As my family and I saw the coverage of the Jaycee Lee Dugard kidnapping this past week, the question that we kept asking each other was, "How"?" How did these monsters get away with keeping a young woman and eventually her two children in their backyard for 18 years? How did they slip under the radar, free to rape and abuse their victims? The perpetrators had neighbors, close neighbors. They were not living on a compound in the middle of a prairie or on a remote mountain. They were literally surrounded by people who could have sounded a warning. People who in some instances, saw and heard things that were unusual and downright troubling. A couple of people tried to do the right thing, but their efforts fell flat. So, they stopped trying. Many people in the neighborhood knew of Phillip Garrido's sex offender status, but still grudgingly accepted his presence and chose to ignore the odd things that they saw and heard. They felt that it was none of their business, they just left him alone. Because, of course, the neighbors would appreciate the same freedom. They wouldn't want anyone questioning their peculiarities, right? Problem: they were not keeping a sex slave and her two children in their back junk yard like dogs. Decent people deserve to walk in freedom, predators do not.
What makes some people ignore the little voice that whispers that something is not right? How do they still that voice that urges them to take a closer look? Are they afraid, too self-involved or just completely clueless?
"Evil flourishes when good men do nothing." This is a quote from Edmund Burke and it sums up my feelings about this matter. Evil is present in our world, whether or not we choose to acknowledge it's existence. If it is given free reign, it will gain more and more ground. By our inaction, we are contributing to it's growth and dominance. If we ignore opportunities to beat back the darkness, we may not feel the consequences, but someone else will. And then we have to look at ourselves and ask, "How? How was I so stupid, lazy, timid, unconcerned, etc. to care? How has our society become so blind that fathomless evil has been able to exist right under our very noses?"
One of the hardest things that I have ever had to do is to stand up and speak out when everyone else was being silent. Harder still is maintaining the warning when people choose not to listen. But we must speak. Or one day that little voice inside of us may begin to ask a very tormenting question, "How can you live with what you didn't do?"
Monday, August 31, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Treasures
It's raining tonight, not a soft, soothing rain, but the kind of rain that soaks you to the skin in 3 seconds. Luckily, I am indoors listening to thunder rattle the windows and watching lightning crackle across the dark sky. And I am feeling a little melancholy this evening. I'm sure that it's because this weekend, it will be one year since one of the loves of my heart left this world.
My grandma was a very simple, yet complex woman. When she died at 93, she had witnessed the world change very quickly in the span of her lifetime. How I loved to talk with her, asking her about her experiences, trying to gather as much as I could of her life to store away as priceless treasures. I can still hear her voice as she describes the little school she attended and the books that she read for her lessons. As she tells me of her elopement with my grandfather, I see the twinkle of young romance in her blue eyes. I can almost hear the cries of her four sons as they were born at home with only female relatives as her nurse. The hardships that she endured, the progress that she made, the joys and sorrows that she encountered were all met with a calm acceptance. Even after her beloved husband of 55 years died, she refused to just mark time until she could join him. She was interested in everything and she was herself, interesting.
As I sit here with the rain now quietly falling outside my window, I wonder what my future granddaughter will one day say about me. Will she, as I when I think of my grandma, find herself smiling? Will she be inspired by my strength and warmed by my gentleness? Will she be amazed that I met hard times with grace and honor? Will she remember the times that she heard me praying for her by name? Will I be able to pass along the legacy that my grandmother gave to me?
Tonight, I am looking at my treasures and I am the richest woman that I know.
My grandma was a very simple, yet complex woman. When she died at 93, she had witnessed the world change very quickly in the span of her lifetime. How I loved to talk with her, asking her about her experiences, trying to gather as much as I could of her life to store away as priceless treasures. I can still hear her voice as she describes the little school she attended and the books that she read for her lessons. As she tells me of her elopement with my grandfather, I see the twinkle of young romance in her blue eyes. I can almost hear the cries of her four sons as they were born at home with only female relatives as her nurse. The hardships that she endured, the progress that she made, the joys and sorrows that she encountered were all met with a calm acceptance. Even after her beloved husband of 55 years died, she refused to just mark time until she could join him. She was interested in everything and she was herself, interesting.
As I sit here with the rain now quietly falling outside my window, I wonder what my future granddaughter will one day say about me. Will she, as I when I think of my grandma, find herself smiling? Will she be inspired by my strength and warmed by my gentleness? Will she be amazed that I met hard times with grace and honor? Will she remember the times that she heard me praying for her by name? Will I be able to pass along the legacy that my grandmother gave to me?
Tonight, I am looking at my treasures and I am the richest woman that I know.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
THIS is a Diamond?
Sometimes the boundless worth of a woman is not immediately apparent. Usually it’s not apparent to those who measure a person’s value by a set of criteria based solely upon the exterior. And I’m not just talking about looks, we can be judged by what we drive, where we live and how we make our money. Everything from what kind of purse we carry (not a designer? Gasp!) to if and where we attended college can help others to decide whether we measure up to a certain standard. Sometimes the external features of a woman’s life are less than impressive and if that’s as close as we look, we may find her unexceptional. But let’s consider what happens to a diamond in the rough in the hands of a master.
As a young man, my father had an interesting experience which I think illustrates my point. He was just out of the army and he had gone there right from his family farm. Needless to say, he had no experience with diamonds or jewels of any kind. The closest he got to stones of any worth was when he shoveled coal into the family stove. So one day, as he wandered along the street of a big city, he was a little puzzled by what he saw in the window of a jewelry store. A distinguished looking man sat at a table with some strange implements on them. He caught my father watching and he must have enjoyed having an audience because he began to put on a show. He carefully picked up a rock from the table and began to turn it over in his hands. The jeweler seemed to be considering his next move as he held it up to the light. My father wondered why a jeweler would have what looked to him to be a piece of coal in his store. Maybe it was just a really ugly stone! After a time, the jeweler seemed to make up his mind about his course of action. He put the rock on the table, picked up a small implement and wham! He broke the rock open. He did this again and again until at last he seemed satisfied. By this time, my dad had realized that this most certainly had to be a jewel of some sort since the jeweler was taking so much time cutting the stone. Next, the old man began to polish the stone. He worked and worked, until at last he held the stone up to the sunlight streaming in through the window. A ray of morning sun hit the stone, revealing a rainbow of color and fire. With a sense of wonder my father came to understand that the ugly rock was actually a diamond. He knew if he had come across this uncut diamond in his family coal bin that he would have put it in the stove, without ever knowing it’s value. He would have assumed that he knew exactly what it was, he would have known it’s worth. It took the keen eye and skillful hands of a master diamond cutter to bring out the beauty that was hidden under a plain and unremarkable exterior.
I know that this story is simplistic and I also know that it’s a little trite. I mean, don’t we all know that you should never judge a book by it’s cover, still waters run deep and beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Do we really “know” these truths or are they just familiar sayings? Why oh why, do we allow ourselves to be measured by someone else’s standards? And even worse, why do we agonize when we don’t pass the test?
During a dark period in my life in which I found myself frequently regretting how unsuccessful I was, I had a moment of revelation. As I was praying I was lamenting the “facts” that I was not this or that. I hadn’t accomplished anything on my 10 year, 5 year, 1 year or 1 month plan for success. I hadn’t even started my diet last Monday! I told God what a complete failure I was. I explained to Him that I was not a success. I waited for Him to tell me just how disappointed He was in me. Then, a kind, quiet voice said words to me that I have found hard to forget. “By what yardstick are you measuring success? Seek to please me. That is all that you need to do.” What a great sense of peace and relief I felt when I began to understand that our Creator looks beyond my less-than-perfect exterior and still sees a diamond. He desires to apply His expertise to my life and show me what is really important. He wants to make me shine for Him.
Bebe
As a young man, my father had an interesting experience which I think illustrates my point. He was just out of the army and he had gone there right from his family farm. Needless to say, he had no experience with diamonds or jewels of any kind. The closest he got to stones of any worth was when he shoveled coal into the family stove. So one day, as he wandered along the street of a big city, he was a little puzzled by what he saw in the window of a jewelry store. A distinguished looking man sat at a table with some strange implements on them. He caught my father watching and he must have enjoyed having an audience because he began to put on a show. He carefully picked up a rock from the table and began to turn it over in his hands. The jeweler seemed to be considering his next move as he held it up to the light. My father wondered why a jeweler would have what looked to him to be a piece of coal in his store. Maybe it was just a really ugly stone! After a time, the jeweler seemed to make up his mind about his course of action. He put the rock on the table, picked up a small implement and wham! He broke the rock open. He did this again and again until at last he seemed satisfied. By this time, my dad had realized that this most certainly had to be a jewel of some sort since the jeweler was taking so much time cutting the stone. Next, the old man began to polish the stone. He worked and worked, until at last he held the stone up to the sunlight streaming in through the window. A ray of morning sun hit the stone, revealing a rainbow of color and fire. With a sense of wonder my father came to understand that the ugly rock was actually a diamond. He knew if he had come across this uncut diamond in his family coal bin that he would have put it in the stove, without ever knowing it’s value. He would have assumed that he knew exactly what it was, he would have known it’s worth. It took the keen eye and skillful hands of a master diamond cutter to bring out the beauty that was hidden under a plain and unremarkable exterior.
I know that this story is simplistic and I also know that it’s a little trite. I mean, don’t we all know that you should never judge a book by it’s cover, still waters run deep and beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Do we really “know” these truths or are they just familiar sayings? Why oh why, do we allow ourselves to be measured by someone else’s standards? And even worse, why do we agonize when we don’t pass the test?
During a dark period in my life in which I found myself frequently regretting how unsuccessful I was, I had a moment of revelation. As I was praying I was lamenting the “facts” that I was not this or that. I hadn’t accomplished anything on my 10 year, 5 year, 1 year or 1 month plan for success. I hadn’t even started my diet last Monday! I told God what a complete failure I was. I explained to Him that I was not a success. I waited for Him to tell me just how disappointed He was in me. Then, a kind, quiet voice said words to me that I have found hard to forget. “By what yardstick are you measuring success? Seek to please me. That is all that you need to do.” What a great sense of peace and relief I felt when I began to understand that our Creator looks beyond my less-than-perfect exterior and still sees a diamond. He desires to apply His expertise to my life and show me what is really important. He wants to make me shine for Him.
Bebe
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