To the Christian Voter

A few days ago I was eviscerated by an individual whom I once held in high regard. 

Backstory:  My spouse has a very strong sense of moral justice.  He’s someone who believes one should simply do the right thing because it is the right thing to do.  Sometimes, I get tired of being his sound board and thus suggested he go write a blog.  He’s very active in social media and a question I posed to him in private soon found its way to social media.  That’s not the important part, just the back story.

It was a question about POTUS and why he seems to generate unrelenting hatred in many.  I quite admire him as a speaker and I believe he’s a man who (despite all the oppositions and mistakes) did the best job he could.  He’s not perfect.  No one is.  As my seven year informed me only God never makes mistakes.

This simple query of mine generated an unnecessary flurry filled with fire and brimstone where POTUS was attacked for his “blatant disregard for God’s law.”  That is not what I asked of my spouse and that is certainly not the conversation he had intended to start. 

Recently there has been a lot of horrific events that have been reported by the media.  There have been presidential candidates in the midst of this hailstorm of hatred who have done very little to help this situation.  There is a divide in this nation that is supposed to be indivisible.  The last time we were divided it ended in a lot of bloodshed but maybe that’s an over simplification of a momentous point in this country’s history. 

Needless to say, I am concerned because this is my home.  I am concerned because human lives are at stake.  I have heard from supporters and haters of both party and those who refuse to stop feeling the Bern.  Throw into this mixture the conservative Christians and whoever else that wants to join the fray. 

Disclaimer:  This is not a political or religious rhetoric.  I’m not offering you my faith for justification because I only need Christ’s justification. 

I take my right to vote seriously.  I exercise it to the best of my understanding because as a citizen of this nation I have a responsibility to cast my vote for the individual who will best serve the public.  I am not a registered voter for a specific party because I don’t wish to find myself where many Republicans are, standing behind a candidate that is far removed from the Republican agenda. 

The Democratic candidate’s stands on many things are vastly different from mine.  I am pro-life but I will not condemn someone who is pro-choice.  LGBT issue is a can of worm I do not wish to open but as a lifestyle it is not one I choose for religious reasons.  Yet, who am I to stand in the way of an LGBT couple or family from having the same quality of life as their heterosexual counterparts?

The politicians are not here to serve the Christian agenda.  They have a simple job, to serve the republic, the citizens of their country from all walks of life.  It is the churches job to spread the message of the gospel of Christ, to feed the hungry, and love all who require it.  That was what Christ commanded us, to love God and then love our neighbors as we love ourselves.  We want the best for ourselves so why can’t we want the same for our neighbors across this great nation of ours?

As a Christian, we need to humble ourselves and cry out before God to heal this nation and then do our part to select leaders in public office who can best fulfill their civic duty.  The job any public servant is to ensure that the life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness is equally preserved for all humankind irrespective of the color, race, gender, faith, or nationality.  I am a public servant.  I fully believe this creed.

We need to stop being prideful and be the salt that God has called us to be and flavor the lives that we encounter.  Martin Luther King Jr. was a man of God.  That is the kind of example we should be following if we want to really change this world and make it a better place for our children.

It is time to humbly and prayerfully cast your vote for the person who will do their best to fulfill the obligations of the highest office in the land and serve the nation instead of their self-interest.  You don't need to agree with them, you just need to care about your country and the people who are your neighbors.  Your vote counts.

Loneliness

I did not want this to be about my mother.  That's why I wrote The Journey Home; I was trying to get some perspective as my mother lay dying.  I'm a writer.  It's how I think, with words that come out of my finger tips.  I did not want this to be about motherhood either.  That's why I wrote Motherhood....My Way; I was trying to understand how to be a working mom.  My first blog, Baby oh Baby! was about the most amazing journey of my life, the beginning of motherhood.  Now, writing this blog, trying to understand myself as the writer I want to be, I'm back where I started, thinking of my mother.

This summer has been difficult.  I keep reliving 2014.  It occurred to me that making new memories just might make things better.  We went peach picking at Demarest Farms in Hillsdale New Jersey.  It was a lovely day, spent with my family.  My favorite part was picking a ripe peach off the tree and eating it right there in the orchard.

There's a story in Luke 10:38 about Martha and her sister Mary.  They are hosting Jesus and Martha, getting stressed, asks Jesus to tell her sister to help her.  Instead, Jesus tells Martha that she's worried about a lot of things.  He goes on to tell her that Mary has chosen the right thing and it will not be denied her.

I choose to spend 2014 at my dying mother's bedside.  It is an experience I will never forget, one I can never escape.  I choose my mother over my children.  Does that make me a bad mother?  I'm not sure if it actually made me good daughter.

But I do know this, since she's been gone, I have been walking around with half a heart.  My sons look at me with such adoration and they shower me with so much unconditional love that my broken half heart is slowly healing.  I find myself applying the balm of their love to my aching heart often and often these days.  I am healing but I think I will always be alone.

A Change of Plans

There are some days when you wish you never got out of bed.  Everything that can go wrong, does.  That was today but this isn't about that.

I had plans.  I changed them twice.  Originally I had planned to take my boys to the Victoria Gardens at Wollman Rink in Central Park.  Then I decided to go see Tarzan with my friend because I had been craving Haitian food.  Let's just say I was really looking forward to seeing Tarzan; only all my plans went to hell in a hand basket.  After a week of bad sleeping pattern my insomnia struck with a vengeance at the stroke of midnight.  Being turned into a pumpkin would have been a blessing in comparison.

After a futile hour of tossing and turning I turned to drugs.

I know, Staten Island, drug problems, you think this is getting interesting.  Not that kind of drugs.  They were over the counter kind that can be found in most drug stores although in some neighborhoods you'd need a manager's key to access them.  It eventually knocked me out; I overslept and ended up being late for work.

I could go on in tedious details about all the things that went wrong with my day.  But that is not what this is about.  It's about plans and how plans can change on a whim.

Needlessly to say, I was fed up with the day.  I left work early, hopped on a bus, slept in traffic for an hour before finally going home.  Grilling in this heat seemed like a good idea.  Only that didn't work out as we had a gas scare.  Not wanting to blow up the house and everyone in it, we decided to head to the diner for dinner.

I was supposed to be in Brooklyn tonight.  But instead I ended up at a diner being waited on by a very tired looking single mom.  My circumstances had caused me to abandon my original plans.

The mundane details doesn't matter.  Neither does the circumstances.  I didn't plan on being where I ended up.  But God had plans that required me to be exactly where I ended up.  My husband makes our oldest repeat the following every morning.  "I am a leader, I am blessed.  I'll be a blessing.  I'll be my best."

Today I got to be in the right place, at the right time, to witness something extraordinary.  I don't know what God's plan is for that single mother.  I only know that I played a small part in a much bigger plan.  The plan wasn't for me but I got to play a part in the fulfillment of God's plan for someone else.

As Christians it is important to remember that we were called to be salt of the earth, a light in the darkness.  We were commanded by Christ himself to show our love for Him by feeding his sheep.  It's more than just attending church service, or church programs.  We need to see the minuteness of us and the grandness of Him.  It is His plan and we should be so blessed as to get a small walk-in part.

Shades of Brown and Blue

ME

Does my dad seem sad to you?

HIM

(slight pause before a thoughtful)

Maybe.

Fast forward time through bath and bedtime.  Clean children, dressed in pajamas.

ME

(putting our arms together)

Connie Mac, look!

You're brown, like me.

CONNNOR

Mummy, you're right!  I am brown!  I was white.  Now I'm brown.

(holds up three fingers)

There are three people who are brown.

(points to closed bedroom door and holds up four fingers this time)

Dadu's brown.  There are four brown people in this house.

CMC

(calling from his room)

Dadu is dark brown.

CONNOR

(pause as he thinks)

You know who else is brown?  Mama is brown.

Mamima is white, like Daddy.

ME

You're like a chameleon.  You change from white to brown

CMC

(walks out of his room to the landing where three bedroom doors meet.  two are open, one is closed.  he points to each of the three bedrooms)

There used to be six people here.  Two here, two here, and two here.  Now there are five.

(points to the three doors again)

Two here, two here, and one here.

(this time he points to the closed door without looking at it)

There used to be two people here.  Before the caaaancer.

My son's eyes meet mine in shared silence.  We're all just a bunch of chameleons; only we change from brown to blue against our will.