Merry Christmas 2016

Merry Christmas, friends. It's that time of year again where we yet again reflect on the goodness of the year as well as the parts of the year that refine us through challenge. What a year it's been. Yet we are thankful. Here's a short list of our gratitude:

Family
Old friends
New friends
Our new neighbors (my parents!!)
Healthy bodies
Amazing kiddos
Homeschool
A new puppy
70th birthdays
80th birthdays
15-year anniversaries
Sanibel Island
The Rivi
White Pine Wilderness Academy
Classical Conversations
Trees ("they give us oxygen")
Camping
Leaf piles
A cozy house
Puzzles
Taco Tuesday
A great hairstylist
Good music by good people
Modern medicine
Hope in Jesus
Mr. Rogers
Good books
Lingering evenings
Arista wine
Super moons
Butler Bulldogs
Red shoes
Airplanes that keep us connected
Razor scooters
Helpers

We lost our beloved Maxine the Wonderdog suddenly this past February. Losing Maxine was hard for many reasons and without her, there was a gaping hole in our family, having spent all 15 years of our married life together with a dog. This November, we welcomed Gus the Wonderdog with much enthusiasm and ample cuddling.

With all that has transpired in the world around us, we look to the future with hope knowing that we are all connected and that we all have the ability to be helpers and to look for the helpers.

As we move forward with hope, we are challenged by the words of St. Francis of Assisi, that we may not seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. We pray we can always be instruments of peace, sowing love where there is hatred, sowing faith where there is doubt, sowing hope where there is despair, sowing light where there is darkness, and sowing joy where there is sadness. May we all be challenged to live a life worthy of this call.

Godspeed,
K & MB

And still I pray...

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.

Oh, divine Master, grant that I may
Not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.
For it's in giving that we receive
And it's in pardoning that we are pardoned
And it's in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen

(The Prayer of St. Francis)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=agPnMxp5Occ

Election 2016 - I Am Disappointed

“What do you do with the mad that you feel

When you feel so mad you could bite?

When the whole wide world seems oh, so wrong...

And nothing you do seems very right?

“What do you do? Do you punch a bag?

Do you pound some clay or some dough?

Do you round up friends for a game of tag?

Or see how fast you go?

“It's great to be able to stop

When you've planned a thing that's wrong,

And be able to do something else instead

And think this song:

“I can stop when I want to

Can stop when I wish.

I can stop, stop, stop any time.

And what a good feeling to feel like this

And know that the feeling is really mine.

Know that there's something deep inside

That helps us become what we can.

For a girl can be someday a woman

And a boy can be someday a man.”

(www.pbskids.org/rogers/songLyricsWhatDoYouDo.html)

Today, as with many days, I find myself singing one of Mr. Fred Rogers’ timeless songs. “What Do You Do With the Mad That You Feel?” seems to be appropriate for today. Because I’m mad. And frustrated. And disappointed. I expected more. I feel all of these things and more. But my feelings are not directed at Washington, DC or towards Donald Trump or his team. My feelings are directed at you. My friends. My neighbors. My relatives. My people. You have disappointed me.

When I woke up to the news that Donald Trump would be our next President, I was shocked. But what has been more shocking is to see the commentary so many of you have blown out to the wind through social media. From feeling like you are living in the wrong state to “what do we tell our children” to “I thought we were more intelligent than this,” I am shocked & saddened.

I live with three small people in my house. Maybe your children are grown or you don’t have any children or simply have forgotten how children speak to and about one another. But my children often belittle each other, call each other bad names, think of only themselves, and can’t see a smidge outside of their own self-interest. And as I read these responses from intelligent adults whom I love & admire, and all I can say is…

Shame on you.  You are acting like children. Insulting others for how they might have voted. Insulting our country. You hide your own ignorance & selfishness in sarcasm & witty banter, and I am disappointed in you. No, today I am ashamed of you.

We try to teach our kids to show dignity & respect to all people, to show love in the face of evil, to care for the poor and brokenhearted and hurt. We teach our kids to show mercy & to forgive. And here you are dehumanizing others. Shame on you.

What do we say to our children on such a morning as this? Let me help you. You say, “Good morning. How did you sleep? I love you. We have a new president. And thank goodness there are a lot of helpers out there who are going to stand up and help him because he has a big job that no one can do alone.”

If you all haven’t noticed, this is a broken world. There are no perfect people. Shame on you for putting faith in man, who is flawed and broken and full of evils of all colors and shapes. Shame on you for scaring our children, this next generation of helpers & changemakers. Shame on you. I expected more from you.

Kingdoms rise & kingdoms fall. Want to move? Then move. I’ll buy your ticket. Otherwise, stop complaining & ridiculing & shaming & making everyone else who didn’t vote your way feel like imbeciles. As President Obama reminded us today, we are all Americans. We are on the same team. And we must move forward.

Remember that scene in the film “Miracle” when Kurt Russell is running his team hard, asking them, “Who do you play for?” and the guys kept saying where they’re from & their various universities and he kept running them harder and harder. And the guys are exhausted thinking their coach had lost it. He keeps running them, again and again and again. And finally one player shouts out, “Michael Eruzione, Winthrop, Massachusetts, and I play for the United States of America.” And it’s over. The coach lets them all go home. (www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEXS8TBd6ug) That is the scene playing out today, folks. Who do you play for? Because I thought we were all on the same team.

So today, instead of belittling our fellow Americans, focus on what you have the power within yourselves to do. As Mr. Rogers reminds us, “Look for the helpers” and be grateful for them. Teach our children to be helpers, without sarcasm or bitterness or disgust. Show them what love is with your actions, knowing & believing that we are all connected. Your words are like knives. When we hurt one, we hurt all. And when we help one, we help all.

So stop it with the biting remarks. And start being the helpers that I know you are.

mbj

Goodbye Sweet Maxine

Yesterday afternoon, we had to make the hard decision to put our sweet Maxine down. She became very sick very quickly. We're not sure what made her so sick but K suspects it was cancer based on some preliminary tests she had done several months ago. She was 10 years old and had a great life outside her very rough start. (She was a survivor of Hurricane Katrina back in 2005.)

When we first brought her into our home, I sort of thought of her as Syd's dog. Syd was aging and we wanted him to train our next dog. As a bonus, having a new girlfriend seemed to put the hop back in Syd's step. So they went together…like Paul Simon & Edie Brickell. When Syd died back in June of 2013, Maxine represented a part of him that remained. Now with Maxine gone, it feels like the end of an era.

Not to mention this is the first time in 15 years together that K & I have been without a dog. K looks empty-handed on our walks. There is a big void in our house…someone is missing. While I started out seeing her as Syd's dog, she quickly moved into the beloved family dog spot.

We will miss her crazy sounds, the way she let you, nay insist you pet her nonstop. If you dared to stop, she would nudge you, lick you, lean into you, whatever she needed to do to keep those hands of yours petting. She had the silkiest ears of any dog I've known. They always looked like pigtails to me. I will miss stroking those. We will miss her daintiness, how she'd lay elegantly with her front paws crossed, looking so regal. We will even miss how she'd wander into the baby's room when we'd leave the house and help herself to any number of stuffed animals, leaving a trail throughout the house. (Remarkably, she would rarely damage any of them.)

Our youngest child, R, loved her so much. "Dog," or "daw" as he says it, was one of his first words. He'd often wander over to her and gently lean into her, putting his head ever so carefully on her body. He loved giving her treats and holding her toys and giving her little pushes from behind. He'd crawl on her bed whenever he got the chance and just lay there.

We will miss you dearly, Maxine the Wonderdog. Thanks for being part of our family. Have fun with Sydney, romping in heaven. He was your best pal of all. Rest in peace.

Maxine The Wonderdog

(July 2005-February 10, 2016)