God forgive me, I think I've become one of THOSE people

I go to church. Lutheran, in case you're interested. I believe in God and Jesus and salvation and all that other stuff. I feel pretty strongly about it all, but I know other people don't. And normally, that's okay with me. Even if I don't agree with someone else's beliefs or opinions, well, it's just not my place to judge or tell them they are wrong.

However.

In the last two days, a couple things have struck me, and I have been surprised at how strong my reaction has been. First, was this quote in my daily quote calendar (I love quotes):

"Can't nothin' make your life work if you ain't the architect." --Terry McMillan

My immediate thought when I read that quote: Bullshit. I had to take a second to figure out why I reacted that way. Then I realized - it's because I don't think I'm the architect of my own life, nor should I try to be. I have always believed in "meant to be" things. After all, I met my husband because God sent a flood. Seriously. I'm not saying I don't have any choice or responsibility for my life, but I really believe that there is a Greater Plan, and that all of the circumstances, obstacles, and choices I am presented with are leading me along that path.

I feel strongly. But I very rarely talk about this, even with my "church friends." I have read articles about attempts to remove God from congressional proceedings and bills, and of course I know about the church-state battle. I have opinions about those things, too, and sometimes my husband and I discuss them. And I shake my head sometimes and wonder what this world is coming to and how/why people have come to the conclusions they have. But I think what I read earlier might have officially sent me over the edge. Radio Disney is now objecting to including the words "chosen by God." In a movie about

The Ten Commandments

For those of you who are not familiar, those are the ten big rules given to Moses. By GOD. Basically, God is one of the main characters of the story. But Radio Disney doesn't think He should be part of the commercials they air. Seriously.

I'm officially angry. Outraged, even, at the stupidity of this. How far do we really need to go to avoid offending someone? Does it honestly offend someone who does not believe in my God to even hear His name? And if that's the case, does anyone really not see that there might be bigger problem there? And by the way, why is it okay to offend ME by neutralizing my God in order to avoid offending someone else? How does that make sense?

I want to share my anger with everyone. I would love to send it to some women bloggers who are way more popular than me, maybe someone who writes about political issues, current events, etc. to spread the word even more. The only problem with that is that most of the ones I've found are overwhelmingly liberal/Democrat-leaning/anti-Bush. And somehow, I'm not sure that they will share in my outrage. I may have to start my own. I could call it A Liberal Republican Christian Mommy Speaks Out. Watch out, next I'm getting one of those fish emblems and am going to put a bumper sticker on my van that says "I'm Christian. And I VOTE!"

Like dropping acid, but without the fun

So for the last two days, I've been having flashbacks. Flash-way-backs to eight years ago when I was home with my newborn baby - my first baby. I was exhausted, hopped up on haywire hormones, having trouble breastfeeding, alone; and then it got worse. In Colorado, two teenagers walked into their high school in Columbine, and started shooting their classmates.

The news coverage went on and on. It was on every channel, all day long. I tried to turn it off, but I was drawn to it. I was horrified and mesmerized. I cried. I sobbed. I wondered what kind of a world I had brought my new son into. I held him close to me and we cried together. His crying was more related to wet diapers and hungry tummies, and mine was overwhelming grief. I grieved for those kids, but even more, I grieved for our world and what it had come to.

And now here we are. Eight years later, I have an eight year old boy and a three year old girl. And a student walked into his classrooms at Virginia Tech yesterday and started shooting his classmates. It is deja vu, an acid flashback, a recurring nightmare. Luckily, work kept me from watching the coverage all day yesterday, but the news feeds kept me well-informed. I have no more tears. I am astounded at the capacity for evil in this world. I just. don't. understand. Why? God, why? It is heart-wrenching to watch the students and families. I want to hug them and cry with them and somehow tell them it will be okay. But it's not. It's not okay that this young man had no other way to show his frustration, distaste, anger, whatever except by shooting people. And himself.

Events like this remind me of the dangers in this world. Dangers which I am normally able to pretend to ignore. If I couldn't, I'm not sure I would have the courage to live my life, or the strength to allow my children to leave the house. I hate that my children will never be safe anywhere they go. I hate that the world has become a place in which this kind of horror exists. We live in a nice neighborhood in a nice, normal, small Mid-Western town. But it's not enough. Something could happen. And it doesn't have to be at the hands of terrorists who fly planes into buildings. Or even at the hands of a troubled young loner at a college campus.

When I was in high school, my younger brothers played with the boys who lived across the street. We also lived in a nice small Mid-Western town. One summer day, while I was their babysitter, they planned to go over and play video games with Kenny and Jonathan. But our uncle surprised us and stopped by to take us for ice cream instead. When we got home, police sirens and fire trucks followed us. We had just pulled into the driveway when they pulled up across the street at Kenny and Jonathan's house. Other boys had been over playing video games and apparently there had been an argument. Kenny had gone to get his dad's shotgun to scare one of the boys, not knowing it was loaded. He accidentally shot the boy in the face. He died. He was sitting in an easy chair when it happened and the family put the chair out for the trash the next day. It sat there for two days until the trash picked it up. I looked at that blood-stained chair and cried. It could have been one of my brothers.

Something could happen to my kids. Anywhere. I live in terror that something awful will happen to them and I will not be able to save them or go on without them. I want to go back to pretending it will be okay. But I don't think I'll be able to for a while. There are new images burned into my memory. They sit along side others: what happened across the street in 1988, Jonesboro, Columbine, Oklahoma City, 9/11; and countless others, images gathered from stories about horrific crimes committed against children.

My flashbacks go on. Eventually, they will ease. Until then, I pretend I'm not afraid every time my children leave my sight. I pretend. And I lie. I do have more tears.

In honor of Easter last Sunday, a bunny story

I know I shouldn't, but this story made me laugh.

What? You mean rabbits get EATEN in the wild? By coyotes and hawks and owls? Especially these cute little bite-sized ones? NO! Gosh, I wonder why they are ENDANGERED??? And I love the end where the state pygmy rabbit coordinator (that's a great job title, btw) basically said they are going to keep putting more owl food out there because, you know, it's "valuable learning."

Can you imagine what the little bunnies are thinking?

Oh, thank you, large human people, for rescuing us from the wild where we have no hope of survival.

Wait. What? You mean you're putting us back? What, we aren't cute enough? No! We'll be good little bunnies, we promise!

Poor little bunnies. They can come live in my neighborhood. Based on how many bunnies we see in our backyard, it's a bunny safe haven around here! Maybe I'd better give that pygmy rabbit coordinator a call...for the bunnies' sake!

Updated to add:

And in other news...T. Rex: tastes like chicken!

What's a twelve-letter word for disruptive?*

So the big news in parent guilt - THIS week - is the new study that says kids who spend more than two years in day care are more disruptive in school through the sixth grade. Great. Because I wasn't quite feeling like a bad enough mother yet. So it's good, really, that we just took care of that last bit of parental self-worth.

At least it's not all bad. The study also found higher vocabulary scores in kids who receive high quality care when they were young - even if it was outside day care. So, all I have to do is find a "high quality" day care. Then at least my kids will be able to use really big words when they disrupt the class.



*obstreperous - my kids will totally know what this word means!