Both of my girls have a "song". A song that I have been singing to them from the moment I knew I was pregnant. I have rocked them to sleep singing their song more times than I can count and each time is as special as the first time I sang their song to them after they were born. And each time I sing these songs to them they instantly recognize it and calm themselves no matter the situation. Sometimes, late at night, Piper's song was the only thing that worked to get her back to sleep. Do you have a song like that?
Finley's song:
Wildflowers by Tom Petty
You belong among the wildflowers
You belong in a boat out at sea
Sail away, kill off the hours
You belong somewhere you feel free
Run away, find you a lover
Go away somewhere all bright and new
I have seen no other
Who compares with you
You belong among the wildflowers
You belong in a boat out at sea
You belong with your love on your arm
You belong somewhere you feel free
Run away, go find a lover
Run away, let your heart be your guide
You deserve the deepest of cover
You belong in that home by and by
You belong among the wildflowers
You belong somewhere close to me
Far away from your trouble and worries
You belong somewhere you feel free
You belong somewhere you feel free
Piper's song: - this song was also sung in our wedding by a friend of mine.
The Water Is Wide (Traditional)
The water is wide, I can't cross over, and neither have I wings to fly.
Build me a boat that can carry two and both shall row, my love and I.
There is a ship and she sails the sea. She's loaded deep, as deep can be.
But not so deep as the love I'm in, I know not how I sink or swim.
Oh love is handsome and love is fine, the sweetest flower when first it's new.
But love grows old and waxes cold and fades away like Summer dew.
Build me a boat that can carry two and both shall row, my love and I,
And both shall row, my love and I.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
project(s)
this is a gift for one of Piper's friend's birthday. An art smock made from canvas and cotton pockets (kind of lame fabric, I know...but I wasn't about to cut up my primo stash for this, selfish, i know). In the pockets are some watercolor pencils, oil pastels, paintbrushes, and also some watercolor paper to complete the package. The smock sewed up pretty quick and easy although binding is not my friend.
Piper making her modeling debut...the front
and the back
Also, a monster for Piper's friend Logan, hence the "L" on his tummy. He is flannel with felt and hand embroidered. Accompanying him was the book, Leonardo the Terrible Monster.
And another monster for Piper's friend Caiden. His favorite color is orange so he got a recycled Boppy pillow recovered in orange soft fleecy stuff. His eyes are felt and hand embroidered. He was accompanied by the book, Wiggle.
Too much information about my tatas
Well, it is a little difficult to follow-up that post from Bono but let me say it has got me thinkin...the wheels turning in my brain and I have decided that I must do something.
But for now, let's move on to more, ahem, pressing matters. I went bra shopping yesterday. Yes, I will be referencing the girls so tune out if you will be offended. My poor poor boobies. They have served me well, got me a man (although he really is a butt man), helped me keep that man, gotten me out of a few sticky situations, and nourished two babies. It is the nourishment that really got to them...actually the whole I'm pregnant and for some reason my boobs have to triple in size over night and them triple again and fill up with pounds, yes pounds, of milk and then be sucked dry. They've given up, the white flag of surrender has been waved and they are so depressed that they can only look down towards the ground. They need a savior, an uplifter, a crane if you will to restore them to their previous glory.
And so I enter the world's most over-hyped lingerie store with a cup half-full (haha, pun intended, I crack myself up sometimes) attitude and search for the bra of all bras that will restore my faith in cleavage. Part of my problem is that I don't fill up the entire cup that the measurements say that I am...it always gaps around the top, so the ever so patient sales woman who heard my entire birth story of both my girls and the subsequent tale of breastfeeding and into the benefits of breastfeeding and blah blah blah (I don't get out much without my kids) anyway, where was I? Oh, the sales woman directs me to their new "scientifically engineered" "amazing uplifter" of a bra. She continues to tell me about all of its features walking me through the bra as if it is a car that I am about to test drive and then it is on to the fitting rooms and I am full of hope and anticipation. This bra, this bra could change my life.
Have you ever tried on a water bra? Those are about the funniest things I have ever seen. My mom and I used to go shopping together and when we would try on bras we would practically pee in out pants from the humiliation that ensues from all the different style.
So there I am in the dressing room thinking this could be "the one" and I try it on. And I think...
Well, at least my boob aren't growing out of my chin from being pushed up so high. They are definitely prominent and there is definitely some cleavage going on and I do fill out the whole cup. It's soft enough and tagless which is good, but I dunno...I jut feel blah about it and so I decide to buy it along with another one that is more of an everyday bra whereas this is definitely a date bra, and if you don't know the difference, well then you need to look at yourself in your normal comfy bra that you wear daily and then try on one of those enhancer bras and have the girls at full attention ready to slay any man that comes within eye-poking distance - the date bra.
My tatas are happier today and thankful that I paid some attention to their plight. In the end that's all anyone really wants, right?...to be heard.
But for now, let's move on to more, ahem, pressing matters. I went bra shopping yesterday. Yes, I will be referencing the girls so tune out if you will be offended. My poor poor boobies. They have served me well, got me a man (although he really is a butt man), helped me keep that man, gotten me out of a few sticky situations, and nourished two babies. It is the nourishment that really got to them...actually the whole I'm pregnant and for some reason my boobs have to triple in size over night and them triple again and fill up with pounds, yes pounds, of milk and then be sucked dry. They've given up, the white flag of surrender has been waved and they are so depressed that they can only look down towards the ground. They need a savior, an uplifter, a crane if you will to restore them to their previous glory.
And so I enter the world's most over-hyped lingerie store with a cup half-full (haha, pun intended, I crack myself up sometimes) attitude and search for the bra of all bras that will restore my faith in cleavage. Part of my problem is that I don't fill up the entire cup that the measurements say that I am...it always gaps around the top, so the ever so patient sales woman who heard my entire birth story of both my girls and the subsequent tale of breastfeeding and into the benefits of breastfeeding and blah blah blah (I don't get out much without my kids) anyway, where was I? Oh, the sales woman directs me to their new "scientifically engineered" "amazing uplifter" of a bra. She continues to tell me about all of its features walking me through the bra as if it is a car that I am about to test drive and then it is on to the fitting rooms and I am full of hope and anticipation. This bra, this bra could change my life.
Have you ever tried on a water bra? Those are about the funniest things I have ever seen. My mom and I used to go shopping together and when we would try on bras we would practically pee in out pants from the humiliation that ensues from all the different style.
So there I am in the dressing room thinking this could be "the one" and I try it on. And I think...
Well, at least my boob aren't growing out of my chin from being pushed up so high. They are definitely prominent and there is definitely some cleavage going on and I do fill out the whole cup. It's soft enough and tagless which is good, but I dunno...I jut feel blah about it and so I decide to buy it along with another one that is more of an everyday bra whereas this is definitely a date bra, and if you don't know the difference, well then you need to look at yourself in your normal comfy bra that you wear daily and then try on one of those enhancer bras and have the girls at full attention ready to slay any man that comes within eye-poking distance - the date bra.
My tatas are happier today and thankful that I paid some attention to their plight. In the end that's all anyone really wants, right?...to be heard.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Bono's remarks at the National Prayer Breakfast
Thank you.
Mr. President, First Lady, King Abdullah, Other heads of State, Members of Congress, distinguished guests…
Please join me in praying that I don’t say something we’ll all regret.
That was for the FCC.
If you’re wondering what I’m doing here, at a prayer breakfast, well, so am I. I’m certainly not here as a man of the cloth, unless that cloth is leather. It’s certainly not because I’m a rock star. Which leaves one possible explanation: I’m here because I’ve got a messianic complex.
Yes, it’s true. And for anyone who knows me, it’s hardly a revelation.
Well, I’m the first to admit that there’s something unnatural… something unseemly… about rock stars mounting the pulpit and preaching at presidents, and then disappearing to their villas in the South of France. Talk about a fish out of water. It was weird enough when Jesse Helms showed up at a U2 concert… but this is really weird, isn’t it?
You know, one of the things I love about this country is its separation of church and state. Although I have to say: in inviting me here, both church and state have been separated from something else completely: their mind. .
Mr. President, are you sure about this?
It’s very humbling and I will try to keep my homily brief. But be warned—I’m Irish.
I’d like to talk about the laws of man, here in this city where those laws are written. And I’d like to talk about higher laws. It would be great to assume that the one serves the other; that the laws of man serve these higher laws… but of course, they don’t always. And I presume that, in a sense, is why you’re here.
I presume the reason for this gathering is that all of us here—Muslims, Jews, Christians—all are searching our souls for how to better serve our family, our community, our nation, our God.
I know I am. Searching, I mean. And that, I suppose, is what led me here, too.
Yes, it’s odd, having a rock star here—but maybe it’s odder for me than for you. You see, I avoided religious people most of my life. Maybe it had something to do with having a father who was Protestant and a mother who was Catholic in a country where the line between the two was, quite literally, a battle line. Where the line between church and state was… well, a little blurry, and hard to see.
I remember how my mother would bring us to chapel on Sundays… and my father used to wait outside. One of the things that I picked up from my father and my mother was the sense that religion often gets in the way of God.
For me, at least, it got in the way. Seeing what religious people, in the name of God, did to my native land… and in this country, seeing God’s second-hand car salesmen on the cable TV channels, offering indulgences for cash… in fact, all over the world, seeing the self-righteousness roll down like a mighty stream from certain corners of the religious establishment…
I must confess, I changed the channel. I wanted my MTV.
Even though I was a believer.
Perhaps because I was a believer.
I was cynical… not about God, but about God’s politics. (There you are, Jim.)
Then, in 1997, a couple of eccentric, septuagenarian British Christians went and ruined my shtick—my reproachfulness. They did it by describing the Millennium, the year 2000, as a Jubilee year, as an opportunity to cancel the chronic debts of the world’s poorest people. They had the audacity to renew the Lord’s call—and were joined by Pope John Paul II, who, from an Irish half-Catholic’s point of view, may have had a more direct line to the Almighty.
‘Jubilee’—why ‘Jubilee’?
What was this year of Jubilee, this year of our Lords favor?
I’d always read the Scriptures, even the obscure stuff. There it was in Leviticus (25:35)…
‘If your brother becomes poor,’ the Scriptures say, ‘and cannot maintain himself… you shall maintain him… You shall not lend him your money at interest, not give him your food for profit.’
It is such an important idea, Jubilee, that Jesus begins his ministry with this. Jesus is a young man, he’s met with the rabbis, impressed everyone, people are talking. The elders say, he’s a clever guy, this Jesus, but he hasn’t done much… yet. He hasn’t spoken in public before…
When he does, is first words are from Isaiah: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,’ he says, ‘because He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.’ And Jesus proclaims the year of the Lord’s favour, the year of Jubilee. (Luke 4:18)
What he was really talking about was an era of grace—and we’re still in it.
So fast-forward 2,000 years. That same thought, grace, was made incarnate—in a movement of all kinds of people. It wasn’t a bless-me club… it wasn’t a holy huddle. These religious guys were willing to get out in the streets, get their boots dirty, wave the placards, follow their convictions with actions… making it really hard for people like me to keep their distance. It was amazing. I almost started to like these church people.
But then my cynicism got another helping hand.
It was what Colin Powell, a five-star general, called the greatest W.M.D. of them all: a tiny little virus called A.I.D.S. And the religious community, in large part, missed it. The one’s that didn’t miss it could only see it as divine retribution for bad behaviour. Even on children… Even fastest growing group of HIV infections were married, faithful women.
Aha, there they go again! I thought to myself Judgmentalism is back!
But in truth, I was wrong again. The church was slow but the church got busy on this the leprosy of our age.
Love was on the move.
Mercy was on the move.
God was on the move.
Moving people of all kinds to work with others they had never met, never would have cared to meet… Conservative church groups hanging out with spokesmen for the gay community, all singing off the same hymn sheet on AIDS… Soccer moms and quarterbacks… hip-hop stars and country stars… This is what happens when God gets on the move: crazy stuff happens!
Popes were seen wearing sunglasses!
Jesse Helms was seen with a ghetto blaster!
Crazy stuff. Evidence of the spirit.
It was breathtaking. Literally. It stopped the world in its tracks.
When churches started demonstrating on debt, governments listened—and acted. When churches starting organising, petitioning, and even—that most unholy of acts today, God forbid, lobbying… on AIDS and global health, governments listened—and acted.
I’m here today in all humility to say: you changed minds; you changed policy; you changed the world.
Look, whatever thoughts you have about God, who He is or if He exists, most will agree that if there is a God, He has a special place for the poor. In fact, the poor are where God lives.
Check Judaism. Check Islam. Check pretty much anyone.
I mean, God may well be with us in our mansions on the hill… I hope so. He may well be with us as in all manner of controversial stuff… maybe, maybe not… But the one thing we can all agree, all faiths and ideologies, is that God is with the vulnerable and poor.
God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house… God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives… God is in the cries heard under the rubble of war… God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives, and God is with us if we are with them. “If you remove the yolk from your midst, the pointing of the finger and speaking wickedness, and if you give yourself to the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness and your gloom with become like midday and the Lord will continually guide you and satisfy your desire in scorched places”
It’s not a coincidence that in the Scriptures, poverty is mentioned more than 2,100 times. It’s not an accident. That’s a lot of air time, 2,100 mentions. [You know, the only time Christ is judgmental is on the subject of the poor.] ‘As you have done it unto the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto me.’ (Matthew 25:40). As I say, good news to the poor.
Here’s some good news for the President. After 9-11 we were told America would have no time for the World’s poor. America would be taken up with its own problems of safety. And it’s true these are dangerous times, but America has not drawn the blinds and double-locked the doors.
In fact, you have double aid to Africa. You have tripled funding for global health. Mr. President, your emergency plan for AIDS relief and support for the Global Fund—you and Congress—have put 700,000 people onto life-saving anti-retroviral drugs and provided 8 million bed nets to protect children from malaria.
Outstanding human achievements. Counterintuitive. Historic. Be very, very proud.
But here’s the bad news. From charity to justice, the good news is yet to come. There’s is much more to do. There’s a gigantic chasm between the scale of the emergency and the scale of the response.
And finally, it’s not about charity after all, is it? It’s about justice.
Let me repeat that: It’s not about charity, it’s about justice.
And that’s too bad.
Because you’re good at charity. Americans, like the Irish, are good at it. We like to give, and we give a lot, even those who can’t afford it.
But justice is a higher standard. Africa makes a fool of our idea of justice; it makes a farce of our idea of equality. It mocks our pieties, it doubts our concern, it questions our commitment.
6,500 Africans are still dying every day of a preventable, treatable disease, for lack of drugs we can buy at any drug store. This is not about charity, this is about Justice and Equality.
Because there's no way we can look at what’s happening in Africa and, if we're honest, conclude that deep down, we really accept that Africans are equal to us. Anywhere else in the world, we wouldn’t accept it. Look at what happened in South East Asia with the Tsunami. 150, 000 lives lost to that misnomer of all misnomers, “mother nature”. In Africa, 150,000 lives are lost every month. A tsunami every month. And it’s a completely avoidable catastrophe.
It’s annoying but justice and equality are mates. Aren’t they? Justice always wants to hang out with equality. And equality is a real pain.
You know, think of those Jewish sheep-herders going to meet the Pharaoh, mud on their shoes, and the Pharaoh says, “Equal?” A preposterous idea: rich and poor are equal? And they say, “Yeah, ‘equal,’ that’s what it says here in this book. We’re all made in the image of God.”
And eventually the Pharaoh says, “OK, I can accept that. I can accept the Jews—but not the blacks.”
“Not the women. Not the gays. Not the Irish. No way, man.”
So on we go with our journey of equality.
On we go in the pursuit of justice.
We hear that call in the ONE Campaign, a growing movement of more than two million Americans… left and right together… united in the belief that where you live should no longer determine whether you live.
We hear that call even more powerfully today, as we mourn the loss of Coretta Scott King—mother of a movement for equality, one that changed the world but is only just getting started. These issues are as alive as they ever were; they just change shape and cross the seas.
Preventing the poorest of the poor from selling their products while we sing the virtues of the free market… that’s a justice issue. Holding children to ransom for the debts of their grandparents… That’s a justice issue. Withholding life-saving medicines out of deference to the Office of Patents… that’s a justice issue.
And while the law is what we say it is, God is not silent on the subject.
That’s why I say there’s the law of the land… and then there is a higher standard. There’s the law of the land, and we can hire experts to write them so they benefit us, so the laws say it’s OK to protect our agriculture but it’s not OK for African farmers to do the same, to earn a living?
As the laws of man are written, that’s what they say.
God will not accept that.
Mine won’t, at least. Will yours?
[pause]
I close this morning on … very… thin… ice.
This is a dangerous idea I’ve put on the table: my God vs. your God, their God vs. our God… vs. no God. It is very easy, in these times, to see religion as a force for division rather than unity.
And this is a town—Washington—that knows something of division.
But the reason I am here, and the reason I keep coming back to Washington, is because this is a town that is proving it can come together on behalf of what the Scriptures call the least of these.
This is not a Republican idea. It is not a Democratic idea. It is not even, with all due respect, an American idea. Nor it is unique to any one faith.
Do to others as you would have them do to you.’ (Luke 6:30) Jesus says that.
‘Righteousness is this: that one should… give away wealth out of love for Him to the near of kin and the orphans and the needy and the wayfarer and the beggars and for the emancipation of the captives.’ The Koran says that. (2.177)
Thus sayeth the Lord: ‘Bring the homeless poor into the house, when you see the naked, cover him, then your light will break out like the dawn and your recovery will speedily spring fourth, then your Lord will be your rear guard.’ The jewish scripture says that. Isaiah 58 again.
That is a powerful incentive: ‘The Lord will watch your back.’ Sounds like a good deal to me, right now.
A number of years ago, I met a wise man who changed my life. In countless ways, large and small, I was always seeking the Lord’s blessing. I was saying, you know, I have a new song, look after it… I have a family, please look after them… I have this crazy idea…
And this wise man said: stop.
He said, stop asking God to bless what you’re doing.
Get involved in what God is doing—because it’s already blessed.
Well, God, as I said, is with the poor. That, I believe, is what God is doing.
And that is what He’s calling us to do.
I was amazed when I first got to this country and I learned how much some churchgoers tithe. Up to ten percent of the family budget. Well, how does that compare the federal budget, the budget for the entire American family? How much of that goes to the poorest people in the world? Less than one percent.
Mr. President, Congress, people of faith, people of America:
I want to suggest to you today that you see the flow of effective foreign assistance as tithing…. Which, to be truly meaningful, will mean an additional one percent of the federal budget tithed to the poor.
What is one percent?
One percent is not merely a number on a balance sheet.
One percent is the girl in Africa who gets to go to school, thanks to you. One percent is the AIDS patient who gets her medicine, thanks to you. One percent is the African entrepreneur who can start a small family business thanks to you. One percent is not redecorating presidential palaces or money flowing down a rat hole. This one percent is digging waterholes to provide clean water.
One percent is a new partnership with Africa, not paternalism towards Africa, where increased assistance flows toward improved governance and initiatives with proven track records and away from boondoggles and white elephants of every description.
America gives less than one percent now. Were asking for an extra one percent to change the world. to transform millions of lives—but not just that and I say this to the military men now – to transform the way that they see us.
One percent is national security, enlightened economic self interest, and a better safer world rolled into one. Sounds to me that in this town of deals and compromises, one percent is the best bargain around.
These goals—clean water for all; school for every child; medicine for the afflicted, an end to extreme and senseless poverty—these are not just any goals; they are the Millennium Development goals, which this country supports. And they are more than that. They are the Beatitudes for a Globalised World.
Now, I’m very lucky. I don’t have to sit on any budget committees. And I certainly don’t have to sit where you do, Mr. President. I don’t have to make the tough choices.
But I can tell you this:
To give one percent more is right. It’s smart. And it’s blessed.
There is a continent—Africa—being consumed by flames.
I truly believe that when the history books are written, our age will be remembered for three things: the war on terror, the digital revolution, and what we did—or did not to—to put the fire out in Africa.
History, like God, is watching what we do.
Thank you. Thank you, America, and God bless you all.
Mr. President, First Lady, King Abdullah, Other heads of State, Members of Congress, distinguished guests…
Please join me in praying that I don’t say something we’ll all regret.
That was for the FCC.
If you’re wondering what I’m doing here, at a prayer breakfast, well, so am I. I’m certainly not here as a man of the cloth, unless that cloth is leather. It’s certainly not because I’m a rock star. Which leaves one possible explanation: I’m here because I’ve got a messianic complex.
Yes, it’s true. And for anyone who knows me, it’s hardly a revelation.
Well, I’m the first to admit that there’s something unnatural… something unseemly… about rock stars mounting the pulpit and preaching at presidents, and then disappearing to their villas in the South of France. Talk about a fish out of water. It was weird enough when Jesse Helms showed up at a U2 concert… but this is really weird, isn’t it?
You know, one of the things I love about this country is its separation of church and state. Although I have to say: in inviting me here, both church and state have been separated from something else completely: their mind. .
Mr. President, are you sure about this?
It’s very humbling and I will try to keep my homily brief. But be warned—I’m Irish.
I’d like to talk about the laws of man, here in this city where those laws are written. And I’d like to talk about higher laws. It would be great to assume that the one serves the other; that the laws of man serve these higher laws… but of course, they don’t always. And I presume that, in a sense, is why you’re here.
I presume the reason for this gathering is that all of us here—Muslims, Jews, Christians—all are searching our souls for how to better serve our family, our community, our nation, our God.
I know I am. Searching, I mean. And that, I suppose, is what led me here, too.
Yes, it’s odd, having a rock star here—but maybe it’s odder for me than for you. You see, I avoided religious people most of my life. Maybe it had something to do with having a father who was Protestant and a mother who was Catholic in a country where the line between the two was, quite literally, a battle line. Where the line between church and state was… well, a little blurry, and hard to see.
I remember how my mother would bring us to chapel on Sundays… and my father used to wait outside. One of the things that I picked up from my father and my mother was the sense that religion often gets in the way of God.
For me, at least, it got in the way. Seeing what religious people, in the name of God, did to my native land… and in this country, seeing God’s second-hand car salesmen on the cable TV channels, offering indulgences for cash… in fact, all over the world, seeing the self-righteousness roll down like a mighty stream from certain corners of the religious establishment…
I must confess, I changed the channel. I wanted my MTV.
Even though I was a believer.
Perhaps because I was a believer.
I was cynical… not about God, but about God’s politics. (There you are, Jim.)
Then, in 1997, a couple of eccentric, septuagenarian British Christians went and ruined my shtick—my reproachfulness. They did it by describing the Millennium, the year 2000, as a Jubilee year, as an opportunity to cancel the chronic debts of the world’s poorest people. They had the audacity to renew the Lord’s call—and were joined by Pope John Paul II, who, from an Irish half-Catholic’s point of view, may have had a more direct line to the Almighty.
‘Jubilee’—why ‘Jubilee’?
What was this year of Jubilee, this year of our Lords favor?
I’d always read the Scriptures, even the obscure stuff. There it was in Leviticus (25:35)…
‘If your brother becomes poor,’ the Scriptures say, ‘and cannot maintain himself… you shall maintain him… You shall not lend him your money at interest, not give him your food for profit.’
It is such an important idea, Jubilee, that Jesus begins his ministry with this. Jesus is a young man, he’s met with the rabbis, impressed everyone, people are talking. The elders say, he’s a clever guy, this Jesus, but he hasn’t done much… yet. He hasn’t spoken in public before…
When he does, is first words are from Isaiah: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,’ he says, ‘because He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.’ And Jesus proclaims the year of the Lord’s favour, the year of Jubilee. (Luke 4:18)
What he was really talking about was an era of grace—and we’re still in it.
So fast-forward 2,000 years. That same thought, grace, was made incarnate—in a movement of all kinds of people. It wasn’t a bless-me club… it wasn’t a holy huddle. These religious guys were willing to get out in the streets, get their boots dirty, wave the placards, follow their convictions with actions… making it really hard for people like me to keep their distance. It was amazing. I almost started to like these church people.
But then my cynicism got another helping hand.
It was what Colin Powell, a five-star general, called the greatest W.M.D. of them all: a tiny little virus called A.I.D.S. And the religious community, in large part, missed it. The one’s that didn’t miss it could only see it as divine retribution for bad behaviour. Even on children… Even fastest growing group of HIV infections were married, faithful women.
Aha, there they go again! I thought to myself Judgmentalism is back!
But in truth, I was wrong again. The church was slow but the church got busy on this the leprosy of our age.
Love was on the move.
Mercy was on the move.
God was on the move.
Moving people of all kinds to work with others they had never met, never would have cared to meet… Conservative church groups hanging out with spokesmen for the gay community, all singing off the same hymn sheet on AIDS… Soccer moms and quarterbacks… hip-hop stars and country stars… This is what happens when God gets on the move: crazy stuff happens!
Popes were seen wearing sunglasses!
Jesse Helms was seen with a ghetto blaster!
Crazy stuff. Evidence of the spirit.
It was breathtaking. Literally. It stopped the world in its tracks.
When churches started demonstrating on debt, governments listened—and acted. When churches starting organising, petitioning, and even—that most unholy of acts today, God forbid, lobbying… on AIDS and global health, governments listened—and acted.
I’m here today in all humility to say: you changed minds; you changed policy; you changed the world.
Look, whatever thoughts you have about God, who He is or if He exists, most will agree that if there is a God, He has a special place for the poor. In fact, the poor are where God lives.
Check Judaism. Check Islam. Check pretty much anyone.
I mean, God may well be with us in our mansions on the hill… I hope so. He may well be with us as in all manner of controversial stuff… maybe, maybe not… But the one thing we can all agree, all faiths and ideologies, is that God is with the vulnerable and poor.
God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house… God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives… God is in the cries heard under the rubble of war… God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives, and God is with us if we are with them. “If you remove the yolk from your midst, the pointing of the finger and speaking wickedness, and if you give yourself to the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness and your gloom with become like midday and the Lord will continually guide you and satisfy your desire in scorched places”
It’s not a coincidence that in the Scriptures, poverty is mentioned more than 2,100 times. It’s not an accident. That’s a lot of air time, 2,100 mentions. [You know, the only time Christ is judgmental is on the subject of the poor.] ‘As you have done it unto the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto me.’ (Matthew 25:40). As I say, good news to the poor.
Here’s some good news for the President. After 9-11 we were told America would have no time for the World’s poor. America would be taken up with its own problems of safety. And it’s true these are dangerous times, but America has not drawn the blinds and double-locked the doors.
In fact, you have double aid to Africa. You have tripled funding for global health. Mr. President, your emergency plan for AIDS relief and support for the Global Fund—you and Congress—have put 700,000 people onto life-saving anti-retroviral drugs and provided 8 million bed nets to protect children from malaria.
Outstanding human achievements. Counterintuitive. Historic. Be very, very proud.
But here’s the bad news. From charity to justice, the good news is yet to come. There’s is much more to do. There’s a gigantic chasm between the scale of the emergency and the scale of the response.
And finally, it’s not about charity after all, is it? It’s about justice.
Let me repeat that: It’s not about charity, it’s about justice.
And that’s too bad.
Because you’re good at charity. Americans, like the Irish, are good at it. We like to give, and we give a lot, even those who can’t afford it.
But justice is a higher standard. Africa makes a fool of our idea of justice; it makes a farce of our idea of equality. It mocks our pieties, it doubts our concern, it questions our commitment.
6,500 Africans are still dying every day of a preventable, treatable disease, for lack of drugs we can buy at any drug store. This is not about charity, this is about Justice and Equality.
Because there's no way we can look at what’s happening in Africa and, if we're honest, conclude that deep down, we really accept that Africans are equal to us. Anywhere else in the world, we wouldn’t accept it. Look at what happened in South East Asia with the Tsunami. 150, 000 lives lost to that misnomer of all misnomers, “mother nature”. In Africa, 150,000 lives are lost every month. A tsunami every month. And it’s a completely avoidable catastrophe.
It’s annoying but justice and equality are mates. Aren’t they? Justice always wants to hang out with equality. And equality is a real pain.
You know, think of those Jewish sheep-herders going to meet the Pharaoh, mud on their shoes, and the Pharaoh says, “Equal?” A preposterous idea: rich and poor are equal? And they say, “Yeah, ‘equal,’ that’s what it says here in this book. We’re all made in the image of God.”
And eventually the Pharaoh says, “OK, I can accept that. I can accept the Jews—but not the blacks.”
“Not the women. Not the gays. Not the Irish. No way, man.”
So on we go with our journey of equality.
On we go in the pursuit of justice.
We hear that call in the ONE Campaign, a growing movement of more than two million Americans… left and right together… united in the belief that where you live should no longer determine whether you live.
We hear that call even more powerfully today, as we mourn the loss of Coretta Scott King—mother of a movement for equality, one that changed the world but is only just getting started. These issues are as alive as they ever were; they just change shape and cross the seas.
Preventing the poorest of the poor from selling their products while we sing the virtues of the free market… that’s a justice issue. Holding children to ransom for the debts of their grandparents… That’s a justice issue. Withholding life-saving medicines out of deference to the Office of Patents… that’s a justice issue.
And while the law is what we say it is, God is not silent on the subject.
That’s why I say there’s the law of the land… and then there is a higher standard. There’s the law of the land, and we can hire experts to write them so they benefit us, so the laws say it’s OK to protect our agriculture but it’s not OK for African farmers to do the same, to earn a living?
As the laws of man are written, that’s what they say.
God will not accept that.
Mine won’t, at least. Will yours?
[pause]
I close this morning on … very… thin… ice.
This is a dangerous idea I’ve put on the table: my God vs. your God, their God vs. our God… vs. no God. It is very easy, in these times, to see religion as a force for division rather than unity.
And this is a town—Washington—that knows something of division.
But the reason I am here, and the reason I keep coming back to Washington, is because this is a town that is proving it can come together on behalf of what the Scriptures call the least of these.
This is not a Republican idea. It is not a Democratic idea. It is not even, with all due respect, an American idea. Nor it is unique to any one faith.
Do to others as you would have them do to you.’ (Luke 6:30) Jesus says that.
‘Righteousness is this: that one should… give away wealth out of love for Him to the near of kin and the orphans and the needy and the wayfarer and the beggars and for the emancipation of the captives.’ The Koran says that. (2.177)
Thus sayeth the Lord: ‘Bring the homeless poor into the house, when you see the naked, cover him, then your light will break out like the dawn and your recovery will speedily spring fourth, then your Lord will be your rear guard.’ The jewish scripture says that. Isaiah 58 again.
That is a powerful incentive: ‘The Lord will watch your back.’ Sounds like a good deal to me, right now.
A number of years ago, I met a wise man who changed my life. In countless ways, large and small, I was always seeking the Lord’s blessing. I was saying, you know, I have a new song, look after it… I have a family, please look after them… I have this crazy idea…
And this wise man said: stop.
He said, stop asking God to bless what you’re doing.
Get involved in what God is doing—because it’s already blessed.
Well, God, as I said, is with the poor. That, I believe, is what God is doing.
And that is what He’s calling us to do.
I was amazed when I first got to this country and I learned how much some churchgoers tithe. Up to ten percent of the family budget. Well, how does that compare the federal budget, the budget for the entire American family? How much of that goes to the poorest people in the world? Less than one percent.
Mr. President, Congress, people of faith, people of America:
I want to suggest to you today that you see the flow of effective foreign assistance as tithing…. Which, to be truly meaningful, will mean an additional one percent of the federal budget tithed to the poor.
What is one percent?
One percent is not merely a number on a balance sheet.
One percent is the girl in Africa who gets to go to school, thanks to you. One percent is the AIDS patient who gets her medicine, thanks to you. One percent is the African entrepreneur who can start a small family business thanks to you. One percent is not redecorating presidential palaces or money flowing down a rat hole. This one percent is digging waterholes to provide clean water.
One percent is a new partnership with Africa, not paternalism towards Africa, where increased assistance flows toward improved governance and initiatives with proven track records and away from boondoggles and white elephants of every description.
America gives less than one percent now. Were asking for an extra one percent to change the world. to transform millions of lives—but not just that and I say this to the military men now – to transform the way that they see us.
One percent is national security, enlightened economic self interest, and a better safer world rolled into one. Sounds to me that in this town of deals and compromises, one percent is the best bargain around.
These goals—clean water for all; school for every child; medicine for the afflicted, an end to extreme and senseless poverty—these are not just any goals; they are the Millennium Development goals, which this country supports. And they are more than that. They are the Beatitudes for a Globalised World.
Now, I’m very lucky. I don’t have to sit on any budget committees. And I certainly don’t have to sit where you do, Mr. President. I don’t have to make the tough choices.
But I can tell you this:
To give one percent more is right. It’s smart. And it’s blessed.
There is a continent—Africa—being consumed by flames.
I truly believe that when the history books are written, our age will be remembered for three things: the war on terror, the digital revolution, and what we did—or did not to—to put the fire out in Africa.
History, like God, is watching what we do.
Thank you. Thank you, America, and God bless you all.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Thursday, February 16, 2006
I shot the sheriff
oh my goodness. Did you know that I use to be funny? I was perusing my archives and i thought, "did I actually wirte that? because i don't remember being that funny." i think it was the sleep depravation that comes along with a newborn and cracked bleeding nipples, because i obviously was delirious.
speaking of nipples, today at labschool as Piper and I were going to the art room to pick up her projects, we passed theblock room where one of the other mothers was breastfeeding her 3 year old. Yes, 3 year old. Now, I am all for the breastfeeding and such and I am actually still nursing Finley who is 15 months, but occasionaly and on no particular schedule and she isn't 3. It was just uncomfortable. I told myself not to judge, really, I did tell myself that, but you know...she's 3.
By the way, if you live around here where people stop to take pictures of the "Welcome to Cocoa Beach" sign (yes, i saw people doind this today on the side of the road) you should know that there is a local who is somewhat famous for being cooky. You may have met him. He is The Sheriff of Cocoa Village. He is dressed all in black a la Johnny Cash and on his lapel is a shiny gold plastic badge that he will point out as he introduces himself as "Howdy, I'm the Sheriff of these parts. Hold on to those children sos nothin happens to 'em." Right.
Well, we happened to run into The Sheriff in our local mall but he had abandoned his black ensemble although still wearing a cowboy hat and when we saw him he was holding out a bear in his hand. Without a word, he moved from person to person with a wide creepy grin and if you unfortunately made eye-contact he pressed the bear's paw which started a chain reaction of singing and wiggling (from the bear) and giggling (from The Sheriff). Yeah. ok. right.
My advice on how to deal with The Sheriff? Play along, it is way more fun.
speaking of nipples, today at labschool as Piper and I were going to the art room to pick up her projects, we passed theblock room where one of the other mothers was breastfeeding her 3 year old. Yes, 3 year old. Now, I am all for the breastfeeding and such and I am actually still nursing Finley who is 15 months, but occasionaly and on no particular schedule and she isn't 3. It was just uncomfortable. I told myself not to judge, really, I did tell myself that, but you know...she's 3.
By the way, if you live around here where people stop to take pictures of the "Welcome to Cocoa Beach" sign (yes, i saw people doind this today on the side of the road) you should know that there is a local who is somewhat famous for being cooky. You may have met him. He is The Sheriff of Cocoa Village. He is dressed all in black a la Johnny Cash and on his lapel is a shiny gold plastic badge that he will point out as he introduces himself as "Howdy, I'm the Sheriff of these parts. Hold on to those children sos nothin happens to 'em." Right.
Well, we happened to run into The Sheriff in our local mall but he had abandoned his black ensemble although still wearing a cowboy hat and when we saw him he was holding out a bear in his hand. Without a word, he moved from person to person with a wide creepy grin and if you unfortunately made eye-contact he pressed the bear's paw which started a chain reaction of singing and wiggling (from the bear) and giggling (from The Sheriff). Yeah. ok. right.
My advice on how to deal with The Sheriff? Play along, it is way more fun.
Sonnet XVII
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Pablo Neruda
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Pablo Neruda
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Tag, I'm it!
So, I decided to tag myself because I want to answer this meme:
four jobs I've had
1. File slave in my dad's pediatrics office
2. Do-all at a pharmacy chain
3. Nanny
4. Kindergarten teacher
four movies I could watch over and over
1. Pretty in Pink
2. Love Actually
3. Almost Famous
4. grease 2 (don't ask me why)
four places I have lived
1. merritt island, florida
2. tallahassee, florida
3. and merritt island, florida again
4. that's it
four tv shows i love
1. the office
2. grey's anatomy
3. project runway
4. gilmore girls
5. injustice
four places i've vacationed
1. st. croix (hated it)
2. turks and caicos
3. curacao
4. costa rica
four of my favorite dishes
1. chicken fried rice
2. vegetable pad thai
3. reshmi kabobs
4. coconut shrimp
four sites i visit daily - only the tip of the iceberg
1. marketingshift
2. flickr
3. celebrity baby blog
4. don't wreck your head
four places i'd rather be right now - all including my girls and hubby
1. beaches of curacao
2. beaches of the bahamas
3. beaches of the turks
4. any beach where it is sunny and warm and i am skinny
so, if you feel so inclined you can tag yourself.
four jobs I've had
1. File slave in my dad's pediatrics office
2. Do-all at a pharmacy chain
3. Nanny
4. Kindergarten teacher
four movies I could watch over and over
1. Pretty in Pink
2. Love Actually
3. Almost Famous
4. grease 2 (don't ask me why)
four places I have lived
1. merritt island, florida
2. tallahassee, florida
3. and merritt island, florida again
4. that's it
four tv shows i love
1. the office
2. grey's anatomy
3. project runway
4. gilmore girls
5. injustice
four places i've vacationed
1. st. croix (hated it)
2. turks and caicos
3. curacao
4. costa rica
four of my favorite dishes
1. chicken fried rice
2. vegetable pad thai
3. reshmi kabobs
4. coconut shrimp
four sites i visit daily - only the tip of the iceberg
1. marketingshift
2. flickr
3. celebrity baby blog
4. don't wreck your head
four places i'd rather be right now - all including my girls and hubby
1. beaches of curacao
2. beaches of the bahamas
3. beaches of the turks
4. any beach where it is sunny and warm and i am skinny
so, if you feel so inclined you can tag yourself.
Bug and Birdie and Pajama Pants
Happy Valentine's day everyone! We had a lovely day here...Jason took Piper on a date to the movies and then we had a delicious dinner and the girls received their gifts from me which had me working late into the night the night before. Jason and I were talking later about how we view this hloiday after having children and how our feelings have shifted from a romantic love on Valentine's Day to a more all-encompassing love for our family and friends. Piper, however, focused on her love of candy and desserts.
Pajama pants for Jason
A love-bug for my Bug
Sweet birdie for my Birdie
Pajama pants for Jason
A love-bug for my Bug
Sweet birdie for my Birdie
Friday, February 03, 2006
Dear Jason,
Happy Birthday Jase! Thank you for all the hard work you do to take care of our family. Thank you for supporting us, not only financially but with your time and love. Our life is so good and you are a big part of that and make our life spontaneous and exciting. You make our family fun and extraordinary. I love the father that you are to our girls and the friend that you are to me. I love you. Happy Birthday, I'm glad that you were born.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
She's not a baby anymore
Piper is 3!!! It has been a gradual aging over the past few weeks as she has become not the eager-to-please 2 year old she once was, but the independent and spirited little girl who is "three years old, mama."
The party was a success on all accounts and I think that everyone had fun. We rented a big bouncy castle and painted flowerpots and planted strawberry plants and ate cake and opened presents, meeting all the requirements of a birthday party. I don't think there were any tears and Piper was an excellent hostess.
Last night was our little family party. It's like we spend a whole week celebrating birthdays in this family. I think Piper got more presents last night just from us and her grammy and grandpaw than she did at her party with her friends!
She's three. I am still wrapping my head and heart around that fact. What I want for her is all the extraordinary things about life to be hers. I want her to feel special and unique and loved and safe. I am so in love with this little girl...Her laugh, her smile, her singing, even her pouting.
What she doesn't know is that on her birthday, I was the one who received the gift...the gift of this perfect little girl. She is amazing, my bug.
Tie One On
I've joined this group, Tie One On, that makes an apron each month and each month has a new theme. January was an apron from old clothes, so, I used and old pair of jeans and an old dress and an old belt and voila! - an apron. No tthe most original idea, but very easy and quick to make.
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