Freedom isn’t free

Freedom isn’t free.

It’s Memorial Day and, I think, like many, I get a little choked up about remembering people that I’ve never met. Men and women who without concern for self, believed this concept of freedom and liberty were worth sacrificing themselves to champion. Who didn’t recoil at the thought giving their life so that me, a normal girl in Tennessee, can have the choice to get an education, choose a job of my suiting, marry (or not-marry) the person of my choice. Wear clothing of my choice. Drive a car. I can succeed, fail, try hard, win big and not fear speaking up about what I believe.

And I am forever indebted. But I realized that I take this sacrifice for granted, every day.

Over 600,000 people have died in the line of service in the last 100 years, defending my country.

Over 1,100,000 since the inception of America.

Yesterday, back in my hometown, Pastor Reser showed a few clips from the amazing film Saving Private Ryan in the service. If you haven’t seen it, go on Netflix and watch it now. You won’t regret it.

But I keep going back to the line, said by Tom Hanks’ character (John something?), after finding and rescuing Private Ryan from battle in France. His dying words to young Ryan simply said “Earn This”.

And somehow I don’t know if I have. I’ve done my best to love my country, but how does one do that? I hope I defend her when friends who really haven’t traveled complain about our country. Of course she has her faults, but I know that my country is one that I can be proud of. And maybe over the past few weeks of flooding in Nashville I just feel more of a sense of community- that I live where people put other people first. That we have government groups that help those in need. That we are encouraged to create businesses and non-profits that can help the economy and help build revenues to support programs of our choosing.

What can I do to earn the deaths of 1,100,000 people?

I think just by enjoying each day. By helping someone in need. By remembering that I use more water in 1 shower than the majority of the world uses in a day. By recycling. Planting some flowers or picking up trash. By going to support a great Thai food at a restaurant started by immigrants who came to this country to start a new life. Using my freedom of career to create or support something that will make a positive change in the world.

And maybe It just means thanking the soldier in the airport for his choice to defend my rights as a woman to have a career and an education. That I don’t have to fear walking outside alone at the risk of being raped or beaten by rebels who see women as property, not people.

“Earn this” he said to the Private. I hope that I can remember that my thoughts and attitude need to be in thanksgiving to so many who gave so much. Thank you to all who have served and who are serving in the military. You are appreciated, and today, on Memorial day – we salute you.

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay done his life for his friends.” – Jesus (John 15:13)

Good Saturday Sabbath

Good Friday…so little to say is good about it.  Hope is gone.  A friend and savior has died.  There was a terrible storm, and something happened to the curtain in the temple.

And it says in Luke that Joseph of Arimathea – a rich follower of Jesus – went to Pilate and asked to give Jesus a proper resting place.  He, Nicodemus and the women, including Mary and Martha, gathered the body and with the military guards buried Jesus in the tomb, and then they all went to their homes.

Continuing on Mary and Martha…Luke 23:56 “Then they went home and prepared spices ad perfumes.  But they rested on the Sabbath in obedience to the commandment.” (TNIV)  The Message Bible says “Then they went back to prepare burial spices and perfumes.  They rested quietly on the Sabbath as commanded.”

Quietly?

I realize this is a different time and a different culture, but it’s hard for me to wrap my head around the discipline that states that even though your future is suddenly in turmoil, all that you thought was true might not be as you believed, this personal – spiritual – political power that you had dedicated your heart to has suddenly been taken away.  You were along to watch as the body was placed in the tomb, the stone rolled in front of the doorway, and the guards were standing in their formation.   Even though all of this just occurred…

For the next 30 hours, you are commanded to be quiet – Sabbath.

Though the world is in upheaval – Sabbath.

Though you may not have prepared food for the day, as the day was spent burying your friend – Sabbath.

Though you want to scream and hit something – Sabbath.

I like to think I’m a modern woman.  And thanks to some circumstances, I do have to be in control of my own life.  I have to own my issues, my faults.  I don’t have a partner in this whole thing.  So when my world falls apart, I have had to become wired to learn to fix it.  To take matters into my own hands.  To stay up all night working and striving and re-planning my next steps.  I also get off on endorphins, so when the world starts caving in, I go for a jog, or to the gym, or I kick the crap out of a pillow.

But no.  Sabbath.  It’s not about you.  When the world is caving in and it looks as if all you strived for, all you believed in, all you needed is gone.  Sabbath.

When I want to scream, “it’s not fair” or “this isn’t what I signed up for” or “what the hell was that all about.”  Sabbath.

When I most feel compelled to let my adrenaline kick in and go take on the world Braveheart (or I guess more Joan of Arc) style.  Sabbath.

This concept is so foreign to me. The essential of quiet, of realizing that I’m not in control.  It’s so against my American mindset.  All my friends know that for me to disconnect from my MacBook, Blackberry and iPod is virtually impossible.  I use the excuse that I’m self-employed and need to stay connected.  But if I truly believe that God is in control and I need to listen and trust and hear his heart, then I have to Sabbath.

If I don’t turn off the noise, how am I supposed to hear?

What did the women do on this particular Sabbath?  Sit in stunned silence?  Pray?  Sleep?  Listen to their heartbeat as the seconds turn into minutes and a day feels like eternity?  I would think they might have hoped that Sabbath would last forever so they wouldn’t have to face the unknown days to come.

But if I listen hard enough on the Sabbath for a still small voice to lead me, I think it would take me on Sunday at daybreak to see an empty tomb and hope rising again.  And I did nothing to earn this hope, I just had to believe his path is true.

Shabbat Shalom.

Valentine’s Day

Aah.  Tomorrow is Valentines Day.  Or to me, it’s simply called “Sunday.”

Wikipedia talks of 3 saints named Valentine.  All were martyrs.  Valentine of Terni was martyred on February 14.  Little else is know about any of these men.

What else happened on February 14?  Oh yes, a massacre in Chicago among the rival mafias.  But I digress.

Over the past few days, on every talk and morning show, there has been much chatter about how to make your Valentine happy, how to now screw up gift giving, warnings to men about making their dinner reservation (and babysitter reservations!) early, etc.

The greeting card association estimates a billion Valentine cards are sent each year.

And they follow that 85% of all Valentines are purchased by women.  Hum.

73% of Valentines Day flowers are bought by men.

15% of all flowers sent on Valentines Day are by women, to themselves.  (antivday.com)

Maybe I’m glad I don’t have to worry about that.  I’d rather celebrate the love that I probably don’t give enough credit every day, to people I see every day.  And who know that dark chocolate and flowers need to be a part of every day life.

Happy Valentines Day to my amazing community of beautiful, strong, successful, funny, wise women who I walk through life with.  Maybe some day, some sexy, strong, successful, funny, wise men will realize that they have been missing.

Happy Valentines Day to my family, who I love deeply.

And Happy Valentines day to you who are reading this.

Now I’m off to a wine, chocolate and cheese tasting with some of the lovely ladies mentioned above….  We’ve got making the most of this single thing down. We’ll raise a glass for you too – especially if you don’t have a valentine of your own.  Happy Sunday everyone!

Happy Thanksgiving…

It’s Thanksgiving morning, and the house is quiet other than the low murmur of the parade pre-show coming from the living room.  Al Roker is wearing a hat that is shaped like a turkey.  Today’s craze and tomorrow’s one-hit wonder is preparing for her 15 minutes of fame. This cup of coffee is a new roast and the taste is sweet, which might be part of what has lead to this blog.

Today feels sweet.  I woke up a bit overwhelmed by the good of the little things.  Great coffee.  A warm bed.  A fun car that runs despite a strange noise.  A roof over my head and food in my freezer.  Smashbox eye shadow.  Too many pairs of shoes.

But quickly I remembered the best things in life aren’t things.

My parents, who are staying down the road, are happy and healthy and have been enjoying Nashville for a few days.  Lunch today is with Betty and Lynette and Therese, three women I am honored to walk beside in life. A multitude of friends and neighbors, are blurring the lines between friends and family.  They fill my need for quality time, and entertain my ridiculous love for excessive amounts of coffee and conversation.

And I am thankful.

But the flip side of the day seems to be that those words – Thanks.  Giving.  Give thanks.  Be thankful.  Give.  Are actions.  It’s not just enough to lay in my bed and breathe in this feeling.  The name of the day requires that thankful-ness has movement attached.  To give, and to give thanks.

So this week, I’ve been trying to make a decision on what I need to do for Advent…and maybe that’s it – maybe it’s not giving up anything.  For this lesser lent, maybe it’s about extending Thanksgiving to Christmas.  Making sure I’m giving thanks over the next month.  Giving love. Giving respect.  Giving sacrificially.

Just a thought.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone….