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“All the pie-in-the-sky political talk seems to limit what the faithful do in their own town.  The faithful post their token Facebook messages, they stick their candidate’s signs in their front yard and may even work with their party’s local chapter, but they’re so idealistically minded that they’re no local good.  Where are the faithful when someone next door goes hungry?  I’ll tell you where: they’re so busy siting on their easy chair watching CNN, MSN or FOX that they haven’t even noticed the poverty on their own street.”

* * * * *

“So as I ride Vulcan over the branches I cannot see, as I plunge him in third gear right into a tree stump and see him begin again, as I look out of my land cut fresh and new, I remember my grandfather, a man who cannot even remember this dream he is helping make happen.”

* * * * *

“Did you catch that?”

We asked over 3000 doctors to review 5-hr energy and what they said is amazing. Over 73% who reviewed 5-hr energy said they would recommend a low-calorie energy supplement to their healthy patients who use energy supplements.

“Here’s how I see that survey result coming about:”

* * * * *

“What I don’t love, however, is when folks start speaking for God. When we move from “I believe” or “my faith teaches” or even “the Bible says” to the more broad “God says,” we begin speaking not only for God (which I always find a little bit dicey), but for others who may share our title, but who do not share our beliefs. Not to mention what it says to those who practice a completely different faith or who are without faith.”

* * * * *

“My connection to the house is clear—it’s the house my first husband and I bought when we moved to this town 11 years ago—but the life we lived there feels disjointed and confused. For years after our divorce and the selling of the house, I avoided looking at it, not sure what I would feel. I think I was just as afraid of feeling nothing as I was of feeling pain.”

* * * * *

“My Facebook page is not a democracy.  It does not need to be fair and balanced.  Some people in my feed might post things that you wouldn’t like.  But they’re not offensive to me.”

* * * * *

“Twenty-one years ago, I packed up all my earthly possessions, which consisted of a fairly meager little pile. A sparse assortment of clothes, a few dress pants, jeans, a few dress shirts, and a couple of suits. And a couple of boxes holding a decent collection of books. And many boxes of odds and ends, the dust of living. More than enough to fill a car. And I loaded all my stuff into my ugly tan-gold T Bird. I felt it in my head and heart, the loss of leaving the familiar. But I had accomplished all I could here. It was time to leave the land that had been my home for the past three years. Daviess.”

* * * * *

“You know things are going to change you, but you don’t know how much, or to what length. You don’t know, for instance, while you watch planes crash into familiar buildings, that in ten years two of your baby brothers will be soldiers and men, stationed in countries torn by war. You don’t know that in ten years every day you will pray for peace, mostly because peace means that they will come home in one piece.”

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What’s caught your attention on the internet recently?

 

In an unexpected move earlier today, the two main political parties in the United States changed their mascots.

The Republicans have dropped the elephant and replaced it with their new symbol of power and prestige: a whale.

“Our first choice has always been the elephant,” one high ranking Republican commented on condition of anonymity. “But that’s because we thought it was the biggest mammal in the world. This year someone mentioned that it wasn’t – apparently it’s the Blue Whale. We want that. We want to be the biggest. We want to be the animal that inhales all the tiny little organisms in the ocean.”

The Democrats, meanwhile, haven’t strayed too far from tradition – they’ve transitioned from a donkey to an ass.

“This allows us to reuse all of our current marketing materials,” one spokesperson said. “Which really speaks to our core principles of not spending money on frivolous things, as well as saving the environment – one piece of paper at a time.”

The main criticism of the new Republican mascot is that it so closely resembles Twitter’s “Fail Whale,” including the small red birds lifting it out of the water. When asked about the resemblance, one Republican spokesperson denied any “Twittersperation.”

“The eight small red birds represent the eight swing states that will carry us to victory in this election: Nevada, Colorado, Ohio, Iowa, Wisconsin, New Hampshire, Virginia, and Florida. We especially believe that the change in mascot will endear our party to the coastal swing states – after all, they understand the importance of blubber.”

The Democrats also hope the change will translate to votes on election day.

“We understand that some folks will see this as no change at all, but that’s simply not the case,” claimed a Democratic janitor. “A donkey is a domesticated animal – an ass is wild and unpredictable. This change in mascot is representative of the kind of government we will be running during the next election cycle.”

Twitter has been approached about the similarity between the new Republican mascot and their “Fail Whale.”

Their Tweeted response was, We do not comment on pending litigation #mascotfail.

Imagine this.

There’s a relay race. Runners try to pass a baton from one to another. The goal? Cross the finish line. But this isn’t a normal baton – on it are words like “justice” and “poverty alleviation” and “equality.” The race is a long one.

Imagine this.

Some of the runners stand on the sideline. Instead of running the race, they stand there cheering for the runner who will run the final leg of the race – even though that runner hasn’t even received the baton yet. Then those runners on the sideline – who should be contributing to the race – start screaming at each other about who should run that final leg. The baton falters and is dropped, yet those idle runners continue to argue.

It’s kind of ridiculous.

* * * * *

Politicians play an important role in our society. They stand at the finish line and wait for the baton. Most of the race is run at a relational level, bringing change and justice and giving a voice to the oppressed. The race is run by individuals who work hard.

The race was the Underground Railroad.

The race was the Montgomery Bus Boycott.

The race was the Freedom or Death speech.

These people run the race. They do the work. They change people’s hearts. Then they arrive at the finish line, where politicians take the baton and ratify the laws and sign the amendments and walk across the finish line.

Do not let the current power-grabbing in our country disillusion you to this fact. When you elect a politician, when you select a party, you are choosing the person best equipped to walk that cause over the finish line – you are rarely choosing the person who will run the race. This is a representative government – politicians who bring about change not asked for by the majority do not get reelected, thus powerful and radical change is not one of their well-worn paths.

I am not saying that politics is meaningless. I’m saying that if you want change, run the race. I’m not saying you should lose all concern with those who will run the baton over the finish line. I’m saying don’t let that be your only concern.

I’m looking at you, Christians who are acting like one political party is going to bring the kingdom of the heavens to earth.

Run the race.

* * * * *

Is my metaphor totally screwy? Do you have a better one to offer?

* * * * *

This post is part of the Faith and Politics Synchroblog over at Andi Cumbo’s place. To see the other participants, click HERE.

In recent months I find myself vacillating between extreme thankfulness towards God and bitter pissed-off-edness at him. There are days, such as during the time when I had no income for the last few months, when we received two checks, out of the blue, for a total of $1500. Speechless. Then there are days when it feels like we will never return to a more normal life, when I have to put another bill on the credit card, when it feels like we will live in a basement forever. Speechless.

I feel like I’m constantly struggling to find that middle ground, that place where gratefulness can exist alongside my questions or doubts.

* * * * *

As I mentioned earlier in the summer, one of our children has struggled mightily with anxiety since we returned from our cross-country trip. If we informed him of an upcoming event that he would need to attend alone, he would fret and worry about it for weeks. I’d find him reclined quietly on the sofa, eyes staring off into the distance, and I’d know that worry was devouring his peace.

So we stopped telling him about things coming down the road. We started communicating with him on a need-to-know basis only. A few months ago we signed him up for a science class at a local museum, but when we saw that just the thought of it was filling him with anxiety, we stopped talking about it. We stopped warning him that it was coming. We simply waited until yesterday, and fifteen minutes before we left I told him to get ready.

He still wasn’t happy about it, but it eliminated weeks of worrying. I’m sure the day will come when his anxiety lessens, but in the mean time, we’ll continue walking him through life and telling him about these things when he needs to know about them.

* * * * *

Then I thought about God. I thought about how often I beg him for information on where he’s leading me. I thought about how this interminable period of waiting is driving me nuts. I thought about how I want to know the wonderful plans he has for me – I want to know them now!

But he doesn’t allow me to draw him into that kind of a dialogue, because he knows that if I knew the future I would simply stress about it. So he walks alongside me, and he nudges me here, and he whispers to me there.

And I find out about my life on a need-to-know basis.

* * * * *

Similar posts include:
On Receiving Unexpected Checks in the Mail and My Lack of Trust in God
Leaving, Wondering if I’ve Been Forgotten, and Clinging to Promises

Only Flight of the Conchords would use hilarious interviews with children to write a song, the aim of which is to raise money for sick children.

“Why did you drink a container of bubble mixture?” he asks the little girl.

“Because I wanted to turn into a bubble,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone.

(Thanks to Tyler Stanton for pointing out this video in his Weekly Six.)

Today’s guest post is brought to you by Ashley Glick, one of the bravest people I know. Four years ago, after learning she was pregnant, she made the difficult decision to find adoptive parents for her child. Amber and Nate would fill this role for her, adopting her son B. Today she writes about the struggle to find a way to celebrate Mother’s Day in their open adoption.

Mother’s Day is a weird one in the adoption world. Like so many adoption topics, there is a fine line between black and white, scary and comfortable, giving and taking. It has taken Amber and I four years worth of balancing on the line for us to land in our own, unique spot. We have both reached a place in our hearts that is very matter of fact.

Amber is B’s Mom. I am B’s Birthmom. Even though each title holds a different meaning, the word “Mom” is still there. So of course, on Mother’s Day we celebrate the differences in the titles we hold in his little world. The list of similarities and differences is endless, but the most important is our unconditional love for B. He is the center.

I have come this far to understand that my own selfish desires have to take the back seat for my sanity, for Amber’s sanity, and most importantly for B’s stability. I prayed often that I would be able to fully hand over my Motherly instincts. This is so important to me, all I want is for B to grow up in a world full of love, functioning relationships, and a sturdy structure of support. I expected the hardships, anger, and frustration. But I wasn’t expecting Amber. Our talk on Mother’s Day melted my heart. For her to tell me that I am very much included in this holiday with her was beyond my wildest dreams.

I was fully prepared to watch from the sidelines and cheer her on with this special holiday. By sliding over and making room for me she gave back a small sliver of my heart that I handed over four years ago. Her greatest dreams and desires in life are to be a mother. I know how much she treasures her role. For her to honor me is redeeming, sacrificial, and shows her love for B. What else do you need in a mother?

Looking back on my fears and anxiety about Mother’s Day I have to laugh a little. It’s such a relief to not dread this holiday, but to celebrate it and be celebrated. I was determined to make Amber feel 100% B’s Mom which meant Mother’s Day would have to be all about her. Of course this left me devastated, but I wanted her to feel secure in her role. This past Mother’s Day we loved each other not only for who we are in B’s life, but for who we are in each other’s lives. God has sneaky ways of redeeming the fears and hurt that we lay at his feet.

As weird as it sounds Amber is a close friend, a mentor, and my son’s mom. When you can find a balance, establish roles, and ignore your selfish desires things start to fall in place. You can put aside the blurry line and actually get to know and love the person on the other side.

Don’t be fooled. We don’t always skip off into the sunset holding hands and gazing into each others’ eyes. But we are learning together. We always make these choices with B in the center. So it’s a breath of fresh air when something is established and we can focus on each other for once. Her Mother’s Day gift of honoring me cements the fact that she is selfless, loving, and perfect for B.

Please come back next week to hear Amber’s story. If you’d like to submit a post telling the story of a poignant moment that occurred during adoption or foster care, please email your 500-word submission to shawnsmucker@yahoo.com. Thanks!

Prior adoption and foster care posts include:

The Problem With Permanent Marker – A Foster Care Story With Jeffrey Lane
Fear and an Open Adoption – Adoption Stories With Rebecca Wenrich
I Saw Our New Son and the Voice Said, “Run Away” – Adoption Stories With Kim Van Brunt
Checking ‘Yes’ to Everything: Adoption Stories With Sonya Judkins
Because Someone Has To: Adoption Stories With Shar Halvorsen
Momma For a Moment: A Foster Care Story, With Tamara Out Loud