Can You Hear Me Now

I do not at all understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.

Anne Lamott

Anyone who has been following this blog knows that I am deeply concerned about the state of the world and the country I call home. There is war in Ukraine, genocide in Gaza, and we have a Republican government that continues to take us down the authoritarian, fascist path. Safety nets that have protected millions of people are being dismantled at a break neck speed. Racism is being codified in law. The separation between church and state is crumbling. Ecological concerns are being overrun with the economic interests of billionaires. Immigrants are being rounded up and put into cages like animals. My trans and LGBTQ+ friends are being stripped of their rights.

On top of all these political calamities, climate change is accelerating and we are fast approaching the point where we may not be able to turn things around. Severe storms and their devastation are becoming common place. Sea water is rising. We haven’t had a cooler than average year since I was in high school and I am not a young man.

Clearly, things are pretty awful for the human race right now.

America, I do not understand you
your appetite for excess while millions starve
or the poisons you endlessly spew into water and air

Do you not thirst
do you not breathe
do you care so little for the land you profess to love

America, I do not understand you
not your politicians who think only of themselves
and not your disdain of those who are different
I am baffled by your lusts
your obsessions and demands
I am confused by the greed and the waste
your propensity for fear and war

America, I do not understand you
neither your selfishness nor your anger
your claims of being exceptional
while you drink your way to numbness
and you drug yourselves to death

America, I do not understand you
not the guns you use for slaughter
nor the lies you use for control

America, I do not understand you
as I do not understand myself

Tuesday’s Child

In the midst of all this turmoil, I became a four-time grandfather last Tuesday. My nearly eight pound grandson was born on a rainbow-blessed afternoon. Mom and baby are doing well and despite the usual parental lack-of-sleep, everything is as it should be.

I would like to say that after three children and three grandchildren yet another birth would be routine, but it’s always an emotionally draining experience for me. Even though all six previous births went well, I can’t help but worry about what might go wrong. I’ve heard too many stories about last minute surprises and labors that went sideways to be able to relax until after the baby is out and breathing.

Fears and worry aside, I cannot be more overjoyed about my grandson. I am not a religious man, but even I can recognize a miracle when I see one. Holding him in my arms is humbling experience. Nothing I have done or will ever do can compare to the creation of life. Perfect is a myth, but this is as close to the myth as I will ever get.

And Yet

As a young man filled with the fire of change, I honestly thought that things would be better now. After all, my generation was supposed to be the one that eliminated racism, stopped gender discrimination, and ended wars. We were certainly loud enough in our desire to never get fooled again.

I remember when the United States elected Barack Obama for the first time. 150 years after the end of slavery in America we finally put a black man into the highest office in the land. The world hailed it as turning point and I truly felt that the words to the song “We Shall Overcome” were finally coming true.

And yet eight years after that momentous, supposedly transformative occasion, the country elected a misogynistic, racist conman to that same office. In another eight years a small majority of the voting population did it again, but this time he had added convicted felon, science denier, and rapist to his pedigree. This was not just a step backwards. It was falling down a deep hole.

Here is my dilemma. How do I reconcile the joy of new life with the stark reality of the world my grandson has entered? This is not the world I wanted for my children and grandchildren, yet here we are.

A Mother’s Wisdom

Years ago, I was complaining to my mom how messed up the world was. She listened patiently as I reeled off the awful things here and abroad. When I was finished, she reminded me that when she was a teenager there was this man named Adolf Hitler. She told me of how frightening it was to see her older brother and high school friends leave the safety of their Pennsylvania homes to go fight in places most of them had never heard of. Many of those young men never returned. Decades later she still remembered their names.

In the end, though, Hitler and most of his cronies were dead, and for a little while the world experienced some peace. As a post-war baby boomer, I owe my very existence to the prosperous years that followed VE and VJ Day.

I do not want to diminish the mess we are in today, but the world has always been a broken place. After all, we are a broken species. Whether it’s political unrest or a global pandemic, the human race is forever struggling to make it to the next day. It seems to be our destiny to live in a world where we fight to make life better while others fight to tear those same lives apart. It’s an endless cycle of wins and losses.

Despite my left brain telling me to worry about tomorrow, my right brain is telling me to live in the moment, and that is the voice I am choosing to listen to today. The modern day Hitlers be damned. I am going to shower my new grandson with love and support. He will have his struggles and someday he might curse us older people for the world he inherited, but that’s a story as old as time.

Monday’s child is fair of face,
Tuesday’s child is full of grace.
Wednesday’s child is full of woe,
Thursday’s child has far to go.
Friday’s child is loving and giving,
Saturday’s child works hard for a living.
But the child that is born on Sabbath day,
Is bonny and blithe, good and gay.

Welcome to life my Tuesday Child. May your grace make a difference in a world that desperately needs it. Fight the good fights as you embrace the brokenness that is the human race. Love and be loved. We have your back.

Thank you for reading.

When want and desire cry out for fulfillment
when each wish wished feels like one too many

When hope gives birth to hunger and passion
when waiting can only be broken with crashes and bangs

In darkness or light
love will always triumph