sitting on history’s past and present

Success is not final, failure is not fatal:
it is the courage to continue that counts.
Winston Churchill

(A German band marches through St Peter Port High Street, Guernsey. The island was occupied between June 1940 and May 1945)

Guernsey is a small island located in the southern reaches of the British Channel.
It is located closer to France than England and yet it is a British Island.

During the war, it was occupied by German forces for 5 long years.

I never knew that.

This afternoon, I’ve just gotten in from having gone to the movies…
I can’t tell you the last time I went to the movies…
I don’t think we had cell phones during my last movie outing…that’s how long its been.

And so obviously it had to be something really pretty big to get me back…

And yes, it was.

It was the movie I’d written about several weeks ago…The Darkest Hour.

There we sat in the vast theater with only a handful of other moviegoers on this grey,
dreary and most soggy Georgia day.
We sat poised to watch a film that we actually possessed hindsight over…
in that, we knew how it turned out…
In that, we knew, otherwise currently know, is that the good guys in the end actually win.

But here’s the thing, I don’t really think that those of us who sit on this side of history
can actually comprehend what it was like to sit on that side of history.

How can we?

There is a chasm, a divide that we cannot cross, cannot span…
we cannot live that which was their reality,
just as they could only imagine what would and could possibly be ours.

For them, imagining what our reality would be,
was not what our imagining of what their reality was.
They fretted for us…yet we on the other hand, just know of their eventual victory—
We don’t grasp the overwhelming magnitude of the weight they bore before that victory.

The black and white photographs, the written words, do not pass easily over the chasm of time,
as one might imagine, allowing us to share the adrenaline rush and stress-filled emotional
burdens suffered and bourn by those who went before…

The Darkest Hour did a commendable job offering those of us who possess the gift of
hindsight of that period of history’s successful ending…
offering us a ray of light shed upon the truly unbearable heaviness of the what was
the balance between life and death of Western Civilization.

Today, ‘that which was’ can look almost easy and nearly flawless.

Churchill bore a grave burden, a burden that the still motionless black and white
photographs often camouflage…
a burden of knowing what must be done versus the tightrope of the political dance.

We each owe him a debt of gratitude.

And yet during those dark days of that desperate time in humanity, there are many
souls to whom we today owe our deep gratitude…

Frank Falla is one such soul.

Mr. Falla was a journalist with the BBC who was arrested by the Nazis when they
discovered that he had been covertly sharing information of the German occupation
on his home island of Guernsey.

He was held in Naumburg Prison where he watched fellow prisoners die weekly from torture
and starvation.
A prison where he swapped his food rations for the stub of a pencil just to be able
to record the names of those who had suffered and died—
because he vowed that if he survived, he would not let those who died, do so in vain.

Following the war, Falla worked tirelessly to petition and then achieve
reparations for his reluctant fellow Guernsey prisoners as well as for the families
of those who did not survive.

Falla’s is the story of a quiet unsung hero, whose story has slowly come to light
on what is now a more national stage as his story is currently part of a new exhibition at
London’s Wiener Library–an exhibition about Guernsey’s own “gentle” journalist.

the following link is to the article about his story.

http://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-guernsey-42710086

desensitized

Depictions of violence often glamorize vicious behavior. They offend the Spirit and make you less able to respond to others in a sensitive, caring way. They contradict the Savior’s message of love for one another.
For the Strength of Youth

These data suggest very strongly that participating in the playing of violent video games by children and youth increase aggressive thought and behavior; increase antisocial behavior and delinquency; engender poor school performance; desensitize the game player to violence.
Leland Yee
former California Senator

Today the data linking violence in the media to violence in society are superior to those linking cancer and tobacco.
David Grossman
Israeli author

(gargoyle downspout Adare Manor / Adare, Coutny Limerick, Ireland / Julie Cook / 2015)

Desensitize–a transitive verb—meaning: to make emotionally insensitive or callous; specifically: to extinguish an emotional response (as of fear, anxiety, or guilt) to stimuli that formerly induced it

Two recent articles about children and young people have each catapulted the word desensitization and its meaning to the forefront of my radar leaving me greatly troubled.

As a retired educator articles which showcase the current and various growing concerns for and of our youth certainly catch my eye as I spent a lifetime living out those very concerns on a daily basis. As any educator will tell you, teachers not only “teach” they also nurture, mentor, direct, guide, care for, comfort, coach, discipline, lead, encourage, help…etc.

Teaching is not a one subject fits all sort of job.
In fact teaching is not a job at all but rather a vocation or a calling. You have to care about kids and their well being in order to want to teach. Those in it for either a paycheck or some sort of job security need look elsewhere.

As a veteran classroom teacher, who spent my entire career working at the high school level, I am very much aware of the often fragile and tenuous tightrope our adolescents walk in their daily lives.

Any parent and educator alike can tell you that raising and educating kids is no easy task especially given today’s growing technological pull and social media draw that is blanketing our youth.

The first story I read yesterday.
It was an article examining a link between the alarming rise of teenage suicide and that of social media usage.

http://www.foxnews.com/health/2016/02/11/is-social-media-fueling-national-epidemic-teen-suicide.html

I found the article both disturbing as well as telling— as I forwarded it to several teachers and counselors who are currently still working with various school systems.

It has often been noted that many in this generation of kids have a very difficult time actually talking to people. It is often observed that they do not make eye contact easily or readily nor are they capable of carrying on any sort of lengthy conversation with a free flowing dialog.

They can be in a room filled with their family or friends yet will be more engaged on their phones rather than those sitting by their side. They will actually opt to text a person in the very same room rather than ask a verbal question or make a verbal comment.

There is a frighting and rapidly growing disconnect between reality and virtual…with kids often preferring the virtual.
Maybe because its as if they feel they can control the virtual better than reality.

Yet the correlation between kids, their social media usage and an increase in the suicide rate is something that should have us all concerned…..

The second article, which includes a short video clip, I actually read today having spotted it on the BBC.
It was an interview conducted by a BBC reporter of two young Syrian boys aged 8 and 10.
The boys were only two out of hundreds who have been living in IS occupied areas of Syria.
Luckily for these two boys, they have made it out of Syria and hopefully out of harms way.

The interview begins with the 8 year old aptly demonstrating how to put on a sucicide vest with as much ease as he would have kicking a soccer ball.

He told the reporter how they had often witnessed beheadings. They would be called by loudspeaker to come witness what was taking place as IS members would behead, in the boy’s case, a neighbor.

It is reported that IS is actually rewritng the textbooks used in classrooms…changing dates as well as “current” geographical maps.

The children, yes young children, are put through a variety of physical military type training and obstacles courses while actually being shot at and yelled at as they maneuver the course.
Of which is probably the most disturbing clip in the video.

http://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-35552391

Between our own kids who are drowning in a sea of social media, violent video games and a huge Spiritual disconnect and then the children who fall under the harsh and brutal regimes of hate spreading their insidious indoctrination of hate and destruction all around the globe our future as a human race is looking neither hopeful nor promising…
We need, for their sake as well as our own, to take our children back….

All your children shall be taught by the LORD, and great shall be the peace of your children.
Isaiah 54:13

The only thing that matters

And somehow all that matters now is You are holy, holy
Lyrics from Holy sung by Nichole Nordeman

(a tiger swallowtail amongst the heather / Julie Cook / 2015)

Five weeks ago a phone call changed everything.
Just like that, life is different.
That’s usually how it all works. . .
A call,
a visit,
a move,
an accident,
an illness,
a beginning,
an ending. . .
then poof, everything that was, is now no more. . .

Today’s morning is the first morning that an opportunity presented itself for a small “work out.” Thoughts are lost in the music of prayer, as sweat and tears mingle down as one.
There is no longer an order or routine.
No evening out, no smooth path, no clear direction.

Tired muscles and lungs ache as a burdened heart slowly breaks.
The frustrations of a body’s betrayal, when time does not exist for such,
compound both day and night.
Calls, emails and texts dart in and out over the course of a day, a week, a month.
Each barrage enters with its own set of requests, demands or alerts.
Dread now slips in at the sound of a simple call.

Watching two individuals who are unhappy, confused, sad and depressed,
laboring to make sense of the day, the change, the sense of loss, is heart wrenching.
Sadness prevails in distant eyes.
Agitated, paranoid, fretful, threatening all collide into misery.
As the middle works at balancing life on two separate ends.

Racing to quench burning fires, while walking a tightrope.
You go this alone, because that’s all there is.
You miss those who are long gone.
There are no answers, no solutions, no words to make it all better.
Time becomes the enemy.

Overwhelming, exhausting, frustrating. . .
Consumed in the loneliness of one, the crushing knowledge of helplessness is suffocating.
Tears constantly perch just behind the eyes.
This was never how it was suppose to be.

But the question begs. . . when does life ever cooperate?

There is however one constant, one single factor, that does not vary or waiver.
It is the only thing which remains true.
It is what sustains the battered soul.
It is what propels the worn and tired body forward.
It is a knowledge so deep and entrenched that it is within one’s very breath.
Through all of the struggles and the heartache, it is the one remaining single truth to cling to and hold on to. . .
I am the Lord your God. . .and I am Holy

For this is what the high and exalted One says— he who lives forever, whose name is holy: “I live in a high and holy place, but also with the one who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite.
Isaiah 57:15

Balancing Act

“Your hand opens and closes, opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralysed. Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expanding, the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated as birds’ wings.”
― Rumi

Be not angry that you cannot make others as you wish them to be, since you cannot make yourself as you wish to be.”
― Thomas à Kempis

(a poor mallard duck who was trying to nap as I took his picture / San Antonio, Texas along the River Walk / Julie Cook / 2014)

Life is our tightrope and we spend a lifetime furiously trying to balance our footing.
Too much lean to the left, or too much lean to the right equates to certain disaster.

Oddly ours is a society of excess.
Excess does not equate to balance.
If you should want for anything, you are encouraged to go for it. . . and if you should want more, then by all means, go for it again, and again, and again—until you get your fill.

Nope, not much balance in excess.

Any child can explain balance.
Eat too much candy, the consequences are not pleasant.
Therefore there must be a balance.
Some candy is good, too much candy is bad.

Yet it seems to be such a difficult process for most adults to wrap their heads around such a concept.

We are constantly robbing Peter to pay Paul.

Meaning we pull from certain areas of our lives in order to increase other areas. Shaving off time, resources, energies on one side, pouring it over to the other side, all in the name of efficiency and performance.

We rationalize the need for or lack of sleep by consuming massive amounts of heart jolting caffeine, reassuring ourselves that we’ll make up for our sleeplessness by rationalizing that we’re one of those folks who can get by with just 4 hours, or that we’ll sleep in on the weekends. Yet our weekends are so jam packed and our eyes so blood shot and our bodies so sluggish that sadly the sleep never comes.

We chronically lie to ourselves about our time—time spent with our children and family. We justify our absence by claiming it’s all in the name of love. We spend copious amounts of time away from the very individuals who need us most then scramble like mad trying to make up for it with overindulgences.

We bargain with our health as we constantly rationalize. . . “It’s okay if I binge on this or that. . .I’ll work it off at the gym tomorrow, I’ll drink lots of water and take some aspirin, I only do this on the weekends, I’ll have just one more, it’s not like I have to have it, You only live once, I’m only young once. . .”

There is no balance in rationalizing, lying and bartering.

Rather balance is the equity in our lives and it is the key to living harmoniously. And without balance and harmony, our lives become a dangerous journey on the tightrope.

Without balance there are repercussions and consequences.
Sadly we continue to believe we can simply put a band-aid on it all, pop another pill, down another energy drink, have another drink, tell our kids another tale, tell ourselves another lie. . .that it will all work out because eventually down the road, when we’re finally older or retired or thinner, or healthier, or more grounded, or more finically sound. . .then, finally then, our lives will even out.

Funny thing about that thought process, those evened out days never seem to come.
Things happen.
Life happens.
Our best laid plans get steamrolled, sidetracked and smashed.

The moral to this rambling tale you ask. . .
Simply put, balance—
And that means balance now! Not later, not down the road, but now!
Quit lying, bargaining, haggling with and to others, but more importantly, quit lying to yourself.

Balance
Harmony
Equity

The Balance of
Time
Work
Rest
Play
Prayer
Joy
Fellowship
Peace

May you find your balance— sooner than later.
Remember, later is never a guarantee.