In the presence of mine enemies

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I linger over little bits of cake. My gentile version of honey cake, my American girl version of lebkuchen, all thanks to Peg + Cat.

The honey on the cake reminds me of John the Baptist’s least emulated diet ever.

I think of him scooping honey from the hives of desert bees, dipping his locusts in the honey. Wild food for a wild man? Or deliberate food for a grave robber? Was he eating that way as an afterthought or a prophesy?

At table with our enemies.

I don’t know when I began to identify the enemy of Psalm 23 as death and his minions–sickness, pain, grief, and loss, but I do.

These are our true enemies. And the answer, the only answer I have when the pain of this world’s griefs become unthinkable is to look at Jesus at the head of this table and know that he owns the meal: bugs and honey and all.

Wherefore Art Thou Wendy Davis?

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After reading the usual raft of data on Ms. Davis’ confusion on the details of her own life story I went to the great oracle: Wikipedia.

An interesting read.

Back when she was fighting tooth-and-designer-trainers for Texas gals’ rights to terminate late-term babies Ms. Davis grabbed the podium with this narrative:

single mom
Shoe-string Harvard grad
Teen divorcee.

Turns out none of that is true.

She divorced her first husband when she was 21.

Her second husband funded her education and went into debt to send her to school.

He also picked up the slack on caring for the kids.

So much so that when they divorced he got full custody and she paid child support.

Wendy Davis–bringing new meaning to that old Texas assessment:

All hat, no cattle

…but those running shoes are spiffy.

Please, Wendy, do Texas a favor and run somewhere else.

The Safety Protocol

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Before I thought these rules were enough:

Let your children know they can talk to you about anything.

Educate them about sex.

Tell them they will never get in trouble for telling the truth.

Tell them if someone tells them a “secret” then tells them they can’t tell their parents that is precisely the secret they should tell as soon as possible.

Never leave them with someone you don’t trust.

If they can talk, they will tell you if something happens…

Now I know these rules were woefully inadequate. Abusers, predators, capitalize on the innocence of children at all cost.

New rule (an addendum): never leave your child alone with someone you do not trust completely.

Narrows the field considerably.

Brain Dead vs. Coma

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I guess, when it comes down to it, this is personal.

When I was researching this post three things coalesced for me:

I am a survivor of traumatic brain injury

My father did not survive his traumatic brain injury.

And this is a sensitive area where medicine becomes highly politicized and where the heart of the issue is money.

When I was in a medically-Induced coma as a child my parents were cautioned against my survival. They were told I would have brain damage, symptoms of psychiatric disorders, be a vegetable if I survived.

So when I did survive it was treated as a miracle.

I still consider it a miracle.

What if the hospital’s grim warning had spooked my parents? What if they did not want to be saddled with a messed -up, cognitively impaired vegetable?

What if they did not want to pay the bill for my care?

Fast forward years later:

My father’s life hangs in the balance after a helicopter crash. His surgeon does all he can to save him. Within two days my father’s life is gone.

I needed to know they did everything they could to save him.

Because the grief that came after was so eviscerating.

The truth is that the scales and diagnostics used to separate one brain injury victim from another are highly subjective.

In one case a family takes extraordinary efforts to preserve life.

In other cases the extraordinary efforts are fought to extinguish, not preserve life.

At what cost to the soul?

Not Exactly Standing for Texas Women

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Imagine your daughter was on life support. Imagine she was pregnant with your grandchild. Imagine the story of how she sustained her injuries was unsubstantiated and raised serious questions.

Would you want her to live? Would you pray for a miracle? Would you fight to save your child and your grandchild?

Would you want the law to protect them?

You might. I would. Ms. Machado and NARAL would not.

They want both the mother and unborn child to be denied the chance for life and the crucial protection of the law.

Neither of these patients had DNR orders. There is no written record to suggest Ms. Munoz wanted her life terminated, much less the life of her unborn child. The surviving family insist they are sure Ms. Munoz would want to die.

Her family is fighting to have her life extinguished. The only protection she has is the law of the state of Texas.

No thanks to Planned Parenthood, NARAL, and Wendy Davis.

Are You a “Good Samaritan”?

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I don’t enjoy planks, but I do them anyway–because I am middle-aged and I need them.

They are so unpleasant that they always remind me of Jesus on the Cross all those merciless hours.

An eternity, really.

But today I was reminded of Byreon Hunter as well. What I wrote about him before seemed too insignificant to the task of grief for such a sweet little peanut.

His story seems to mirror the story of the victim in the parable of the good Samaritan.

Idolatrous culture, outcast guy, acts suspiciously like the peerless Storyteller.

We forget that to his listeners there was no such thing as a “good” Samaritan.

I personally think he was quite real. Which means so was the brutalized victim.

Make no mistake: no human punishment can ever atone or pay for doing that to a child. Ever.

But Jesus took every blow, every wound, all the pain.

He pays the whole price for our brutal rebellion, knowing we are all Samaritans without him.

To be a good Samaritan? That takes Jesus.

And the planks, those God-forsaken miserable planks…on the cross

For us.

Byreon Hunter

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Little Byreon Hunter was an abuse and murder victim before anyone began to look for him.

The details of his abuse, torture, and slow agonizing death are more than any of us want to face.

But face them we must. Humans, parents, bad boyfriends do unspeakable things in our midst.

This is America. And if we don’t like what happened to Byreon Hunter then we must insist that his murderers face the full force of the law.

Knowing, as we do, even that would not be enough.