It didn't come as a shock that Obama won the presidency, even though I cast my vote for McCain. I understand that people voted for the person that they thought could best help us out of this mess that our country is currently in. I want to believe that Americans voted for Obama in spite of his radical position on abortion and not because of it. We need to pray that God will give him the wisdom to lead our country, and maybe in the process, he will come to understand his error on this one position.
If pro-lifers can take any hope out of this election, however, it is with the fact that it is possible to change hearts. 40 years ago, it would have been unthinkable for a black man to be president. In this election, race wasn't even a big issue. We as a country have come a long way during that time and that is a good thing.
Over the past several years, the pro-life movement has done a great deal to help change people's hearts and we will continue to do so, because regardless of the law, if women truly know and believe that they are carrying a child and if they have an abortion, they are killing a living being, abortion is going to end. I firmly believe that.
In my own state, we just voted to end dog racing because it was cruel to the dogs. We are a people that care about animals. We care about living things. We just need to keep getting the message across that unborn babies are living creatures. It's a child, not a choice. It is possible to change hearts. Yesterday's election proved that.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Waiting in Line to Vote
Our schedule was just jam-packed today, so my husband and I took the boys and went to go vote at 7 a.m. I couldn't believe it - we actually had to wait in line. How awesome is that! There were a good 50 - 60 people ahead of us! It was wonderful to see so many people out there exercising their right to vote. I told my boys that they need to remember this day and how important and historical this election is. The first election I can remember was in 1980 when I was nearly 6, so I am hoping that my boys are old enough to remember this one so that they can tell their grandchildren about it someday.
Monday, November 03, 2008
NaNoWriMo continued
After further thought, I decided I would attempt National Novel Writing Month after all. I know that there is no way I will write 50,000 words this month. I'm not willing to sacrifice my other obligations in order to accomplish this. I still need to take care of the kids and get my work done, but I'm going to see how much I can get done in the month. A good idea for a story came to me on Friday. I am by no means writing the great American novel. It may not even end up being very good, but the point of the writing month is just to do it to see if you can, to see what comes out when you make the effort. At some level, I've always wanted to right a novel. I figure this is my chance. So, from time to time this month I will post my current word count.
For the record, I am currently at 3167.
For the record, I am currently at 3167.
Can We Stop Complaining?
Susan Hines-Brigger wrote a great article "Can We Stop Complaining?" for the November 2008 issue of St. Anthony's Messenger. Complaining is considered just a part of life in our society. Perhaps we are just born with an innate desire to complain. I know I complained quite a bit as a child, and my children certainly have no problem expressing their displeasure with things. Complaining can be useful when it serves to rectify the problem. Complaining just to complain, however, does nothing but put a negative spin on life. Hines-Brigger writes of Rev. Will Bowen, minister of Christ Church Unity in Kansas, who encouraged his parishioners to give up complaining for 21 days (long enough to make it a habit). The website acomplaintfreeworld.org/ features bracelets and educational programs designed to help people realize the value of not complaining. There is even a push to have the day before Thanksgiving declared "National Complaint-Free Day." That makes sense because complaining is the opposite of being thankful. If we are complaining, we are saying that we do not appreciate what we have.
So, I invite all of you to take up the challenge. Try to take notice of when you complain and try to stop yourself before the words come out of your mouth. Yes, you may find that you need to talk less, but before you know it, you will find that there are many other positive things to say.
So, I invite all of you to take up the challenge. Try to take notice of when you complain and try to stop yourself before the words come out of your mouth. Yes, you may find that you need to talk less, but before you know it, you will find that there are many other positive things to say.
A Precious Gift - You!
A Guest Post by Janet Cassidy:
When I was in the parking lot after grocery shopping the other day, I saw a mom talking on her cell phone. Her young son was sort of hanging around the car, occasionally getting yelled at for something he was doing. It occurred to me how easy it is for us to ignore our children because we are preoccupied in conversations with people who are not even present to us.
It's easy to be preoccupied with computers, as well. Have you ever had one of your children try to talk to you while you were playing a game or instant messaging on the computer? Was it so important that you could not stop for just a minute and give them your full attention? Sometimes I think the things that keep us the busiest are actually things we use as diversions.
How often have you missed a great opportunity to interact with your child because it seemed more important to be grumbling or gossiping with someone else? How many precious moments have slipped by you? Just imagine what it feels like to be a kid around you while you are doing this!
Kids love their precious moments with Mom and Dad. Please don't take them for granted. Give your kids the gift of you.
God bless,
Janet
Please visit my website at www.janetcassidy.com for more news and commentary, including my blog!
When I was in the parking lot after grocery shopping the other day, I saw a mom talking on her cell phone. Her young son was sort of hanging around the car, occasionally getting yelled at for something he was doing. It occurred to me how easy it is for us to ignore our children because we are preoccupied in conversations with people who are not even present to us.
It's easy to be preoccupied with computers, as well. Have you ever had one of your children try to talk to you while you were playing a game or instant messaging on the computer? Was it so important that you could not stop for just a minute and give them your full attention? Sometimes I think the things that keep us the busiest are actually things we use as diversions.
How often have you missed a great opportunity to interact with your child because it seemed more important to be grumbling or gossiping with someone else? How many precious moments have slipped by you? Just imagine what it feels like to be a kid around you while you are doing this!
Kids love their precious moments with Mom and Dad. Please don't take them for granted. Give your kids the gift of you.
God bless,
Janet
Please visit my website at www.janetcassidy.com for more news and commentary, including my blog!
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Protecting Children while Defending Families
The situation could happen anywhere. A five-year old child is horribly abused by the people who are supposed to care most for her. Sadly, it happens far too often. A recent case of such abuse prompted a letter to the editor at “The Republican” newspaper of Springfield, Massachusetts to inquire whether the child was in school. The writer felt that if the child was in a pre-school or Kindergarten program, perhaps this tragedy could have been averted. Perhaps someone would have noticed that all was not right with this child and been able to help her. The writer went on to argue for universal access to pre-school for all because it becomes a safe-haven for so many children. Access to pre-school is certainly not a bad thing. It should be available for all those who want and need it. What happens, however, when the argument becomes that only the government and social service institutions are equipped to adequately protect our children? Does this mean that all children should be in day care as well? Should a government representative have contact with every child from the time of birth to make sure he or she is well cared for?
Society as a whole obviously has a responsibility to protect the most vulnerable among us. Children should never be mistreated. Many parents, for a variety of reasons, have difficulty providing their children with a nurturing environment. Social service agencies can certainly help protect children and help to educate children when parents aren't up for the task. The Church can help as well.
In the wake of the sexual abuse crisis in the Church, the Bishops put forth the 2002 Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People. The Bishops wanted to make sure that abuse was never tolerated again in the Church. To achieve this end, certain norms were set in place. Every employee and volunteer who works with children in Churches, Catholic Schools, or Catholic sponsored activities must have a background check. They also must receive training on how to recognize and report child abuse. In addition, children in Catholic Schools and Religious Education programs are to be taught what constitutes abuse and what to do about it when it happens to them. According to the 2007 nationwide audit, nearly 94% of Dioceses are in compliance with these requirements.
For a little over a year, I have been the Child Advocate for my parish. This means that I am responsible for making sure every employee and volunteer completes their background check and watches a video on recognizing child abuse. I am also responsible for making sure that the education programs take place in the school and religious education program. Most of the adults who need to complete the background checks and watch the video are understanding. They know the reality of the world we live in and the reasons why we need to be as sure as we can that the people who work with our children are not predators. The process itself serves as a deterrent to anyone who might have plans to do harm to our children. The video is very informative and explains exactly what abuse is, and is not, how to recognize it, and how to report it.
The education programs, however, are not met with the same enthusiasm or tolerance. In general, no one wants to touch them with a ten-foot pole. We did complete the training last year in our Catholic school. The classroom teachers, however, did not want to take on the task. They had done it before and found it awkward and uncomfortable and not appropriate. A volunteer who had worked as a guidance counselor for many years in the public schools was thankfully willing to do the presentations for the older grades. The physical education teacher presented to the younger children. The religious education teachers were even more reluctant. Talking to children about sex is always difficult. Talking to children about sexual abuse is even worse. As a parent, I have talked to my children about their private parts since they were toddlers, and taught them that no one, except a doctor, is allowed to touch them. As Child Advocate, I did what I could to make sure that the program was taught at an age-appropriate level. Several parents, however, came to me with concerns when they heard of the presentations that were to be given. Some pulled their children from the classes, which is their right. The Church has emphasized that parents have the primary responsibility for educatng their children in sexual matters. In 1995, The Pontifical Council for the Family wrote “ ... the educational service of parents must aim firmly at a training in the area of sex which is truly and fully personal: for sexuality is an enrichment of the whole person - body, emotions and soul - and it manifests its inmost meaning in leading the person to the gift of self in love. Sex education, which is a basic right and duty of parents, must always be carried out under their attentive guidance, whether at home or in educational centres chosen and controlled by them.”
While it may be acceptable at the 5th grade level and up to have frank discussions about sexual abuse, discussing abuse such as incest with young children is a thorny topic. Many parents want to be the ones to educate their children on these matters when they feel it is appropriate, not when the school or Church says that it is. There is also the very real issue that parents who are abusing their children may be among those who choose to have their children not attend these sessions. Lastly, there is the question of whether it should be the child's responsibilty to protect him or herself from abuse. While a child should always be taught to say “No” to any behavior that he finds inappropriate and to tell a trusted adult when something is going on that shouldn't be, the final responsibility for preventing child abue should reside with the adults who care for them. Perhaps more energy could be put into educating adults and helping to prevent child abuse from that angle.
So, then, how do we respect the role of society (the government) and the Church in protecting children while at the same time respecting the rights of parents to be the ones to raise and educate their children? Do we punish all and sacrifice the innocence of our children because of the sins of some? There are far more good parents than bad, but child abuse is a reality for far too many children. Obviously, this is not acceptable and things need to be done to stamp out child abuse in our society. Honestly, I don't have the answer of how to fix this problem, but I do feel that the conversation about how we, as a Church, continue to tackle the problem needs to be ongoing. We may be moving in the right direction, but there is still much work to be done.
Society as a whole obviously has a responsibility to protect the most vulnerable among us. Children should never be mistreated. Many parents, for a variety of reasons, have difficulty providing their children with a nurturing environment. Social service agencies can certainly help protect children and help to educate children when parents aren't up for the task. The Church can help as well.
In the wake of the sexual abuse crisis in the Church, the Bishops put forth the 2002 Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People. The Bishops wanted to make sure that abuse was never tolerated again in the Church. To achieve this end, certain norms were set in place. Every employee and volunteer who works with children in Churches, Catholic Schools, or Catholic sponsored activities must have a background check. They also must receive training on how to recognize and report child abuse. In addition, children in Catholic Schools and Religious Education programs are to be taught what constitutes abuse and what to do about it when it happens to them. According to the 2007 nationwide audit, nearly 94% of Dioceses are in compliance with these requirements.
For a little over a year, I have been the Child Advocate for my parish. This means that I am responsible for making sure every employee and volunteer completes their background check and watches a video on recognizing child abuse. I am also responsible for making sure that the education programs take place in the school and religious education program. Most of the adults who need to complete the background checks and watch the video are understanding. They know the reality of the world we live in and the reasons why we need to be as sure as we can that the people who work with our children are not predators. The process itself serves as a deterrent to anyone who might have plans to do harm to our children. The video is very informative and explains exactly what abuse is, and is not, how to recognize it, and how to report it.
The education programs, however, are not met with the same enthusiasm or tolerance. In general, no one wants to touch them with a ten-foot pole. We did complete the training last year in our Catholic school. The classroom teachers, however, did not want to take on the task. They had done it before and found it awkward and uncomfortable and not appropriate. A volunteer who had worked as a guidance counselor for many years in the public schools was thankfully willing to do the presentations for the older grades. The physical education teacher presented to the younger children. The religious education teachers were even more reluctant. Talking to children about sex is always difficult. Talking to children about sexual abuse is even worse. As a parent, I have talked to my children about their private parts since they were toddlers, and taught them that no one, except a doctor, is allowed to touch them. As Child Advocate, I did what I could to make sure that the program was taught at an age-appropriate level. Several parents, however, came to me with concerns when they heard of the presentations that were to be given. Some pulled their children from the classes, which is their right. The Church has emphasized that parents have the primary responsibility for educatng their children in sexual matters. In 1995, The Pontifical Council for the Family wrote “ ... the educational service of parents must aim firmly at a training in the area of sex which is truly and fully personal: for sexuality is an enrichment of the whole person - body, emotions and soul - and it manifests its inmost meaning in leading the person to the gift of self in love. Sex education, which is a basic right and duty of parents, must always be carried out under their attentive guidance, whether at home or in educational centres chosen and controlled by them.”
While it may be acceptable at the 5th grade level and up to have frank discussions about sexual abuse, discussing abuse such as incest with young children is a thorny topic. Many parents want to be the ones to educate their children on these matters when they feel it is appropriate, not when the school or Church says that it is. There is also the very real issue that parents who are abusing their children may be among those who choose to have their children not attend these sessions. Lastly, there is the question of whether it should be the child's responsibilty to protect him or herself from abuse. While a child should always be taught to say “No” to any behavior that he finds inappropriate and to tell a trusted adult when something is going on that shouldn't be, the final responsibility for preventing child abue should reside with the adults who care for them. Perhaps more energy could be put into educating adults and helping to prevent child abuse from that angle.
So, then, how do we respect the role of society (the government) and the Church in protecting children while at the same time respecting the rights of parents to be the ones to raise and educate their children? Do we punish all and sacrifice the innocence of our children because of the sins of some? There are far more good parents than bad, but child abuse is a reality for far too many children. Obviously, this is not acceptable and things need to be done to stamp out child abuse in our society. Honestly, I don't have the answer of how to fix this problem, but I do feel that the conversation about how we, as a Church, continue to tackle the problem needs to be ongoing. We may be moving in the right direction, but there is still much work to be done.
There are angels everywhere
I don't know the author of this piece, but it is quite a story. It was forwarded to me by my friend Marcia:
I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket.
Their father was gone.
The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two.
Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared.
Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds.
He did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries.
Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either.
If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it.
I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress, loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job.
The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town.
No luck.
The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince who ever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job.
Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop.
It was called the Big Wheel.
An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids.
She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning.
She paid 65 cents an hour, and I could start that night.
I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people.
I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep.
This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal.
That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers, we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel.
When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money -- fully half of what I averaged every night.
As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage.
The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.
One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires!
There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires.
Had angels taken up residence in Indiana ? I wondered.
I made a deal with the local service station.
In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office.
I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires.
I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough.
Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids .
I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning.
Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair.
On Christmas Eve, the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel. There were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe.
A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine.
The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up.
When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning, to my amazement, my old battered Chevy was filled full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes.
I quickly opened the driver's side door, crawled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat.
Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box.
Inside was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10!
I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans.
Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes. There was candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items.
And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll.
As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude.
And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning.
Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop....
THE POWER OF PRAYER. I believe that God only gives three answers to prayer:
1. 'Yes!'
2. 'Not yet.'
3. 'I have something better in mind..'
I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket.
Their father was gone.
The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two.
Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared.
Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds.
He did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries.
Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either.
If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it.
I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress, loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job.
The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town.
No luck.
The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince who ever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job.
Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop.
It was called the Big Wheel.
An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids.
She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning.
She paid 65 cents an hour, and I could start that night.
I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people.
I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep.
This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal.
That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers, we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel.
When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money -- fully half of what I averaged every night.
As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage.
The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.
One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires!
There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires.
Had angels taken up residence in Indiana ? I wondered.
I made a deal with the local service station.
In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office.
I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires.
I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough.
Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids .
I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning.
Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair.
On Christmas Eve, the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel. There were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe.
A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine.
The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up.
When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning, to my amazement, my old battered Chevy was filled full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes.
I quickly opened the driver's side door, crawled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat.
Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box.
Inside was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10!
I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans.
Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes. There was candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items.
And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll.
As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude.
And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning.
Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop....
THE POWER OF PRAYER. I believe that God only gives three answers to prayer:
1. 'Yes!'
2. 'Not yet.'
3. 'I have something better in mind..'
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
The Little Rose That Could
I live at the end of a little dead-end street with only a few houses. For the past few years, the house at the other end of the street has...
-
Everyday Wisdom (Spiritual Refreshment for Women) by Joan C. Webb Barbour Publishing, 2010 "Everyday Wisdom" is one of those delig... -
These are excerpts from some of St. Gianna's writings: "Prayer is the search for God who is in heaven and everywhere, since He i... -
If you’ve read books by Matthew Kelly before, you know that they are often upbeat and encourage you to become “the best version of yours...
