Tag Archives: freedom

IN THE MIDST OF BATTLE

Corruption, Truth, , , ,

Joshua M. Blahi is the man who was known as General Butt Naked during the Liberian Civil War which drew to a close in 1996. He always went into battle naked except for boots and weapons, hence his war name. I still find his story both troubling and perhaps redemptive.

Blahi’s crimes were heinous and revolting, including ritual sacrifice of young children and drinking of their blood and eating their hearts. Yet he claims to have been called by God while he was still in the midst of a battle. He says he immediately dropped his weapons and left the war entirely. After many weeks of fasting, prayer and counseling with a pastor he saw Jesus in vision and was told to repent and never return to his old ways. He says he knows he has been fully redeemed through faith in The Lord Jesus Christ. For awhile he lived in hiding in Ghana, but now preaches the Gospel in a church in Liberia. He was the only man involved in the Liberian Civil War who returned to the country and requested that he stand trial for his crimes, but there were no genocide laws at the time which he could be charged under.

After reading his story I felt compelled to write a poem about him, a poem that could just BE, with no judgment made. It was at first a very daunting and frustrating experience. My pitiful attempts at trying to describe what hand-to-hand combat might be like were stymied when the most beastly word I could think of was “snot.” I didn’t want to use profanity and yet I wanted to convey the idea of violence contrasted with the call to repentance and where the call might lead. It turned out to be both a physically and emotionally difficult task.

Blahi’s story is very controversial and he has many detractors who still feel he is “the most evil man in the world.” I do not know what crimes can be forgiven by God, but He is the only one who knows the hearts of men. Has He atoned for the General’s sins? I chose to write my poem as though I do believe, and yet questions remain. So here is my offering, I hope it causes thought on the possibilities of redemption for each human being.

THE GENERAL

Naked, plunging again into slaughter, aching
to inflict pain –
Furiously pounding pulse revels in screams
As legs push powerfully forward,
gasping effort of lungs, muscles and sinews
now wading – blindly – through sobbing moans, the
leaving life of others,
arms straining, stabbing, slashing;
– always forward through smoke and noise –
Drunken on blood, consumed hearts of
children form rivulets, greencongealing from mouth
and nose:

Insensate, lust of killing remains.

But now, suddenly – silence –
– – – choice – – –
between the familiar comforts of hell or
the rigors of Damascus –

Strange scene when God speaks, and
old ways cease.
Feet stop, filthy body slumps, sweating and spent –
Eyes see
(at last),
and back turns.

Who will believe this stranger in the land?

ONE LITTLE, TWO LITTLE, THREE LITTLE INDIANS

Education, Politics, Truth, Uncategorized, , , , ,

Harry Reid Feels Your Pain

Bonnie’s mother is Navaho (or Navajo, if you prefer). When she had to choose a tribe, Bonnie also chose to be Navaho, so when she had her second little Indian, a lovely girl with masses of black hair, she gave her the wonderful name Nizoni, pronounced ni-ZHON-ee, the Navaho word meaning Beautiful, and beautiful she is. Nizoni was born exactly one year and nine minutes after her older brother, Gavin, so they are real “Irish twins.” Or is that considered a racist term now? Their shared birthday parties are a juggling act, although as long as everything (including the chili) has chocolate in it, Nizoni is happy.

Bonnie’s father is one-half Hopi and a member of that tribe. At Gavin’s Hopi Hair Washing Ceremony, all his direct Hopi relatives (parents, aunts, uncles, etc.) washed his hair and gave him the Hopi name meaning Tadpole. Other members of the tribe are witnesses to the ceremony. At Nizoni’s Hair Washing, being a girl, she was named after the Kachina for cumulus clouds.

Bonnie’s father is also one-half Tewa. His father was the last full-blooded Tewa Indian in Bonnie’s family, and he was the first Indian Platoon leader in the US military. During the closing weeks of WWII, he and the members of his platoon parachuted behind enemy lines in the Phillipines and helped rescue a group of American POW’s who they knew were scheduled for execution by the Japanese within 24 hours. Bonnie’s grandfather was a great man and a great warrior.

When her third little Indian, Soren, was born, she gave him the middle name of Tewa, a lifetime remembrance of his heritage. He was named Little Corn at his Hopi Hair Washing. His mother thinks he’s pretty corny for sure when he’s hungry and yelling for food. He’s nine months old now and seriously considering walking. Since his eyes shine with mischief, Bonnie wonders how she’ll corral him when the time comes and if there’s any sleep in her future.

If you question Bonnie about her heritage she says she prefers to be called an Indian, with no hyphenated anything. That she is a patriotic American is a given. She wishes some Americans would just get over being so phony about their supposed sensitivities and if someone wants to call her a “Redskin”‘ hey, that’s fine with her. She’s proud to be an Indian and hopes the Redskins keep both their pride and their name.

Bonnie’s children belong to a mixed world, for you see she chose a (gasp!)
white guy for a husband. Alex’s roots in America go back only to the Mayflower, so he’s a newcomer to the land. Together Bonnie and her Alex are more concerned about the character, good behavior and toughness of their Three Little Indians than they are about any manufactured hurt feelings. They are, however, not above using Indian culture to make a point.

When Gavin started school this past autumn, he quietly folded his arms and bowed his head over his food at lunch. His teacher told him he was not allowed to do that. He was confused and upset when he told Bonnie and Alex about it because he had been taught at home to always bless his food. His parents very carefully considered their options and what they hoped to accomplish for their son. The next morning Bonnie went to the school and explained that in Hopi culture and tradition it is important to give thanks for the bounty of the earth. Caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place, the school, to be politically correct, bowed to Hopi, not Christian, tradition.

Harry Reid’s evil remarks are both demeaning and insulting to both sides of Bonnie and Alex’s family. Please Harry, everyone’s heard enough from you, just go away.

We are the blessed ones as the Three Little Indians invade our home every day. They giggle as they pull their Papa’s suspenders and kiss the bald spot on his head. He saves himself by bribing them with anything chocolate and calls them his “War Whoops.” The dog loves them with slavish devotion and makes certain they are safe in the yard. They love the dog and tolerate me as they kiss me and call me gramma.

Harry, not a single one of us needs anything from you.

THE CARE AND FEEDING OF GENIUS

Education, intelligence, Truth, Uncategorized, , , ,

CAN WE REALLY KNOW WHAT GENIUS IS?

In the late 1970’s Popular Science ran an article about The Next Decades Up- and-Coming Young Scientists, or something of that nature. At the time I was busily engaged in the trenches rearing three small children. Our eldest son had scored very high on an IQ test (I almost want to say here that he was “diagnosed” with a high IQ), which was no surprise, but it did increase our insecurities about how best to meet his needs.

The author of the article in question interviewed several of the men and women scientists who had been recommended for the magazine’s honor. Some of the questions asked and the answers were very illuminating.

When asked when they knew they were “smart”, over half said they had no idea until they took the SAT and/or entered college. They thought of themselves as “just one of the guys” until they went away from home. There were very few who said their parents told them or any of their siblings they were smart or praised them for it. Some of the respondents still sounded shocked that they were considered smarter than average.

When asked what they considered their biggest advantages in growing up,  the answers were almost all along the lines of:

My parents made me do my homework, and they checked it.

I had responsibilities at home, but learning was a priority.

My mother took me to the library at least once a week to get as many new books as I was allowed to borrow, and made certain I both read the books and took care of them. My parents questioned me about them.

Both of my parents were interested in what I was doing and what I thought. We ate dinner together and discussed everything under the sun.

All of the respondents said their strengths started with their parents and being taught to work.

The article also quoted one top scientist as saying, “You can learn anything in the world if you have an IQ of 120, anything above that number is just so much gravy.”

I’m still not convinced that we know enough about intelligence to “test” for it. What is considered intelligence in one culture may be totally irrelevant in another. Is a Polynesian explorer steering his canoe by his knowledge of the ocean and heavens any less intelligent than a book taught scholar at Cambridge? Would some of our present day educators have enough knowledge to survive if dropped into a wilderness? What kind of IQ would survival take?

So, does IQ matter? I read once that after Richard Feynman won the Nobel Prize in Physics, he and his wife visited his old high school where he asked to see his school records. Upon leaving he turned to his wife and said, “Winning the Nobel Prize didn’t seem like such a big deal, but now that I know my IQ it seems huge.”

I have watched the trap that parents of “smart” kids can fall into when they think that their child “has no peers”, as I heard one woman say. It’s an easy trap to be caught in. When our son skipped sixth grade and began Middle School he left his friends behind and felt lost without them. He came home one day and happily told me he had made a friend. Without thinking, I asked, “Is he smart?” My son, wiser than I, answered, “I don’t know, but he sure is nice.” I mended my ways.

Remember, we should be engaged in the business of rearing good people first, geniuses if we have to. Now that I have watched my children become adults and begin families of their own, I have learned a few lessons that, in the real world, seem important to me in growing those good people:

All children should be taught to work at a young age. They should also be given some moral and/or religious instruction.

All of your children, whether genius or not, will have different strengths and weaknesses. Other children are their peers.

All children will fail, and need to be told they failed. Their feelings will recover and their self respect will be strengthened when they master what they failed at.

Never be afraid to tell your children “NO”, and mean it.

Unless they are infants or ill, never clean up after your children. They need to clean up their own messes and mistakes.

All children should learn a skill or trade, but not all should go to college.

Your child may be a “late bloomer”, cut him or her some slack.

All children, no matter how “smart”, will have troubles and heartache. It’s called the human condition.

At some point, earlier than you might think, you lose the right to be your child’s boss. They’re on their own.

As long as your children know how to work and love God and learning, chances are, no matter what they do, they’ll be fine.

One more thing. If I were doing things all over again today, I would home school in a heart beat.

WE’RE ALL HOMOGENIZED NOW

Corruption, Politics, ,

NO CREAM WANTED

My father-in-law worked caring for hogs when he attended college at UCDavis for a degree in Animal Husbandry. He observed that the hogs he supplemented with cod liver oil were more healthy and sleek than those who were not given the supplement. He decided that if the oil was good for the hogs it was also good for him, so every day for the rest of his long, long life he took cod liver oil.

After graduating from college he returned to the family ranch in California’s Napa Valley and became a dairyman. After a few years he said he got tired of being “married” to the cows, moved into town and opened a creamery, buying milk from local sources. He agreed that pasteurization was necessary but felt that homogenization was a mistake. He said that drinking milk with different sizes and shapes of butterfat was much better for human consumption than that with uniform sizes. At the time we discussed this matter we had no idea that soon all fats would be declared harmful to human health. That is another pronouncement that medicine will soon regret.

Many people are now beginning to recognize that raw unhomogenized milk is much better for humans than what one can buy at the grocery store. Where you are allowed to buy raw milk is another matter. The full force of the almighty federal government has been sent out against one honest Amish farmer for his sale of raw milk. Big Brother always knows best so you and I no longer have choice in the matter.

If, in fact, Pop was right we should still be letting the cream rise to the top, skimming it off for other, perhaps better, purposes and using whole unhomogenized milk. Perhaps we would all be more healthy.

Homogenization within a society is another matter of great concern every citizen needs to seriously consider.

It hardly seems acceptable today to celebrate individualism. As much as we discuss “diversity” it seems some types of diversity are undesirable in our society and people who profess certain opinions are considered unworthy. Hasty prejudgements are made in political debate, and false witness is borne against leaders in opposing political parties. Only those with cast iron souls seem to survive the lies hurled at them. Science has been politicized to the end that few survive the lies and slurs made against their work and good names.

Maybe we all need a good dose of cod liver oil to make our bodies and minds clear and healthy, and none of us should desire the homogenization of our society. You might love NASCAR, I might prefer going to the opera, that is entirely up to us, and it is certainly not the business of anyone else to  make that decision for us.

We all have gifts and intelligence to offer as we pursue our God-given rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of OUR individual happiness.

LET THE CREAM RISE.

SERIOUS WAR

Biblical Wisdom, Politics, , ,

And there was war in Heaven. . . Revelations 12:7

When I was young and first heard about war in Heaven I tried to imagine what it was like. It seemed so exciting. Did Michael and his side win by throwing the largest lightning bolts, using the biggest swords, killing the most foes — but wait, we’re speaking of immortal beings here. They can’t be killed, can they? So just how IS a war fought in Heaven?

On earth war is bloody, grim, noisy, dirty and frightening. Terror and loss are always present. But Heaven? How could Heavenly Beings turn against their own?

Apparently there were those who thought they were smarter and better at determining the best interests of others and so decided to strike out against the Great God and all who sided with Him. That is the eternal war. There are always those who fight against agency and freedom and few who are willing to bear the burden of freedom. And there are also those willing to use that fear of freedom to seize control. The struggle between liberty and bondage, between darkness and light, has been the same from the beginning and will be to the end.

I have watched and considered the doings of nations, the history of brother against brother, and decided that the war in Heaven was one of IDEAS, of WORDS used to hurt and degrade, to lie and persuade, to promise safety. Even in Heaven as here in mortal existence, the war has been one of deceit and hatred in order to gain power and glory. Always power over others, to control and defeat them.

Watching the last political campaign, hearing the obvious lies and ignorance, the pandering to greed, the twisting of truth . . . and then, BINGO!, the answer to war in Heaven came! POLITICS! Politics were introduced into the Holy Realms and mankind became locked in the perpetual battle for their right to be free.

“I was never so free as when I was a prisoner.” I decided upon reading that statement by Alexander Solzhenitsyn that as choices narrow the final choice a man must make in order to remain human and free is to always be aware of righteousness and our individual responsibility to ACT well before God. To be willing to die if necessary to protect liberty.

I can’t remember who said it, but there was the thought that, “we often forget the essential humanness of God.” He does love His creatures and is very kind to those who love and serve Him. We are commanded to become as He is, completed and perfect. Hard, yes, but we are to do the best we can in the battle we face.

This is a very serious war for the souls of all men.