When does life begin?

I haven't blogged in a while, but I need an avenue for these passionate, perplexing thoughts to escape my brain. I could journal, but isn't that what a blog is? A journal of the thoughts and experiences of one in billions?

Readership is not my goal, just an opportunity to share the thoughts that get stuck in my head. Is this still my real life fairy tale. Absolutely (I have so much to catch up on), but every once in a while these are just ramblings from this redhead.

This week, Missouri and Alabama have passed Pro-Life bills known as "heart-beat" bills, restricting abortions after the appearance of a fetal heartbeat (around eight weeks into the pregnancy). My social media pages have exploded with posts of applause and anger, all from friends and acquaintances I respect.

As a preface to this post, I am unashamedly Pro-Life. I believe life begins at conception (fertilization of sperm and egg) and that all life--regardless of stage of life--ought to be protected.

the meme

One friend I respect, but disagree with on the issue of abortion, posted a meme that I have seen floating around the last few days.

I responded that I agreed that Pro-Life advocates ought to do whatever in their power to defend all life: including advocating for birth control and allowing LGBTQ+ families to adopt children, but I still do not agree with abortion of a human fetus outside miscarriage.

Am I wrong to share my beliefs with my friends and acquaintances? If advocates of anything keep their voices silent simply because someone with an opposing view will confront them, isn't the advocate seemingly supporting the opposition?

I'm tired of reading posts by progressives and conservatives that belittle those who think differently. Mocking the opposing view with names and cries of ignorance and proclamations hoping procreation isn't an option. How does belittling someone else advance your cause? Here's a hint, it doesn't.

My husband tells me not to respond to these posts. And I kind of regretted my comment the instant I posted. My friend answered tersely and several of her friends joined to tell me just how wrong I am and that my religion has blinded me (ie: you are ignorant and foolish because you don't agree with me). One even commented that it's obvious that my view is 100% based on religion because science proves when life begins.

So, filled with passion, a little bit of hurt and embarrassment, and the sass that comes with being a redhead, I opened a new tab and typed "When does life begin?" in the Google search bar.

The first response?

"The fifth grade textbook stated "Human life begins when the sperm cells of the father and the egg cells of the mother unite. This union is referred to as fertilization. For fertilization to take place and a baby to begin growing, the sperm cell must come in direct contact with the egg cell.'" (wikipedia)

Admittedly, as a teacher I tell my students that wikipedia is a launching point for other research, but I still felt this answered the challenge that "science proves when life begins." The reality is that scientists, both religious and non-religious, disagree with when life begins, which is why this topic is so controversial. Some scientists say fertilization/conception, others say life doesn't begin until the fetus has a heartbeat or a brain, still others claim an organism isn't living until it takes its first breath outside the womb.

Do I expect my friend or her friends to throw up their arms, gasp and say, "you're so right! I've been wrong all this time!" No, I don't. Just as it would be foolish of them to believe I would read their comments (omitting the unnecessary name calling) would make me immediately change my mind. But it does leave us both with something to think about.

Since then, several others have joined the conversation. Some politely and passionately advocating their position. Others mocking my religious views and bitterly faulting my view as outdated, misogynistic, and anti-woman. 

Do I regret my comment? Somewhat. If I had posted something on my personal page it would be different, encouraging friends of both sides to share their thoughts, but I stepped into an arena filled with opposing opinions to mine; I should have been more aware. I know that, now that I have chosen not to respond further, the others who partook in the conversation will say to themselves or others that they scared me off, or that I really was too foolish to defend myself. They will be the winner and I will be the loser.

If those comments are posted to the conversation, I know I will be hurt, but I don't believe I need to continue the conversation. Wisdom knows when to walk away.

Proverbs 26:4 says, "Do not answer [nor pretend to agree with the frivolous comments of] a [close-minded] fool according to his folly, otherwise you, even you, will be like him" (AMP). Don't misunderstand me, I am not calling these ladies fools: they all appeared to be educated on their stance. In a way, we all are foolish in that we are close-minded when considering our point of view on abortion. I do not agree with their position and believe it goes directly against God's directive of caring for the helpless.

Understanding that I have no desire to add further animosity to the thread or to pretend to agree with their comments, I determined to walk away.

I do believe in my privilege of sharing my point of view. However, in the future, I'll limit those comments to this blog, understanding that few, if any, readers follow along. If someone is reading this, please, feel free to comment, even if you disagree with my position.

we all want to be masters

ANNOUNCEMENT #1: I'm not teaching next year. 

*deep breath*

I know, I can't believe it either. But it's true. I'm not teaching next year. This decision was not made lightly. If you had stopped me in February and asked what I planned to be doing next year, my answer would have been adamant & disdainful: "Teaching English & drama at TCCS, of course." But by early March it was clear that the Lord was directing me to do one of the most terrifying things: give up my dream job.

Literature buffs would say, "The best laid plans of mice and men..." (thanks, Robert Burns).
Spiritual counselors would say, "Take no thought for tomorrow" (Matthew 5:34) and "God knows the plan He has for you to bring Him glory" (Jeremiah 29:11).

I think Jesus just smiled, wrapped me in His arms, and whispered, "Trust me. Take a leap of faith."

You want to know the most amazing thing about all of this? The incredible peace Christ has given. I never thought I would leave my school, but in the midst of March Madness I knew, I just knew that was what the Lord wanted. Have you ever had one of those moments? No real explanation, you just know.

Of course, now that I knew I wouldn't be teaching, I had to logically ask myself, "What's next?" Well, that leads to . . .

ANNOUNCEMENT #2: I'm getting my Master's. 

I've swayed back & forth on this decision over the last couple of years. Do I really need a Master's? What if I never get a job that 'uses' that degree? Is it worth the money? But Dad was my constant: you need your Master's. Now is the time. 

So I gave in. I mean, we all want to be masters, right? Besides, I do have this misty dream of teaching at the college level someday & I'll need, that's right, a Master's degree.

Details aren't completely hammered out but I have peace that

• obtaining a Master's is God's plan for me at this time. 
• I should be pursuing a degree in Communications. 
• I will not be teaching next year. 
• I am not being called to relocate. 

So, if you think about it, pray for me.

• Pray I find the right Master's program: affordability and 100% online.
• Pray I find a full-time job that will
• meet my financial needs.
• benefit whatever future career the Lord has for me.
• work with/pay for my Master's degree.
• provide opportunity for growth and evangelism.

Now that I've given you quite a bit to take in, I'll treat you with yet another exciting announcement later. After all, with the year closing and no job, I've got a little free time. 

this crazy thing called life

Wow. To say, "it's been a while" would be rather an understatement. Knowing that I have only a few readers (or none at all) let me do a quick summary of my life since the fall of 2013.

• January 2014--I directed my absolute favorite Shakespearean play, Twelfth Night. My students did a fabulous job performing. So proud of them. 
• March 2014--started writing my own theatrical adaptation to The Wizard of Oz called No Place Like Home. 
• May 2014--Senior Trip: Take 2! But really, I was the sponsor. Wonderful bonding moments at the Wilds, Cedar Point, & while touring Chicago. Maybe I'll treat you to a throwback post next month. 
• July 2, 2014--No Place Like Home script complete! Wow, I never thought I would be able to write my own script. 
• mid-July 2014--I trekked north to Maranatha to help direct the non-musical, The Somewhat True Tale of Robin Hood, for MBA's annual music & drama camp.
• August 2014--Began my 3rd year of teaching!
• December 2014--TCCS performed No Place Like Home  a play written, directed, & produced by me! So humbled that Jesus not only gave me an unimaginable dream, but also allowed me to see the project through to completion.

Of course many wonderful 'little' moments happened as well, but I suppose I'll save those for another time. Also, some pretty BIG things have happened in 2015, but those deserve posts of their own. Suffice it to say, I love this crazy thing we call life.

Be Inspired

As a language arts teacher I am constantly encouraging my students to look for inspiration in the world around them. Of course, my pubescent students generally respond to my enthusiastic encouragements with blank stares, but, nonetheless, I encourage them to be inspired.

So where does inspiration come from? As a lover of language and the arts, my immediate response is EVERYWHERE!

I remember

I will never forget 9-11-01.

My classmates & I began to wonder why the teachers left 40+ ornery 7th & 8th graders to themselves during the chapel hour. I was elected to head upstairs and find out what was going on. A quick glance into a few classrooms & the school office told me that I wouldn't find any of the teachers in their rooms. As I approached the choir room, I could hear the news running on the television. It was eerily quiet as one of the teachers said, "what do we tell our students?" As I peeked in the room I saw my administrator staring blankly at the large television on the rolling cart. My mother & one of the elementary teachers stood at his side. I was overwhelmed: what was going on? Why did the whole room feel so sombre? My mother & the others exited, nearly running me over. "Does Mr. Ahrens know the junior highers are by themselves downstairs?" Mom quicky filled me in as she & Mr. Ahrens escorted me downstairs.

America had been attacked.

I don't remember if they told us then or later. I do remember that the rest of the day was a blur.

I remember praying & watching the news. Each time the  planes hit & the Towers fell my stomach did flip-flops & my hear raced to my throat. I watched people run in terror as smoke filled the sky over & over agin. Never in my life have I been more terrified. Never in my life have I been more aware that God is in control and it is foolish to trust in the strength of man.

That night our church hosted a prayer vigil for those lost & missing. People from the community flooded the building--they saw the crosses rising above the interstate & came seeking answers & comfort. Strangers joined hands as people broke up in small groups to pray. We prayed for our nation; we prayed for our leaders; we prayed for the families; we prayed for the missing.

Today, I remember. 

Today, I remind.

Today, I pray that it doesn't take another act of terror to turn America's heart back to Christ.

His Eye Is on the Sparrow

Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God? 

But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 

Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows.

Luke 12:6-7

Tonight we celebrated my grandmother's life. 

My family arrived at the church in the early afternoon to set up flowers & other memories for those who would come to the memorial service. The small chapel had 116 empty chairs neatly arranged anticipating the friends & loved ones expected to attend. I stood in awe as people poured in the doors of the church & greeted my father & his family. 

The once empty chairs were filled with people sharing stories about Grandma Gina. In her nearly 75 years of life, my grandmother impacted so many people for Christ! The small room was quickly packed to overflowing: chairs were pulled from neighboring rooms and set up as the aisles continued to shrink. The murmur of 200 voices filled the room with words of comfort & delightful memories. Of course, more than a few kindly old ladies hugged us grandchildren and pinched our cheeks.

Then, the service began.

As a Christian, I have always wondered how the unsaved are able to bear the loss of a loved one. What hope do they have of seeing their loved one again? Even if one does not believe in an afterlife what hope of peace is there?

Grandmas service was filled with peace and rejoicing--a conundrum, I'm sure to those who are not believers. People stood up one after another to give a testimony of how Christ was magnified through Grandma's life. I am not a crier (although I find that tears more readily appear in my eyes than they have in years past) but my eye filled with tears as person after person--young and old, male and female, family and friends--gave testimony. Grandma would have been honored to know that the testimony she left behind pointed others to the Person of Christ.

With shaking, sweaty hands, tears in my eyes, and a lump in my throat I stood up to play one last song for Grandma Gina. The selection was an easy one: "His Eye Is on the Sparrow".

What better way to honor Grandma Gina than to play a song on my flute that was a comfort to her: God was always watching & caring for her. Not only was she aware of God's presence in her life, but she was also a living testimony of Christ's love for depraved man.

I can no longer hear her voice humming & singing hymns as she reupholsters furniture in her garage, but time & time again those songs flood my mind & we sing a duet in my head. Why do we sing? The song says it all: I sing because I'm happy; I sing because I'm free! His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.

Why should I be discouraged and why should the shadows fall?
Why should my heart be lonely and long for heaven and home?
When Jesus is my portion, my constant Friend is He,
His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.

I sing because I'm happy;
I sing because I'm free;
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know He watches me.

Let not your heart be troubled; these tender words I hear;
And resting on his goodness I lose my doubts and fears;
For by the path He leadeth but one step I may see;
His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.

Whenever I am tempted; whenever clouds arise;
When songs give place to sighing; when hope within me dies;
I draw the closer to Him; from care He sets me free;
His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.


fun run

You know those people who run for fun? Don't you think they're crazy?

Honestly, how can anyone consider running fun? A frantically pumping heart, a dry mouth, burning lungs, & numb legs sound more like torture to me. As if running weren't torture enough, there are people who pay to run. They pay: "here's my money, can I run in a circle with you? I get a t-shirt?! Totally worth it!" NO.

For the past several years I have openly mocked my friends who run for fun. What weirdos! I chuckled as they groaned & rubbed sore muscles after a 5K. I laughed at their mud-caked bodies & sore muscles after the Warrior Dash. I winced & shook my head when they ran a half-marathon. Okay, so running is their thing, but it's definitely not mine.

Then, one day it happened: I agreed to run a 5K.

Insane, I know, but there I was 6 weeks out &, admittedly, completely unfit. So I did what any intelligent college graduate would do: I set up a schedule to start running. Of course, initially I planned to run the 1.5 mile trek through my neighborhood 3 days a week, but that was swiftly shaved down to 2 days a week. And only if the weather was good. Remember, I'm not a runner. I resolved that I was running to stay healthy & to get to know my friend better . . . the fact that sweets would be waiting at the finish line was also a fantastic motivation.

December 15, I ran my first 5K: the Candy Cane Course. I met my goal of finishing under 33 minutes (32:48 to be precise) & celebrated my milestone with milk & cookies.

And then, somehow, I kept running. Not uber consistently, but at least 1-2 times a week as long as there was good weather. In fact, I even began checking the weather so I could run.

I became what I had mocked for so long: a runner.

I still can't say that I love running. In fact, during the entirety (32:39) of our first 5K for this year (the Sweetheart Shuffle--she chose me over her boyfriend!), my friend & I groaned, "why do we do this again?" Our answer? Time together, the crazy costumes, & the sweets. We're planning on completing all 6 races in the "Holiday Fun Run" series this year. Of course, we're also trying to convince a few more friends to join us. I can't wait to have spend some quality time with my friend as we run for our sweets.

Who knows, maybe by the end of it all I'll realize, like all the other crazies, that running is fun.