Took an unusual turn with this one.

The Big Chill is one of my favorite movies. A long forgotten oldie, but a goodie. One of those  reunion movies of college friends.  As a sidebar, it might actually be one of the best soundtracks, EVER.
As I steer my ever restless soul towards my childhood home, it is the abundant memories that capture my thoughts. I recently went on a medical mission trip to Myanmar. Travel begets travel begets travel. Strangely, it was different this time. On the 31 hour jaunt back to the United States, I could not push aside the feeling that I needed to get home. Traveling usually sends my thoughts into saving the world and living abroad. Not this time. I finished the book "When Helping Hurts" and felt the bitter truth of it wash over me. A handout is hurtful. A hand-up, on the other hand, lifesaving. How and why that translates into me returning to middle America, I don't quite know.
My return is far less exciting than any reunion tour. Sesame Street would probably get a better turn out. I am just someone new in town. A new face with a new car. People might try to place me. Who I belong to and where I have come from. When the sun sets, all thoughts of me have shuffled on to other topics. As they should.
I, on the other hand, feel somewhat stuck in this ethereal reality of past, present and future. Who I was, I am no longer.  Who I am already seems to be morphing into my future self.  Most athletic is only good for the yearbook, not the 25 year class reunion. Favorite teachers and back road music had their place in the life of long ago. Now, I struggle with how to address the educators from my youth. Mrs. Lett, Mrs. Trout, Ms. A., Mr. Johnson. I'm not sure I could ever call them Beth, Karla, Ann, or Greg. They had too much influence to be considered an acquaintance. Their opinions, I would still hold in high esteem. And the fact that high school students now have a whole new set of inspirational teachers, seems to put their status forever and always in my memory as icons in my life story. March 24th, 2018 was a big day for students. 'March for our lives' footage from across the US was being broadcast on TV. Kids are scared. When an alarm sounds in their school, it might very well be their worst nightmare. The reason why leaves my heart and mind in a state of pure anger. Every high school student knows the classmate that is a loner, left out, and the butt of all jokes. No one wants to admit that they picked on the "weird" kid, the future school shooter. Teachers don't fess up that they could've told you which child was in need of help. What would happen if they were wrong?
Worrying that a school shooting could occur on any given school day is enough to drive change in school security. But, it hasn't made as much of an impact as one would hope. It would not be easy to go against the instinct of self preservation when there's an active school shooter. Not going to lie, I have felt that I would storm the doors and take out a shooter if given a chance. I have looked in the eyes of my niece and nephew and considered the possibility that a school resource officer would be paralyzed by the gunfire and not enter and engage the shooter. I bristle at my own judgment of the person who didn't protect and serve. My jaw is still clenched at the thought of it. The ease of which I can imagine my life being fueled by the anger at that person for the loss of either or, God forbid both of these children, scares me. If it ever happens, please, someone make sure I never buy a gun.
These are the times that we live in. High school girls and boys wonder if their emotions, thoughts, and curiosities make them the opposite gender. The whisper in society tells them that they don't need to identify as the gender they were born with. The yelling of society seems to be saying that it is wrong for them to be identified as completely male or completely female. With sexuality being pushed onto third graders, I don't see the end of school shootings anytime in the near future. When did it become such an egregious state to question what a child is thinking? Are parents not supposed to be their shelter and guidance in a storm? Lovingly accepting what he or she is going through, walking along side them, and yet still setting boundaries? I have good friends who have in fact dealt with this. A son who feels like a girl. A niece who identifies as a man. I am not degrading their choices. I do not know what I would do if I were in their shoes.  I honestly don't. As it it presented to me now, a woman without children or any real parenting experience, it is completely hypocritical of me to say this, but I've gotten this far, I can't pretend like I wouldn't have an inkling of the course of action I would take. I would love my child through and through. I would seek to understand and I would seek to guide the child into the realm of all possibilities. If one currently feels more feminine or masculine, than dissolving all gender bias would be my preference. Please, my love, exist as your perfect soul with the understanding that society, or better marketing and entertainment, weave these ideas of asexuality like spring rain clouds. My beloved, it is normal to feel like both a boy and a girl before puberty, during puberty, and even after. We are all called to find strength in the overwhelming abundance of God's duality. Enjoy your childhood, and the rest will figure itself out in due course.
Whatever the name of the generation is after the Millennial's, I just want to say you've got options that you don't need to feel forced to act on. Boy vs. Girl? How about young and happy? Let's strive to give you your best childhood.

My Almighty Father, Creator, and Savior- I pray for the peace of mind and spirit that comes with knowing oneself. May you bless each child and family struggling with this, a joyful heart and an accepting mind. Give us all grace through confusion, so that we may show grace to others through theirs. You are the author of our lives and what is good with You, is good with us. I pray this in the character and identity of Jesus Christ. Amen   

Because, you are loved.

Not every perfect day or wayward sorrowful tear is by grand design or for a traitor’s glory. Measurements of happiness and joy are the best way to feel like you don’t have either. Walking from a fanciful belief in karma and the simplicity of unattachment finds a person in complete disarray when their heart is broken into unrecognizable pieces by those that we should never feel unattached to. Painful memories make for turbulent self-talk and the best one can hope for, is to find out early that our mind and the little voice from inside is often a liar and at times deadly to our own lives. One door closes ad another opens is of no use if the doors are revolving. We can’t live on the moving walkway of life and not somehow show up late to our own truths. So much searching and seeking. Looking for the obscure in plain sight, but never finding it, because there is only one truth that matters and none of us wanted anything to do with it. Nonsense lead to whimsy and whimsy gave us the bullet for our Russian roulette life choices. Not killing another soul, nor maiming an innocent life. We propped up our own great esteem as a good person.

Heart ache, anger, and the pursuit of the good life fueled our need for instant gratification of our self-indulgences. Living by our senses, without a guidebook or even a quarter to decide by heads or tails which way to go. Half lived dreams. The ending of unbroken marriage for the sake of our future self. Living the day away in thoughts of some great, elusive ideal status. Spending years on all the wrong dreams and killing millions of possibilities for imperfect perfection. The kind of muddy, ugly, shoe prints on the carpet day, that held within its boundaries a slice of humanity and the beautiful feeling of authentic laughter. We ruin far better amounts of our lives being discouraged by the complete drabness of our hair, then moments of criticism would ever do. We fear honesty. Giving and receiving and like to uphold the false pretense that everyone we meet is interesting, kind, and worthy of a Facebook post. But you are not interesting, young lady with the overly corrected sense of self- importance. You are not interesting old man who dishes out racism in its newer forms of homophobia and the updated objectification of women. You men who lust after children and do things to them that ruin their chances of normalcy. Your greed and your abhorrent attempt to rationalize that what you do isn’t that bad. The lies of neighbors have continued on for years that no one knows anymore where one property starts and one ends. Loneliness becomes common at parties and you wonder how the world seems to have gone to hell in a handbasket. News outlets feeding the masses with prettied up dishonesty, claiming an anonymous source close to the situation. The fever of discontent leaves behind nothing but apathy for any real solutions. Caring not the time or place of death as long as it isn’t yours. Prioritizing your right to do what you want, when you want and how you want. When the reality is that most spew this priority over what they don’t want others to be able to do. Do not mention God. Do not allow anyone else to discipline your ghastly daft and obnoxious offspring. Blame it on the red dye, air pollution, or life saving vaccinations, but whatever you do don’t stand up and take a shred of responsibility for your selfish life choices and cry on and on about how you were somehow failed by society. Self-hatred could be a refreshing thing for the world if every arrogant, egomaniacal, narcissistic excuse for a human being would take it up on a daily basis. But evil would never even consider it. Too lofty in their own imaginations of how mighty they are, evil is as evil does. I’m sick of people whining and complaining. We need more gun control, we need to legalize more things that allow us to numb up and care less, we need to save the planet, the animals, the oceans. But forget all of the children without functioning parents who are raising themselves on low expectations and putting the blame on everyone else. If they could just pull themselves up by the moral superiority complex that every white, middle class American has for those in poverty, then they wouldn’t be in that awful situation. Doing enough through all the taxes they pay to help those lazy welfare slobs that wake up hungry every day and go to bed the same way. Continuing to kid themselves that they are hard working Americans and shouldn’t have to pay anyone else’s way, because no one paid theirs.

I beg to differ.

Jesus Christ paid the way for you. Oh, NOW she’s getting all religious hell fire and brimstone. You betcha. That ridiculous belief that the universe is just one Bob Ross happy accident cycling through its trajectory toward annihilation. Go ahead and continue believing that what you do or don’t do has no real consequence, as long as you don’t hurt anyone, right? Nope. Not how it works. Not even sort of. How about you look into the inspired word of God before you go about running your mouth about believers being brainwashed and mentally inferior. How about you stop “not hurting anyone” and go out and actually be of help to this world, to someone else that has a need you can fill. No, not your bartenders and waitresses, although, I’m sure they are grateful for the nice tip you gave them to save your karma for being an unbearable person to work with or worse, live with. Take your smug, elitist way of life and turn it down about a million notches, and then you might be 0.1% closer to understand the power and glory of the one true God. You will live a dead man’s life the longer you rationalize your beliefs on God as being a character in a book. Hugs and prayers don’t belong in this post. The fact is that there is truth out there. It is not new age or some fuzzy fluffy good vibes in the world. It is the truth of the Creator as evidenced by creation. It has been handed down and preserved over the millennia and answers your deepest longing for eternity. He is what fills the void of your soul. He is because He lives. You owe Him every breath you take, every word you speak, and every thought of happiness. As you return what is rightfully His. He will love your wretched soul enough to reward you 100-fold.