The Price of Grumbling

The Price of Grumbling

 

she resisted grumblingWhen I was young, my sister and I used to play “Anne Frank.” We created a trapdoor that led to the third level of our house on Kenwood Avenue. We’d creep down to the kitchen for food and supplies—Cheerios, raisins, water, Band-Aids, flashlights, books, paper and pencils—hauling it all up to our Secret Annex. When others could be heard in the house, we remained absolutely silent, quieting our dolls if they cried. We never touched the curtains of the two small windows up there. It was a rule, especially when any German sirens sounded.

Anne Frank was a young Jewish girl living with her family in Amsterdam when Nazis seized the Netherlands. Within two years the persecution of Jews escalated. Her family and four others went into hiding, living in a makeshift area of her father’s office building. The “Secret Annex” was only 75 square meters of space for eight people. Employees and friends provided food and information. There, they hid in silence, never going outside for two years.Continue reading

Fresh Words

Fresh Words

Last night I spent some time watching various news channels and came to realize how two vastly different realities were being presented. Not just angles or bias or spin, but diametrically opposed worldviews. Yet this is not really news, especially after such a slugfest campaign year.

hostile words turn violentStill it felt distressing—hateful words, violent outbursts, spreading strife, and misrepresenting facts. It creates angst…the way a child might feel when parents continually yell at each other without any resolution. Honest discourse and debate seem like a thing of the past.

My stomach churned.

So I took it to my Father. “God, I need to know what You think.” And in a matter of moments, He gave me three words.Continue reading

The One True Thing

The One True Thing

True worth isn't a black dressI pulled out a celebrity-gossip magazine that happened to be in my seat pocket on a flight to Denver. You know the type: oh-my-gosh, The Perfect Little Black Dress of the Season—or—Three Ways Your Partner Might Be Cheating! These kinds of articles are the taunt of today’s Western culture.

By the time the plane landed, I was made to feel thoroughly undersexed, unsophisticated, and deserving of costly beauty products. The true underlying message? —If you aren’t really working on being one of the beautiful people, you’ll end up alone.

True beauty isn't found in cosmeticsModern culture promises us the moon with superlatives: perfect skin in three applications or idyllic sleep with the right kind of mattress. We hope to find ecstasy in a perfume, identity in an expensive car, and attitude in owning the latest gadget. These things make us feel more attractive, momentarily. We turn a head or two.

But attention doesn’t satisfy, because it only parades as love. Many sacred hours are wasted with this kind of distraction. It’s a pretext, a facade, masking our fundamental need for relationship.Continue reading