as he was that morning. But there was a hummingbird on the feeder when I went out to water my plants this afternoon, just as there was on that awful day. I could feel fall approaching that day too, but today the roar from the television was that of SEC football, not an endless reel of those planes crashing into the towers.
Our family now includes four more grandsons born since that day. The landscape around the house has matured providing more privacy. My waistline and my mind have both expanded, hopefully one a bit more than the other. My computer has had several reincarnations, some loved ones have also moved on.
This year, though, there is a different spirit in the air in our country. There is more unrest and anger toward those who damaged our world than I’ve seen in all the nine years since it happened. Fortunately, some of the more radical voices have been moved to a lower timbre by the more reasoned ones. But it’s like our society has collectively entered a new phase of grieving, the phase when you’re really angry at someone…anyone…you’re just plain angry.
Every year when I attend the Grandparents Day program at our grandsons’ school, I am swept away with patriotism inspired by the recognition of grandparents who have fought for our country, recitation and singing of patriotic songs and verse, a presentation by a color guard of ROTC students from a nearby public high school, and an inspirational speech, usually given by a celebrity with some connection to our community. For the past several years, I’ve been struck by the contrast between the assembly of fresh-faced elementary school boys who will almost to a man have a choice about whether they serve their country and the young men who could be on the front lines within the year, some from choice, others because of lack of choices.
Every year, tears come to my eyes when I realize how much I don’t want any of these young folks to fight any kind of a war, no matter how sterile it might become. I don’t want any of them to have war stories tucked away inside their heads for the rest of their lives that are too painful to unpack. While I feel a pride when I see my husband rise when the Army guys are recognized, I know that in my heart of hearts I don't want any of my grandsons, or my grandaughter, to have to ever have to agree to kill or be killed.
Today, like on that day nine years ago, the song rattling around in my head as I puttered around in the yard was “Let There be Peace on Earth”. (For an outstanding rendition go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dCzEq1DKPYA&feature=related )
I know that my most basic desire is for Peace because peace means that my family will be safe. I’ll bet there are some mothers of would be terrorists who have the same desire. I’m going to pray for all the mothers and grandmothers of the world to join me in making this song our goal. Let us work to influence those young minds to find ways to share in all the generous gifts of a gracious God…whatever his or her name might be.
Blessings,
Janie
Monday, December 28, 2009
Review of 'The Road'
I read the novel The Road by Cormack McCarthy while visiting Sarah and Ned over Thanksgiving. It was a kind of default choice; I just happened upon it in a box of books Sarah and Ned were moving out of the nursery. The movie, based on the book, finally opened in Memphis and I saw it yesterday afternoon with two friends who were probably humoring my interest rather than their own.
All of us found the film well done, hard to watch, but fascinating. I found both the book and the film to contain much more of a message of hope than most others I’ve talked with seem to find.
Watching a man and his son traveling and living off the land in seach of food and safety in a post-apocalyptic world is grim. There were many frightening images during their fight for survival, but I came away from the film feeling that there were also several important messages. The first is how deep mankind’s desire for survival must be. The second how very, very necessary it is to pass along our ideals of protecting and conserving our planet and helping others to our children if we expect our species to survive. These ideals are tempered with a strong dose of reality that there are “good guys and bad guys” and that sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference, but we can decide to be the good guys no matter what.
Sally and Aleine and I differed on whether we’d recommend the movie to a friend. I vote yes, because it is beautifully and artistically done and because I saw a message of hope for mankind.
In these frightening times it’s sometimes hard to stay focused on making choices for good. I hope I do a better job of it in the coming year.
Blessings,
Janie
All of us found the film well done, hard to watch, but fascinating. I found both the book and the film to contain much more of a message of hope than most others I’ve talked with seem to find.
Watching a man and his son traveling and living off the land in seach of food and safety in a post-apocalyptic world is grim. There were many frightening images during their fight for survival, but I came away from the film feeling that there were also several important messages. The first is how deep mankind’s desire for survival must be. The second how very, very necessary it is to pass along our ideals of protecting and conserving our planet and helping others to our children if we expect our species to survive. These ideals are tempered with a strong dose of reality that there are “good guys and bad guys” and that sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference, but we can decide to be the good guys no matter what.
Sally and Aleine and I differed on whether we’d recommend the movie to a friend. I vote yes, because it is beautifully and artistically done and because I saw a message of hope for mankind.
In these frightening times it’s sometimes hard to stay focused on making choices for good. I hope I do a better job of it in the coming year.
Blessings,
Janie
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Let There be Peace
"Until we stop harming all other living beings, we are still savages." - Thomas Jefferson, 3rd U.S. President
I was going through the mail today when I picked up a copy of a Pottery Barn magazine aimed at "tweens" and noted as I showed it to Becket that the back cover was filled with items featuring a peace logo. As I looked further, there were also polka dots, and camo, and lots of girly stuff, but it's the peace logo that has me thinking.
I almost wrote about peace for Veteran’s Day, but just couldn’t sort out all the jumble of thoughts in my mind.
Walker and I attended Grandparent’s Day at Presbyterian Day School to see our kindergarten aged grandsons in their debut performance in the big church. The bi-annual performance always has a glorious focus on patriotism and hearing a chorus of little boys sing many of the same patriotic songs I sang as a youth initially made me beam.
The performance began with an ROTC color guard from one of our local high schools, and as these fine very young men entered I suddenly teared up. The reality that many of these young men might actually volunteer to face real battle in the next few years contrasted starkly with the innocence of the beautiful younger boys singing battle songs. When they played the Army anthem, my husband stood along with a decreasing number of veterans honoring the corps. A bit of tear crept down my cheek as he stood beside me. (Okay, I’m kind of weepy lately…so sue me!)
I was born to a “war bride”, and served three years as a military wife. One of those years was spent anxiously awaiting news of my husband who was flying a little plane, not much bigger than a bicycle, over Viet Nam, being shot at in his tent at night and adjusting artillary to get the bad guys by day. I can still remember holding back my heaving stomach as I boarded a plane in San Francisco just before Walker’s deployment, cuddling my five week old baby, and knowing that I might never see her father again.
I watch the military families on the news or in airports as they adjust to holidays, feeling the absence of one parent or the other, for now many of our servicemen are women, and grieve for every one of them. I don’t care how patriotic you might be, every mother and wife and every child grieves seeing loved ones off at war.
On the other hand, I know that I never want to feel the alarm and fear that followed September 11, ever again…but I do. There are actually people who want to kill me because I’m an American who believes in a God of Peace. I’m glad there are brave men and women willing to give up their holidays, and perhaps their lives, to keep me safe.
Peace to me is not just the illusion that we experience in the U. S. all because there’s no active conflict here. Peace is something that the world deserves to enjoy.
Peace means that we all respect each other, regardless of how we look or worship. Peace means that no women live in terror of the men in their world, are not beaten, or even killed, for an indiscretion. It means that all the citizens of the world have enough to eat and productive jobs to do. It means that we don’t take things from each other, even when the temptation is great.
Peace means that those who disobey these standards spend their lives isolated so they can do no harm, but that vengeance does not lead good people to do violence even when it’s for the right reason.
I’m not sure whether Peace requires men to stop lusting after their neighbor’s wives or coveting his ox and ass...honoring our parents is nice…up to a point. I’m not going to go through all Ten Commandments, you can look them up if you like. I don’t set a really high bar…just don’t hurt others deliberately.
For now, I hope I live to see some semblance of world peace. In the meantime I give thanks for those who fight for it, celebrate those who fought to earn the degree of it we enjoy today, and hope for peace in my own heart, my family, and my community. That would be a great start. Go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MO5CqyMPL8Q for my favorite song about peace, or just listen to your radio, the Christmas Carols are full of the most important message of all. Peace.
Blessings,
Janie
I was going through the mail today when I picked up a copy of a Pottery Barn magazine aimed at "tweens" and noted as I showed it to Becket that the back cover was filled with items featuring a peace logo. As I looked further, there were also polka dots, and camo, and lots of girly stuff, but it's the peace logo that has me thinking.
I almost wrote about peace for Veteran’s Day, but just couldn’t sort out all the jumble of thoughts in my mind.
Walker and I attended Grandparent’s Day at Presbyterian Day School to see our kindergarten aged grandsons in their debut performance in the big church. The bi-annual performance always has a glorious focus on patriotism and hearing a chorus of little boys sing many of the same patriotic songs I sang as a youth initially made me beam.
The performance began with an ROTC color guard from one of our local high schools, and as these fine very young men entered I suddenly teared up. The reality that many of these young men might actually volunteer to face real battle in the next few years contrasted starkly with the innocence of the beautiful younger boys singing battle songs. When they played the Army anthem, my husband stood along with a decreasing number of veterans honoring the corps. A bit of tear crept down my cheek as he stood beside me. (Okay, I’m kind of weepy lately…so sue me!)
I was born to a “war bride”, and served three years as a military wife. One of those years was spent anxiously awaiting news of my husband who was flying a little plane, not much bigger than a bicycle, over Viet Nam, being shot at in his tent at night and adjusting artillary to get the bad guys by day. I can still remember holding back my heaving stomach as I boarded a plane in San Francisco just before Walker’s deployment, cuddling my five week old baby, and knowing that I might never see her father again.
I watch the military families on the news or in airports as they adjust to holidays, feeling the absence of one parent or the other, for now many of our servicemen are women, and grieve for every one of them. I don’t care how patriotic you might be, every mother and wife and every child grieves seeing loved ones off at war.
On the other hand, I know that I never want to feel the alarm and fear that followed September 11, ever again…but I do. There are actually people who want to kill me because I’m an American who believes in a God of Peace. I’m glad there are brave men and women willing to give up their holidays, and perhaps their lives, to keep me safe.
Peace to me is not just the illusion that we experience in the U. S. all because there’s no active conflict here. Peace is something that the world deserves to enjoy.
Peace means that we all respect each other, regardless of how we look or worship. Peace means that no women live in terror of the men in their world, are not beaten, or even killed, for an indiscretion. It means that all the citizens of the world have enough to eat and productive jobs to do. It means that we don’t take things from each other, even when the temptation is great.
Peace means that those who disobey these standards spend their lives isolated so they can do no harm, but that vengeance does not lead good people to do violence even when it’s for the right reason.
I’m not sure whether Peace requires men to stop lusting after their neighbor’s wives or coveting his ox and ass...honoring our parents is nice…up to a point. I’m not going to go through all Ten Commandments, you can look them up if you like. I don’t set a really high bar…just don’t hurt others deliberately.
For now, I hope I live to see some semblance of world peace. In the meantime I give thanks for those who fight for it, celebrate those who fought to earn the degree of it we enjoy today, and hope for peace in my own heart, my family, and my community. That would be a great start. Go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MO5CqyMPL8Q for my favorite song about peace, or just listen to your radio, the Christmas Carols are full of the most important message of all. Peace.
Blessings,
Janie
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