

Adam, 29, and his wife are rebuilding their home in New Orleans after Katrina demolished it. Today he was working on it, and sent one young son up to the house (which is on stilts) to fetch something. When the boy didn't return, he sent the next youngest son up after him. Curious as to why they weren't returning, he went up after them, and found both lying face down in the dirt, both bitten by a poisonous snake. He called 911, and they told him it would be quicker if he drove the boys himself to the hospital. So he grabbed both under each arm, put them in the truck, and in his haste and panic, drove over and killed his 3-year-old child. Both boys ended up dying from the snake bite, so this man and his wife lost all three of their children today. Please ask the Lord to overwhelm them with graces and faith.
Eternal God, in whom mercy is endless and the treasury of compassion inexhaustible, look kindly upon us and increase Your mercy in us, that in difficult moments we might not despair nor become despondent, but with great confidence submit ourselves to Your holy will, which is Love and Mercy itself. Amen.[icon source]
After buying her kids a pet hamster, after they PROMISED they would take care of it, Mom, as usual, ended up with the responsibility.
One evening, exasperated, she asked them, "How many times do you think that hamster would have died if I hadn't looked after it?"
After a moment, her youngest son replied quizzically, "Once?"
Distressed, the manager of the store ran over to the blind man and shrieked, "WHAT IN TARNATION ARE YOU DOING??!!??"
Calmly, the blind man stopped swinging the dog around and answered, "Oh, just having a look around."
"Sex divorced from love, instead of raising man by taking him away from himself, drags him down to the hall of mirrors where he is always confronted with self. Sex does not care about the person, but about the act. The fig leaf which once was put over the secret parts of man and woman in sculpture is now put over the face. The person does not matter."
~ Servant of God Archbishop Fulton John Sheen (1895 - 1979), Those Mysterious Priests, 1974
Back in what I suppose you could call "Phase I" of my conversion, when I had been looking into Christianity for a while and, to my great surprise, found it more and more compelling, there was one concern that weighed heavily on my mind: what would this mean for my relationships with my gay friends?
Three of my husband and my very dearest friends and many of our acquaintances are gay, and live gay lifestyles. And though I didn't know many of the details, I knew enough about Christianity to be pretty sure that if I were to become a Christian I would be part of a belief system that said that there was something wrong with the homosexual lifestyle. It gave me pause. On the one hand, so much seemed true about this religion's teachings. It seemed on so many different levels that I was on the right path here. But I just didn't see how I was ever going to make sense of the teaching that homosexuality is wrong. The gay couples I knew didn't seem to be doing anything all that different than the straight couples I knew. It didn't feel right to say that Julie and Tom's relationship was somehow superior to David and Mark's when the sole difference between them was that Julie and Tom are of opposite genders and had a piece of paper from the state saying they were "married". Who cares?
Something about the whole thing felt wrong. It seemed that what I would essentially need to say to my gay friends based on my newfound belief system (as I understood it) was, "As a person who is attracted to the opposite sex, I get a sort of 'get out of sin free' card as soon as I commit to sexual monogamy through marriage. Sex is a gift God gave us for pleasure...but only heterosexuals can indulge in that pleasure." Based on that view, it made heterosexuals sound like some kind of chosen people. If God's law is such that sexual acts between two people of the same gender are always wrong, even if those same acts might be committed by a heterosexual couple with no problem, it kind of makes it feel like God has something against people who are attracted to the same gender.
All of this nagged at me for months, and was a real sticking point for me in moving forward with Christianity
I'm selling a bunch of Pokemon cards. Why? Because my kids sneaked them into my shopping cart while at the grocery store and I ended up buying them because I didn't notice they were there until we got home. How could I have possibly not noticed they were in my cart, you ask? Let me explain.
You haven’t lived until you’ve gone grocery shopping with six kids in tow. I would rather swim, covered in bait, through the English Channel, be a contestant on Fear Factor when they’re having pig brains for lunch, or do fourth grade math than to take my six kids to the grocery store. Because I absolutely detest grocery shopping, I tend to put it off as long as possible. There comes a time, however, when you’re peering into your fridge and thinking, ‘Hmmm, what can I make with ketchup, Italian dressing, and half an onion,’ that you decide you cannot avoid going to the grocery store any longer. Before beginning this most treacherous mission, I gather all the kids together and give them “The Lecture“.
“The Lecture“ goes like this…
MOM: “We have to go to the grocery store.”
KIDS: “Whine whine whine whine whine.“
MOM: “Hey, I don’t want to go either, but it’s either that or we’re eating cream of onion-ketchup soup and drinking Italian dressing for dinner tonight.”
KIDS: “Whine whine whine whine whine.“
MOM: “Now here are the rules: do not ask me for anything, do not poke the packages of meat in the butcher section, do not test the laws of physics and try to take out the bottom can in the pyramid shaped display, do not play baseball with oranges in the produce section, and most importantly, do not try to leave your brother at the store. Again.”
OK, the kids have been briefed. Time to go.
Once at the store, we grab not one, but two shopping carts. I wear the baby in a sling and the two little children sit in the carts while I push one cart and my oldest son pushes the other one. My oldest daughter is not allowed to push a cart. Ever. Why? Because the last time I let her push the cart, she smashed into my ankles so many times, my feet had to be amputated by the end of our shopping trip. This is not a good thing. You try running after a toddler with no feet sometime.
At this point, a woman looks at our two carts and asks me, “Are they all yours?” I answer good naturedly, “Yep!"
“Oh my, you have your hands full.”
“Yes, I do, but it‘s fun!” I say smiling. I’ve heard all this before. In fact, I hear it every time I go anywhere with my brood.
We begin in the produce section where all these wonderfully, artistically arranged pyramids of fruit stand. There is something so irresistibly appealing about the apple on the bottom of the pile, that a child cannot help but try to touch it. Much like a bug to a zapper, the child is drawn to this piece of fruit. I turn around to the sounds of apples cascading down the display and onto the floor. Like Indiana Jones, there stands my son holding the all-consuming treasure that he just HAD to get and gazing at me with this dumbfounded look as if to say, “Did you see that??? Wow! I never thought that would happen!”
I give the offending child an exasperated sigh and say, “Didn’t I tell you, before we left, that I didn’t want you taking stuff from the bottom of the pile???”
“No. You said that you didn’t want us to take a can from the bottom of the pile. You didn’t say anything about apples.”
With superhuman effort, I resist the urge to send my child to the moon and instead focus on the positive - my child actually listened to me and remembered what I said!!! I make a mental note to be a little more specific the next time I give the kids The Grocery Store Lecture.
A little old man looks at all of us and says, “Are all of those your kids?”
Thinking about the apple incident, I reply, “Nope. They just started following me. I’ve never seen them before in my life.”
Here are a few things that people not from New Jersey might not know -- no wonder they are proud of their state!
Okay, so it's not all good. (No one likes the taxes and high auto insurance.) But it is a pretty cool list, and I always was fond of annoying people and calling the Jets and Giants "New Jersey" instead of "New York." Christine
Wikipedia says this about the praying mantis:
SensesPraying mantids, with their huge compound eyes mounted on the triangular head, have a large field of vision. They use sight for detecting movement of prey and then turn their mobile head to bring their prey into their binocular field of view. They are able to turn their head 180 degrees for excellent vision and hearing. Their antennae are used for smell.
Praying mantids can be found in all parts of the world with mild winters and sufficient vegetation. Praying mantids will spend most of their time in a garden, forest or other vegetated area.
Habitat
Diet
Being a carnivorous insect, the mantis feeds primarily on other insects. However, it is not uncommon for larger mantis to consume small reptiles and even small birds.[2]
To capture their prey, mantids use their camouflage to blend in with the surroundings and wait for the prey to be within striking distance. They then use their raptorial front legs to quickly snatch the victim and devour it.
Some of the articles and talks I've written are to do with the subject of religion, which I think is a very interesting one. The religious impulse – which includes the sense of awe and mystery we feel when we look at the universe, the urge to find a meaning and a purpose in our lives, our sense of moral kinship with other human beings – is part of being human, and I value it. I'd be a damn fool not to.
But organised religion is quite another thing. The trouble is that all too often in human history, churches and priesthoods have set themselves up to rule people's lives in the name of some invisible god (and they're all invisible, because they don't exist) – and done terrible damage. In the name of their god, they have burned, hanged, tortured, maimed, robbed, violated, and enslaved millions of their fellow-creatures, and done so with the happy conviction that they were doing the will of God, and they would go to Heaven for it.
That is the religion I hate, and I'm happy to be known as its enemy.
From time to time I have a new thought on the subject. When I come up with something worth writing down, I'll put it here.
Before the railings.
Ready for staining!
Hubby is ready, too.
If you look closely, you can see Little Girl bent over and painting the railing behind Big Girl. (I swear I was working before this; I had taken a break to drink something - it was 90 degrees! - and took this picture of my busy family.)
As we were wrapping up, I realized that even though I'd done half the work on the floor of the deck, and a good portion of the railings and sides, there were NO pictures of me working. As I was finishing the step, I told Hubby, "Go get the camera and take a picture of me working, please. I've worked hard all day and there aren't any pictures of me doing anything!" Not that I look very good here, but let's face it: when you are in the middle of staining a deck this size, you really aren't out for a beauty prize, you know? ;)
Whew! Finished at last!