weeklythoughtexchange

This was in an e-mail I received recently:

The world hasn’t just become wicked…it’ s always been wicked. The prize doesn’t always go to the most deserving.

Irena Sendler 

There recently was a death of a 98 year-old lady named Irena. 

During WWII, Irena, got permission to work in the Warsaw ghetto, as a Plumbing/Sewer specialist. 

She had an ‘ulterior motive’. 

She KNEW what the Nazi’s plans were for the Jews (being German). 

Irena smuggled infants out in the bottom of the tool box she carried and she carried in the back of her truck a burlap sack, (for larger kids). 

She also had a dog in the back that she trained to bark when the Nazi soldiers let her in and out of the ghetto. 

The soldiers of course wanted nothing to do with the dog and the barking covered the kids/infants noises. 

During her time of doing this, she managed to smuggle out and save 2500 kids/infants.

She was caught, and the Nazi’s broke both her legs, arms and beat her severely. 

Irena kept a record of the names of all the kids she smuggled out and kept them in a glass jar, buried under a tree in her back yard.

After the war, she tried to locate any parents that may have survived it and reunited the family. 

Most had been gassed. Those kids she helped got placed into foster family homes or adopted. 

Last year Irena was up for the Nobel Peace Prize. 

She was not selected. 
President Obama won one year before becoming President for his work as a community organizer for ACORN
and
Al Gore won also — for a slide show on Global Warming. 

In MEMORIAM – 63 YEARS LATER 

Today is September 11, 2011.  Ten years ago on this very day our country discovered heroism in the hearts of many ordinary citizens who chose to be extraordinary. They were firefighters, police officers, soldiers, priests, pastors, businessmen, moms, dads, siblings, friends, pilots, flight attendants, and many more.  When the terror of evil struck in full force they did not cower in self-preservation; they rose up to defend their neighbor and determined that good would conquer, even if it meant the sacrifice of their own life.

The terrorists’ purpose for 9/11 was to have it be an iconoclasm of all that America stood for – freedom, individualism, capitalism, democracy, Christianity, liberty of spirit.  Instead, on 9/11, we Americans decided that it would be a day of renewal of our foundations and a day of victory for who we are in heart and soul.  Americans across the country and around the world united with their fellow Americans and we rebuilt and strengthened what evil sought to demolish.  Every American who stood firm was a hero that day and the years following.

My question is – does that heroism continue? Ten years later, have we begun to cower in the face of evil? Do we apologize for standing firm in our convictions? Do we shrink from defending our borders and our values? Are we reasoning with our enemies and abandoning our friends?  Is giving up becoming an option?

In memoriam of the fallen, let us resolve that our infrangible nation will remain so because we are united in heroism, not cowardice.

I am lost in my own little world right now. It’s one of those times in life when I feel alone and disconnected from those around me.  Rather than rays of sunshine piercing the clouds of anxiety and despair, the clouds seem to grow darker and heavier each day.  I can’t seem to see the positive right now…only my mistakes and failures.  In times like this the exciting future appears to be anything but that.

What do I do? Where do I go? How do I stop this stream of negative thoughts?  I tell myself over and over again that life is good; challenges make me stronger; I am connected to the people around me, even if I don’t always feel like it.  Yet these mantras of positive speaking do little to pierce the haze of gloom. My spoken thoughts fall on deaf ears only to bounce back at me; people laugh and plan, but I’m not apart of it; daunting exams threaten to prove how little I know; my dreams seem to drift ever farther away and I have begun to expect only the worst to happen.

These days in the valley are not entirely useless. They cause me to reflect on what truly matters to me, where and how I should improve, what I am willing to give up and what I must hold on to.  But I know that I must not stay here.  To do so would define me as a marplot in God’s beautiful story for my life.  In His munificent goodness, Christ reminds me that He has made me for good works; and when those lonely hours march on, He is there to comfort me with His kind words and loving reminders of His presence.

Yes, life is a series of mountains and valleys. While we are often more aware of the evil, the good is just as real.  Focusing on the good does not need to be a luxury, nor does it have to be a symbol of naiveté. Perhaps it is a responsibility, for it means that we are thwarting any attempts to dwell on the negative that would render us useless for God’s glory.   In God’s strength I will choose to take one more step forward, run one minute faster, study with an ounce more of determination, teach with one extra smile, hug my beloved pets one more time each evening, and give each person in my life one more chance…including myself.

If I allow life to become all about me it will become a very small world after all, and then I would really look foolish when I become lost in it.

Pat. Rat. Sat. Cat. Fat. Wait a minute – go back to that c-word…yes, that’s it…C.A.T.  It’s one of the first words we all learned to spell when we were little. It’s a little word that can garner a wide-range of dramatic emotions; few people are indifferent to cats. It seems like you either love them or hate them and for that reason I am writing this post.  For those of you cat-lovers, enjoy! For those of you who hate cats, maybe it will give you a fresh perspective on the feline species.

There has never been a time in my life when I did not have a cat in my family. In fact, when I was just a baby a kitten was orphaned at our house and my family bottlefed him with my mom’s breastmilk! We grew up together and the poor guy had to endure a lot of dollying up when I was old enough to play with babydolls.   When I was about 10, a mama cat brought her newborn babies to our house and I was very involved in their rearing. I especially bonded with one of them, who I named Marble.  I could carry him around the yard and he would wrap his long tail around my back.  I loved that kitty and was heartbroken when he was hit by a car and died.

Two years later, at a middle-school low point in my life, another kitten came on stage. She was so tiny her eyes weren’t even open and I had to bottlefeed her. When her eyes did open they gripped my heart forever. She was the cutest, homeliest kitten I had ever seen and I knew she had to be mine.  This is Dingo.  She has been my constant companion – travelling with me to Africa and back; comforting me when I am sad; snuggling on my shoulder when I am stressed and purring to help me relax; curling up by my side when I am sick; greeting me when I get home, first college, now teaching; meowing if I haven’t taken the time to talk to her because I’ve been too distracted with life. 

Now, at the age of 14, she could easily be mistaken for a stuffed animal since she rarely leaves my bed. She moves from her pillow, to her blanket, to her windowseat vantage point and back again.  Her body is getting the skinny look that comes with age, and she has arthritis. She has her moments of attitude when she smacks me firmly with her paw if I stop petting her. Dingo still manages to keep the younger cats and the dog in line with a simple squint of her eyes. Everyone in the household treats her with the respect she deserves.  I have made it clear that Dingo is going to be the first cat to live forever.

If you talk to most cat-people, they have all had that one cat that was their constant through the tough moments in life. I can think of a few names – Big Foot, Newar, Klinger, Chester, Mac, and many more.  I think these felines, and the ones to come, are little bits of heaven sent down to remind us that God loves us and has not forgotten we need the undying purr of a C.A.T.

My schedule is a regimented one. I rise before dawn to spend time reading my Bible and running with my canine buddy. Then I clean up, grab some breakfast, pack my lunch, and head to work. The day clips by at work since it is divided into 50-minute periods which I have further divided into 5, 10, and 15 minute lesson or activity blocks. Before I know it I’m on my way home. But my day hasn’t ended yet. There’s play and exercise time with my dog again, other animals to feed, and housecleaning to cross off the list. I try to do about an hour of studying for the exam that I’m taking next month, then before I know it the clock reminds me that I need to to get some sleep.

When the weekend rolls around all I want to do is sleep, and yet there are many “extras” that I would like to do – extra reading, extra correspondance, extra time with friends and family, extra errands to run, extra time with my critters…they are wonderful things and I long to do them all, but sometimes my body refuses. 

I am sure we have all reflected on the meaning of life at one time or another, maybe more.  I have come to the conclusion that, while it’s important to live a purposeful life, taking a few moments to break free of the regimented schedule is not a wasteful splurge of time. In fact, studies have shown that relaxation and pausing to smell the roses are stress reducers and can lead to greater productivity when the schedule is resumed.

Last night I spent some time looking at pictures and once again I realized how rapidly time escapes us. I saw how many beloved pets have come and gone from my life; how quickly children grow up; how steadily the aging process sets in; how no matter what you do, you cannot relive beautiful moments, you can only savor them as you live them.

Don’t waste your life doing nothing; accomplish all the good you can while you live every breath that you take.

School’s in.  It’s time to put those brains in gear again, and bid farewell to late nights, sleeping in, and relaxing at the beach on hot summer days. Hopefully we all made some fun vacation memories that will carry us through the rigor of tight schedules and demanding workloads – students and teachers both. 

As a teacher, back to school means going back to the basics with new and former students alike. I usually make some adjustments to the policies that maintain order in my classroom, tweak a few assignments, and polish up my lesson plans to make them more effective and efficient.  But there are many things that I keep the same, such as reviewing the Founding Documents and helping the students discover how these amazing concepts are still relevant today.  This involves being aware of the daily world, national, and state news headlines.

It is refreshing to be in a twenty-first century classroom, listening to sixth, seventh, and eighth graders read, discuss, and present on documents that birthed our nation. Sometimes it jolts me into reality – we can still claim the authority of the ideals inscribed in those documents as citizens of the United States of America. Our country has changed and would hardly be recognized by the authors and signers of old, but the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution have not been altered.

So as we dust off our books, pull out our backpacks, and sharpen our pencils, let’s demand liberty and justice for all and take responsibility for our actions.  Punish the guilty, protect the innocent, lower taxes, shrink government, and welcome common sense back into the classrooms (and airports).   It’s time to get this nation back in order – report cards will be due before we know it.

I rescued a puppy last week. His fate was uncertain and a compelling urge to not sit on the sidelines and let another innocent creature perish swept over me and I uttered the words, “I’ll take him!”   I set myself up when I do that. I am beginning to lose count of all the little creatures I have rescued in my lifetime, and I have wanted to keep every single one of them.  I have decided to quit denying that I’ll want to keep them and that has made me wonder if I should adamantly refuse to rescue anymore…but I have come to the conclusion that that would be selfish.

Perhaps selfishness is one of the greatest inhibitors of  leaving the sidelines in the great game of life, for true kindness requires altruism.  The easiest thing is to pass the baton of sacrifice along with a few dollars and then say we have done our bit and given to charity. But it doesn’t work like that.  Money often only aggravates the situation.  Think about it – many of America’s poor are receiving free handouts every day from the community and the government, while teachers, principals, and other service-oriented professionals are forced to accept pay cuts and rising costs.  To really help someone in need, one must accurately target the need and not merely the symptoms, but that demands time and heart.

My suggestion is that individual citizens would no longer acquiesce to the government’s involvement in all of our moral issues.  The government lacks the heart and kindness to truly make a difference, for all it can do is throw our money at the situation. Only people can help people, for we know what it takes to truly revive a wilting spirit and a dying soul. The products of our own hard working hands are what allow for a satisfied slumber at night, and knowing that the people in your community value you enough to hear your story can provide a soothing balm for a bitter spirit.

A loving family has since adopted Ocean, and though it was not easy to let him go it was a joy to know that I had played a part in the rescue cycle. I did not sit on the sidelines, nor did I indulge my selfishness. Sacrifice is painful, but it’s the good kind of pain that sets a person free to do all the good we were designed to do.

Ocean