The place for things green in the City Beautiful
I just had a grapefruit. The saying goes: the devil is in the details, but I tell you, God is in the details. Fast food, processed food, is killing me. Every day, I need to eat lunch. Every day the fast food corporations try and provide that food — and they are killing us.
As ONE members, we care. We care about the child orphaned by HIV/AIDS. We care about the village that lacks access to clean water. And we care about the millions of people throughout the developing world who will go to bed hungry tonight. For many of us, that caring is borne of our faith.
We all have a finite ammount of purity—innocence lost. Every time we are intimate we give some away. Like the force George Lucas shows us in the Star Wars universe, our actions effect who we are. We do something good, we shift ever so slightly to the light. And the reverse is also true. Whether it is Anakin slaying a village of sand people or going too far on a first date, our actions have consequences.
Another Thanksgiving holiday passes us by and I’m reminded by just how much we have to be thankful for. So much earth-shaking, world-changing events have transpired, just in the last year. It’s often hard to take it all in–and still care. Yet amongst all this, that’s exactly what we have to do, to keep being the people we are.
I can’t take my eyes off of the television and the deteriorating war zone that is New Orleans, La., and coastal Mississippi. The sheer human suffering. The hopelessness. The desperation. And I can’t believe it’s our own country. It looks like the places far away, the towns and villages and countries to which we send our aid. And yet it’s not. It’s us. It’s our people. It’s our citizens, our brothers and sisters. They are Americans. They are hurting. They are completely divorced from anything resembling quality of life.
Media coverage of Katrina and her aftermath is simply beyond my ability to comprehend. We see image upon image of destruction on a scale I could not have imagined. Our thoughts and prayers, indeed the nations, rests upon all the people of the Gulf region.
Recently, a few weeks after my father Frank’s passing, I spent time with my mother Flora going through some of his things. He didn’t leave much behind, being a simple man with simple tastes. There were a few clothes; some medals from World War II; a few service pins; several books; a 1980 appointment calendar in which he had scribbled dozens of motivational sayings; and a strange piece of metal we found lying in a drawer.
My mom gasped when she picked up the metal bar, thick and laden with screws. “Look at this,” she said. “What is it?” I inquired.
I recently received an email. In it was a petition, written to President Bush, calling for the reinstatement of prayer in schools. With 1557 names on it, it asked users to forward it on when it reached 2000, something that I’m sure happened soon and was diligently delivered. But I’m afraid that the good intentions of the originator is misplaced.
I’ve just returned home from being engulfed by the dark cinematic masterpiece that is Star Wars, Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. It has much to teach the observant eye—those who are “mindful of their feelingsâ€â€”about the ongoing wrestling match between human passion and spiritual abandonment.
A recent message circulated throughout the internet shows us, “A Sign From God After a Florida Hurricane”. Now normally my spam filter would keep me from ever seeing this, but for some reason, this one caught my eye.
May 5th, 2005 is the National Day of Prayer. Connect locally and be a part of this awesome event.
With eyes red and tears flowing from Jake’s mom she blurted, “Thank you so much Jason! My son is just not the same. The other night my ex-husband and I were violently screaming at each other. Jake, would normally begin physically fighting with my ex, instead jumped between us and told me that we just can’t go that route anymore”.