EBOLA: I'm Mad

EBOLA:  I'm Mad....Here's Why

Please don't think of me as insensitive but all of this Ebola news coverage is making me mad. 

I understand that the horrible, full blown manifestation of fluids excreted from the body are highly contagious. 

• The U.S.A. is learning how containing the virus is a priority for the patient, hospital staff, public and CDC. 
• The government hearings are trying to identify errors so that they can prevent future breakdowns in possible contaminated people traveling and spreading the virus to others.  
• The hospital protocols are being changed to ensure the health and safety of all persons exposed. 

I guess I'm selfish. 

There are so many people dying in the same regions of Africa from curable and preventable diseases like malaria for which we have vaccinations (I worked for a ministry that helped them). They starve for lack of food and die due to hunger.  The water they drink has dead animals and feces in it.  Around them swarms of mosquitoes bite them with disease.  The people lack any clean water to drink or bathe in. 

What frustrates me is no one is responding with half the intensity for these adults and children as they are for the Ebola cases. I guess at some point, we become immune to human suffering around the globe.  It seems we drape a black cloth over it and blindly say, "We're doing the best we can."

Are we? Really? Or have we slipped into complacency, hoping the next generation will take care of it? 

Hunger. Disease. AIDS. Ebola. 

I think our time is right NOW!!!  To eradicate these known and in some cases preventable killers. 

The God of all creation has given us so much. I believe He will give us exactly what we need to get this mission underway so that His people can be saved and live a life on this earth that is free from suffering.

Divorce for the Children

I was talking with my therapist the other day when I mentioned I'd been blogging about my parents' divorce.  How I hadn't talked about it in detail for thirty-two years.  How I'd figured out what had been the triggering point for my recent swearing, irritability and anger.

Writing about that time in my life unlocked sadness.  Not the boo-hoo kind of sadness but the kind of sadness I feel when I see a dead cat on the side of the road.  I love cats.  Seeing one like that gives me cause to ponder and be sad and then I pray and then I move on.  It wasn't my cat.  I had no emotional investment in it's life.  I had no emotional loss in its death.

The same was true in my parents marriage.  I didn't grow up witnessing two people who loved or respected each other.  My dad was a dominant, angry man who was sometimes nice and laughed.  Unfortunately that side of him wasn't around often enough.  In fact, there was no telling when he would be around.  Sometimes, he'd change from the nice man into the angry man without warning.  Those were the times I feared the most.

My mom was very loving and used to sing to us at bedtime.  She'd come into our room and sit on the edge of my bed.  She sang Red, Red Robin, Lavender Blue and other songs I can't remember right now.  Her voice, to me, was angelic.  But pretty soon, she changed.  She became more scared and jumpy.  When scary things would happen, she would freeze.  Where did she go?  I wish she would have protected me from my dad.

Divorce.  The Bible says God doesn't want that for any of His children.  I understand why from only a child's perspective.  I also know God doesn't want any of His children to be abused.  That's what was happening in my home.

Being the oldest of three girls and the "boy" my dad never had, I was mixed up inside.  On one hand I was begging my mom to divorce my dad, telling her we'd be okay without him.  On the other hand, I couldn't believe she went through with it because he wasn't that bad.  I was feeling responsible for the divorce and in denial about the extent of the abuse I survived.

Through their marriage and divorce, I learned a lot.  Some good, some not so much.  Most of all, I learned it's important to listen to that small inner voice that God puts into all of us.  I don't know what to call it before we accept Jesus as our Savior but afterward it's the Holy Spirit.

The divorce of my parents, literally, saved mine and my sisters lives.

Visitation and Divorce

If there was one positive from my parents divorce it was the age of my sisters and I when it happened.  We were in our teens and old enough to be able to decide for ourselves how often we wanted to see our dad.  My heart aches for those parents and children who were separated and struggled to have time with each other.  I can't imagine your pain.

Since my dad lived close to us we could walk there.  But one thing was for certain:  Even though distance was not a factor, our previous years of living with a violent alcoholic were not magically erased just because he was no longer living in our home.  We went to his apartment with reluctance.  Not one of us would go there alone.

My dad moved into the apartment above the bar in our village.  By today's standards it was a two bedroom, one bath with a living room and kitchen.  It was perfect for a single person or a single person with one kid.  I remember the deep yellow paint on the walls the cobalt blue rug and some of the furniture my dad had taken from the house (his dresser, coffee table and not much else).

When I'd moved back into my mom's his girlfriend stayed.  We would go over there for some visits on the weekend, holidays, Father's Day and other times.  It was usually awkward because there wasn't anything to talk about.  He tried having a father/daughter relationship with us but it was already too late.  The damage had been done.

I remember one Father's Day when I was talking and used a swear word just to see what he'd do.  I was sitting on his counter which was okay.  He looked right as me as if I'd committed a mortal sin and told me Father's Day was now over.  I looked at my sisters when he told me to get out of his house and not come back until I could learn how to respect his house.  I slid off the counter and he got toe to toe with me.  I was now about seventeen years old and stared at him eye to eye.  I left the kitchen and my sisters followed me.

None of us wanted to be there anyway.

After that, my sisters got into recovery.

We told my mom what happened.  She told us we did not have to go over there if we didn't want to.  I believe there was a gap of a couple of years where I did not see or talk to him.  Other than my high school graduation, he did not have a place nor did he fit in my life of recovery.

I don't remember exactly but I think it was a few years where all we exchanged were birthday and holiday cards.  Do you know how hard it is to find a Happy Birthday and Happy Father's Day card for a man who abused you?  Of course you do.

You try to find a card that isn't mushy with how they've been there for you; how much they've encouraged you to become a better person; how every time you needed advice they were there to listen and offer you wisdom; how they brushed your hair and put it in pony tail; how they went to your games and cheered for you; the long talks while looking up at the stars; teaching you how to build models or rockets or paper airplanes; how pretty you were on your first day of school; knowing he'd be there whenever you needed help with a bully; his hug to make your hurts go away; the father/daughter dance he so proudly escorted you to; taking you out to celebrate the grades you worked hard to earn at school; and the time you and he spent together at Boy Scouts or 4-H or Awana or another father/son organization where it would just be the two of you.

That's some of what Adult Children In Recovery dream of for dads. I've thought about writing my own line of greeting cards for Adult Children In Recovery.

Who knows?  Maybe someday that will happen.

God Provides $$

The Bible says I should be content with what I have.  For the most part, I am.  Except during times when I'm not.

Living on a low income is hard.  I don't have many frills.  If you look at my assets there's my mobile home that's forty-four years old, my car that is eleven years old, my brand new laptop that was a gift from a friend and that's about it.  Everything else was free or from Good Will or Savers.

I'm not complaining.  Lord knows how very grateful I am for everything I have.  I'm not yearning for anything new.  I wish I could have simple things like this:

- A full tank of gas and more for the whole month
- Be able to eat out when I don't feel like cooking
- Do things with my nephew and nieces
- Drive up to my Mom's for a visit
- Drive to two friends for a visit
- Pay off some medical bills
- Go on vacation

When I was able to work full time, the above was easy to do.  Now that I'm not able to work and rely solely on social security disability, this sixth year is still hard.  Paying off my car helped but now I have car repairs.  Again, I'm grateful to have the funds but I can't seem to catch a break.

I wonder if I'm not meant to catch a break?  Maybe God wants me to learn more about depending on him and less about my managing?  That could be.

Well, I guess I can only do what I can do with what I have.
And maybe what I have is enough.