Remove the veil

My heart is heavy with sadness as I attempt to read the descriptions of the children and adults that were murdered this week. I find that my body is backing away from the page, as if the distance created would somehow help me to gain a sliver of detachment from the reality. My thoughts become as the skimmed page of a book I just cannot bear to read fully.

    ...Evil
         ...Those sweet little kids
   ... innocence lost
         ...terrorists among us
    ...Oh no, this child already experienced the weight of his parents' divorce and now
        ... blood
   ... huddled in a closet
         ...his mother. His mother. HIS mother. His MOTHER
   ...Oh dear Lord, how
        ... forgiveness
   ...Why do reporters insist on interviewing the grieving?
         ...how will they
   ...The sheer numbers of people personally affected by this horror
        ...pure evil
   ...If there is a face of Satan, this is it

And suddenly my thoughts gain clarity. In my deep heartache, words of truth illuminate my mind and my heart begins to lighten ...
  
       oh, he is on the prowl ...
  But God has won the victory
        and one day we will be reunited!

And there will be no tears, no sorrows, no pain and no suffering. Every tear will be wiped away, and there will be      rejoicing ... and mourning will flee!
 
But we are here; the pain is here. Even though I can't seem to allow myself to rest on any one of my fractured thoughts for longer than a second, I am suddenly taken in by an image of absolute sweetness. Her eyes emanate a surety, a peace, a kind of frank acceptance, and I dwell on the question of what she saw. What she heard. How one so sweet, so innocent, so pure, could be murdered in cold blood. And I grieve. I grieve for her, for her family, for her classmates, for their families, for the teachers, staff, all the other students, especially the other students.

What a tremendous loss to all of us, these lives. Our hearts are heavy.

Come Lord, come to save us! You who are the King, who came to earth as a little babe. You who took on the flesh of mortals, who bore pain, suffering, ridicule and rejection.  You who were afflicted with every temptation, yet did not sin. You who died for us. You who rose for us. And you who are coming back for us! Remove the veil of our hearts, O Lord, and Come Lord, come to save us!

Fear Not!

I am caught up as in another dimension when thinking about how each baby, hidden within the cradle of the womb is so pure, so beautiful, so utterly valuable. How each little precious one is made in the image of the Creator, and how when a mother chooses to abort, we are all cheated. This baby, this little person, bore the very image of God in a way that no one else ever will; and it is He who is stolen from us.

I hear people talk about how the babies lost through abortion could have been our future president, or a famous scientist that would discover the cure for some disease, or a great philanthropist or humanitarian, a Nobel peace prize recipient, or even a future Pope! But more profound than any of those possibilities, is that now we will never see that particular facet of God. For we are each made in the Image and Likeness of our Creator, and each of us bears His resemblance in a way that no one else ever will. And so, we are all cheated.

How is it that we have come to believe that this little one is now subject to another's decision on whether life should even be granted? I think all of this is on my mind today especially, because I woke at 5 AM on Wednesday morning, November 7th, looked at my phone, saw that our country had re-elected President Obama, and just prayed. I didn't listen to the news for the rest of the day, because I wanted to hear the still small voice that I have come to love, and didn't want it drowned out. What I heard, loud and clear, was: "Be Not Afraid: I Have Overcome the World." I am not trying to make a political point here. What I am saying is that I believe that President Obama does not seem to value life in the way that I think God wants us to, and has been quite clear about his intent to legalize abortion, mandatory contraception, and the like, and that causes me great concern. 

I think we are desperate to be known, to be loved, to be accepted for who we are. To be welcomed, respected, cared for and appreciated.  It seems to me that for some of these very reasons, women are afraid to bring a child into the world. The sacrifice to their social lives, their careers, their plans, their sense of "belonging" in this world looms large and their judgment is suddenly and significantly compromised. Fear has entered, and fear knows no bounds. Fear can deceive, can blind, can confuse. Fear can motivate, empower, and enrage. Fear can cause us to feel that we are not ourselves, Fear can manipulate our minds into rationalizations that we would have never thought possible for us, and convince us to make choices we would usually never make. 

Let's not let fear be our dictator! Let's take courage! Let's respect, care for, accept, love, and welcome this little one. Let's find ways to help moms to choose life. To support them, love them, care for them, respect them. And let's never forget the beauty of the absolute crown of veiled magnificence, the little babe, snuggled in the cradle of the womb. 

Onward I tread

I haven't been out of the country, nor have I been lost at sea. Why I have not posted in two years could continue to escape me, but if I think about it for all of a minute or so, I could tell you why. 


It is hard for me to write. It is hard to put on paper (or screen) what I am feeling or thinking because it becomes so... so... p-e-r-m-a-n-e-n-t. Oh, I know that my writing could be altered. It could be changed, it could be adapted, it could even be stolen. But there is something about committing one's thoughts and feelings to paper that makes them more defined, and makes me feel more vulnerable. 


I titled my blog "Veiled Magnificence" and had a lot of excitement and expectation that I would write very often, and that I would be able to find the magnificence in daily life with hardly any effort, and that I would share very deep, wise, and sublime insights with any readers that happened to cross the path of my blog. I think that the more that I focused on trying to meet that expectation of myself, the less I found to write about.

Some days I could not find magnificence -- veiled or otherwise. I didn't want to write on those days, because I felt that if that were the case, then something was wrong with my perspective, and I should make sure that gets corrected before trying to post something .... hmmm ... I don't think that any longer! 
It's mind boggling in some ways that two years, almost to the day, have passed since I last wrote. My last entry was about my daughter Bernadette's graduation from GVSU. Since then, a lot has happened! I would like to try to recount some of the highlights and lowlights, so will work toward that goal. 


Should you happen upon this entry, thank you for reading, and for being patient as I stumble along!