Finish well.

O say can you see

by the dawn's early light...

For the first time since living in Borrego Springs, the parade started with those beautiful words sung by my dear friend, Jackie. 

a perfectly cool parade morning

There are so many ways the Borrego Days Parade could be made better.  And I hope that someone will step in and improve upon my own efforts in the years to come.

6 years ago, I had no idea what I was getting myself into and I had no idea how to plan a town parade.  As a Disneyland parade dancer, I knew how to get it down the street, but other than that I was at a complete loss.  I have made so many mistakes.  I have learned so much.  And everyone has tolerated my ignorance and guided me to do as well as I could.  I am very thankful that I chose to scrap "professionalism" and embrace relationship.  I hope the entries, volunteers, and committee feel also that we are friends.  They have certainly been candid with me about their likes and dislikes and I have tried to accommodate as best I could...sometimes too much. 

The wildfires broke out in '07, and after hours and days and months of planning, I had to cancel only days before.  

Today, too, was heartbreaking.    

Following the Scottish band which was our grand finale, a man stopped me on the route, and asked me where I found the bagpipers, then proceeded to compliment the parade, and I started to cry.  I am glad for my sunglasses.  I experienced a few other such moments in the following hours.

I was able to close the parade from the Announcer's Stand and thank so many for so much.  I have had an incomprehensible amount of help.  The church has graciously provided parade announcing.  A dozen volunteers help the parade happen the day of.  Several hard-working folks lug road closure signs for zero compensation.  The Festival committee has been so incredibly affirming.  The entries have been positive and wonderful, and I really love them so much.

I love the Borrego Days Parade.  I will miss it.  

But I have a greater calling:  

a dear and precious husband, and two treasured boys.   

And so, a sacrifice is made 

...but not in vain.

People pleasing.

"For do I now persuade men, or God?  or do I seek to please men? for if I yet pleased men, I should not be a servant of Christ." ~Galatians 1:10

Now, you know after I read this yesterday, a whole bunch of people who I was obviously not pleasing made themselves known and I was on the verge of tears all day.  Actually, I was in tears.

Pleasing men.
Ugh.
Yuck.

What an absolute waste of time, energy, and emotion.

Pleasing people comes in more forms than just bowing to their wishes.  It also comes in the embodiment of hurt feelings when someone doesn't approve of you.  I like to be liked.  Yet, everything I stand for is controversial.

Jesus.

Unborn babies.

Absolute truth.

Politics.

True history.

Home schooling.

Scripture.

Biblical motherhood.

So, plainly, I need to get over the dread of people disapproving of me, criticizing me, debating with me, etc.  It's not like more confrontations won't come my way.

"When you make a stand, you become a target." ~Sally Clarkson

But don't back down.  The reason our secular culture is so dominant is because moral, religious people are allowing the opposition to intimidate them into a corner...when morality is actually possessed by the majority.  I've come out of my corner.  It's not easy.  But I'm not going back.  Courage breeds more courage in yourself...and in those watching you.

"Remember the word that I said unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord.  If they have persecuted Me, they will also persecute you;  if they have kept my saying, they will keep yours also." ~John 15:20

I love that this verse ends positively.  While I was ready to burst into tears yesterday (still mindful of this verse), so many of you sent your beautiful and encouraging words my way.  Thank you for that.  Thank God for that.   He is the God who sees.  Even in my own silliness and self-absorption.  He is the great Comforter using the hands, feet, and words of people like you.

Bless your day.

lessons from the kitchen counter

Gave my kids an impromptu lesson on welfare and communism (we were reading about FDR/social security, etc.) using what was within reach in the kitchen: 

a cleaning bottle (the working man), 

empty eyeglass case (the poor), 

and a big box of circus animal cookies (the government)

...and it wasn't even a part of our curriculum.

I LOVE HOME SCHOOLING!

The Silas Chronicles ...and mommy's failure

I understand I will laugh about this later.

Yesterday I was rudely awakened from a much-needed nap when Brandon informed me that Silas had been painting in the guest room and "he made a big mess."

Uh-oh.

Si had earlier asked me if he could paint and I told him no.  

a-hem.  

Obedience has been a problem lately...a BIG PROBLEM.  

ugh.  

Si had heaped paint onto his canvas and it apparently was about to spill over the side so B advised him to get it to the trash ASAP.  TOO LATE.

I immediately surveyed the obvious damage.

A trail of paint connected the guest room and the hallway bathroom. (Thank God we have tile throughout much of the house...of course the guest room is carpeted in what once was a nice, soft taupe color.)  But, it was worse in the guest room.  A gi-normous (ok, so I know that's not a real word but it captures my thought) mass of paint in all the darkest colors imagined was now the new focal point of my meticulously decorated guest room.  On a positive note, Si chose deep scarlet, rich blue and black as his color palette...and the guest room is adorned in a patriotic theme, so... well... no, it still isn't good.  Dozens of smaller offensive dense drips of deep color polka-dotted the surrounding carpet.  Upon following the trail the other direction into the bathroom, it was nearly as bad a scene.
Apparently he wanted to throw it away in the bathroom trash and not the can in the guest room which is conveniently located only 2 feet from the original site of the art project.  As the masterpiece was thrown in the trash, the paint cascaded down the bathroom cabinet and onto the lid of the toilet streaming down the side and onto the shower curtain.

I'm sure some paint ended up in the trash.

Phew!

You can imagine the cleaning job I had ahead of me.  I was so angry that I had to call Jamie to come home and deal with Si for disobeying the 53,786th time this week.

Si told me last night that he prayed and asked God to "come down and clean the carpet just like it was new." This morning, I lifted the damp towels off the carpet and it appears spotless---even the gargantuan spot I was certain would never come up.  I tell you, that's a miracle.  I was certain we would have to re-carpet the room.

I have to admit, I did not respond well.  I am reading Sally's book about joy.  It's not working.  I wish I could just be naturally joyful.  But I must CHOOSE it.  I failed my first test.

Maybe I will pass the next.

Patriotic Grace by Peggy Noonan

Yes, I finally finished it.

I don't even want to think about how long it took me to get through this 191-page book.  The delay is not because it wasn't interesting but because I have 2 children, a husband, I homeschool, teach dance classes, plan our town parade, do the laundry, dishes, clean the toilets, and, and, and...  Heck!  It took me 2 weeks just to get to the last 3 pages.  After reading a post from Sally quite a few months ago, I decided I would start reading again.  I hadn't read anything since Brandon was born because, well, WHO HAS THE TIME!?!  But, I realize the importance of reading and so I picked up a book.  Yes, it took me MUCH longer than usual, but who's keeping track?  And would it matter if someone was?  The point is, I am reading again.  And I don't care how long it takes me to get through a book.

Peggy Noonan also authored the story I listened to recently, When Character Was King.  About Ronald Reagan.  Excellent.

A few little blurbs from Patriotic Grace (let's face it, with a title like that I figured it couldn't hurt to read it. Lord knows I can come across like a Mack truck, so a little patriotic grace sounded...gracious.)...


Peggy spends a decent amount of time pondering 9/11.  In an account about Todd Beamer, she mentions his phone conversation from the doomed plane with an Airfone operator and how he ended The Lord's Prayer with her and his next & last recorded words were, "Let's roll."

Peggy:  People are often stronger than they know, bigger, more gallant than they'd guess.

About our ignorance of history:

The young of our country--and, again, our newest Americans, members of the great wave of immigrants of the past twenty-five or so years-need to know they are part of a continuum, a human continuum of great meaning and worth.  If they are taught a love of country it will  help them respect themselves-it will help them to know they are connected to that, they are a part of that, they are another expression of the continuum.  In a crunch-in a terrible moment of history-we will benefit from a renewed patriotic sense, and thank ourselves for having encouraged it.  A shared sense of pride in who we are and what we've been will help us see each other as...the same.  That sameness will be a real glue in a tearing time.  ..."American amnesia"...at 55 elite universities found over a third couldn't identify the U.S. Constitution as establishing the division of powers in our government; 40 percent couldn't place the American Civil War in the correct half century; and two-thirds didn't know what the word "Reconstruction" referred to.  "Citizens kept ignorant of their history are robbed of the richness of their heritage... A nation that does not know why it exists, or what it stands for, cannot be expected to long endure... We cannot expect that a nation which has lost its memory will keep its vision."  But another part of what I'm saying is that we have to teach our history with more love.  In our schools, the deadening history textbooks our children are forced to read, with their leaden prose and utter lack of aliveness to life, to its depth and meaning, tend to remove the person from history.  But history is human.

Oh, isn't this my heart as I teach my children the truth?  How can one read history and not let it thrill you to your core?  It is deeply emotional and beautiful and ugly and dreadful and victorious.  Real life, history is far more exciting than anything we could dream up even with our own most-radical imaginings.  The best stories are those of true heroes, true villains, danger, despair, salvation, victory.  Because we are a character in this story.  Will we live up to our part?  Will we be inspired by heroes of the past?  Squanto, George Washington, Rosa Parks, Todd Beamer, the fireman rescuing victims from a burning building, soldiers on the front lines of the battle, policemen who risk their lives every day never knowing what the next moment might bring their way, a little child's fight with cancer, an old woman's bravery with the same...we are surrounded by heroes.  My husband is a hero who defends citizens every day.  My mom is a hero caring for the medical needs of someone she does not know.  My sons are heroes making their plans of how they will protect me from mountain lions with slingshot in hand as we go on a short hike.  You are a hero.  History is so exciting.

Yes, our government revisionist history is killing the truth.

America has to learn to make things again.  Once, we were a great industrial nation; now we are a great information age nation.  There used to be more Americans who could build a small house than stand up and speak in public (or blog...ouch!).  Now, it's the other way around.  We are great talkers.  More of us have to learn to make things again.  ...if I were president I would decree that Shop and Home Ec be returned to the American public schools...  My twenty-one year-old son's friends will probably be businessmen, lawyers, teachers.  Good, they'll all be needed in the future.  But so will carpenters, builders, welders of steel, people who can pour a foundation, people who make things.  Including a meal.  Is it not in our national interest to encourage such education?

So, there's a little teaser.
Bless you!

DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!

Instead of posting about voting (which I guess I am sort-of doing right now), I have created a "VOTE!!" page.  Click on the tab at the top of this page, or go here and start figuring out who and what is and isn't worthy of your vote.

"These are the times that try men's souls."  

Can't remember who said that...but it is true of today.

Not that I want to tell you how to vote, but MAKE SURE YOU GIVE BARBARA BOXER THE BOOT!  Gosh!  Have I said that before?  And tell her not to let the door hit her on the patootie on the way out...

...well, actually a little tap won't hurt.

Kristen

Kristen is from Nova Scotia.

The hour-and-a-half drive landed me and 8 others at the airport.  After a marvelous and intense weekend, I was anxious to spend the day sight-seeing in Denver, so I quickly said my goodbyes to these treasured women and searched for the car rental location.  Once I got my bearings, I hopped on the escalator and headed down one level.  I looked behind me and next to a cute pink suitcase stood Kristen, one of the girls I had spent the weekend with but hadn't had a lot of time to talk with.  We did have a brief conversation about Prince Edward Island and our love of Anne of Green Gables.  Later she had witnessed the quick filming of my short testimony for Mom Heart, and she was so complimentary.  So, here she was standing with me on the escalator.  We quickly discovered that neither of us were catching a flight that day, so I invited her to join me on a walking tour of Denver.  She accepted and we had the most wonderful time talking, walking, photographing, crying, getting lost, eating, & discovering together.  We were fast friends.

No, we didn't want a shot of Kristen in front of a dirt pile...
someone had crocheted those flowers all over the fence.  
It was odd and interesting.

You never know what God-ordained moments await you in a day.  God placed both Kristen and I on the escalator at that moment and oh! the glorious time that resulted.

Brandon, Bethel, & BANG!

The first family trip to the shooting range.  I warn you, it turns out I'm a good shot.  So is Si.  But since he has a toy gun in hand at all times, that shouldn't come as too much of a surprise. 

 Brandon lotht hith firtht tooth on Thunday.

And our secret Bethel.           

Shhh.  Don't tell anyone.

Lee

Ever since I posted my abortion story, I have received incredible feedback from every possible end of the spectrum that you can (and can't) imagine.  I received this one recently and got permission to share it.  Thank you for reading.  We must get the truth out there and change the tide of the pro-life/pro-choice battle.  A life is a life.  Women and men are hurting and babies are dying BY THE MILLIONS.

Kori,

Thanks for sharing your story about abortion. I, too, have an abortion story with a little different angle to it.

When Roe vs. Wade went into effect I was 22 and worked as a patient aide in GYN Surgery at a hospital in Portland OR.  My thoughts at the time were, "I would never do that myself and I think it is totally crazy, but people will have abortions whether or not they are legal and it would be better to have them done in sterile conditions rather than young girls using hair pins, crochet hooks, etc. and risk infection, or death trying to do it themselves."

Not long after abortion was legalized, a doc who practiced at the hospital came up with his own procedure for saline abortion.  That was safer than the regular needle procedure by using a balloon catheter to infuse the saline into the uterus, then the women were transferred to our floor to await labor and delivery. Of course they were never told that they would experience labor they were told it was just like having cramps during a period. It still makes me feel angry all the lies told to these young girls.

At first, I was totally fascinated by the development of the babies.  It was such a miracle of God to see how perfectly they were formed and it wasn't long before I was totally abhorred by the thought that anyone could want to kill their own flesh and blood.  What were they thinking?!  But, they just believed what they were told, that it was just a clump of cells and not a baby at all.

I can't tell you how often I wanted just to show them their baby and tell them, "Look what you just did! You killed your baby!"  Of course, I never did that because I would have lost my job.  It also always got to me when they asked if it was a boy or girl!  We, of course, told them that we couldn't tell, but we did know and could have told them except for medical policy.

There were always at least 2 abortions in progress and often 4 or more depending on how empty or full the GYN floor was for regular surgical patients.

Eventually, I felt like an accomplice to murder.  But, even though I didn't want to participate, and everyone on our floor felt the same, I had no choice so I tried to be a comfort to them in their pain.  However the result for me was that it literally rotted out my guts and I ended up having emergency surgery.  I was on so much phenobarb that I could barely even walk down the halls and do my job for a while.

I tried to transfer off that floor and work anywhere else in the hospital.  I was interviewed for many other positions but never got them.  Finally, at one of my interviews I was told, "You know, Lee, you can keep going for interviews but we all have been told by your nursing supervisor that we can interview but never hire you because she doesn't want to lose you. It is very hard to work with GYN patients and you are too good at it."

My observation of the girls who went through abortion was that 9 times out of 10 they were angry and hostile and not nice to be around. They were demanding and very selfish but maybe that is just the way they were acting out because of the guilt they felt.

We had one 13-year-old that had a 26-year-old boyfriend that had 3 abortions when her boyfriend should have been charged with statutory rape and put away instead of her having so many abortions!

I was always reminded of the 10 lepers because that was about the ratio of those who thanked us for our help. It was a very hard job that required a lot of physical labor after they delivered. Having to clean them up, change the bedding, and collect their unwanted child to be sent to pathology.

The one that really did me in was the one born alive.  That baby had more fat on it than my youngest daughter when she was born 2 weeks early! Of course, by the time I notified the charge nurse and her doctor the baby had died.

I have carried this burden so long.  It feels good to express it. I know that God has forgiven me and I know that He has used me to help some of the girls make a better choice or to comfort them in their need.

One I do remember was a gal that looked so much like one of my college roommates.  She was hard to forget and I still pray for her although I no longer remember her name.  She had a particularly hard delivery.  Because work was so slow that night I spent almost my whole shift with her and finally towards the end of the shift she delivered. I did the routine things, to clean her up, give her food, change her bed, etc., then went to do my charting for the night.  I was totally exhausted, mentally, physically and spiritually at that point. Then her light came on and my immediate reaction was one of anger that I expressed to my co-workers, "What, now, can she possibly want?"

So I went to answer her light and she was one of the few of the 10. "Lee, I know that I will never see you again in my life but I want you to know that I will never forget you as long as I live.  Thank you so much for being here with me when there was no one else, thank you for giving so much of your time and for helping me through this."  She was one that had been forced to have an abortion when she really didn't want to.  I have prayed through the years that she would receive God's healing that she will know how much God loves her.

One of my charge nurses always baptised the babies born on her shift because she had been taught that unless a baby is baptised it goes to hell.  I believe that scripture teaches otherwise.  I know that all those innocents went straight home to the arms of Jesus and what better place could they be?

Our society is such a sad commentary that they think that it is perfectly OK to commit premeditated cold blooded murder which is what I believe abortion to be.  Maybe not so much by the innocent girls that are lied to, but by the machinery that convinces them that it is just a clump of cells!

Roe vs. Wade has never been about a woman's right to her body - it has always and ever will be about the MONEY and that is all.

The young doctor that invented his own safer method for saline abortions became a millionaire his first year of practice and even though he didn't think it was a good thing he still did it because he might at least help a few to protect their reproduction system because if he didn't do them, someone else would.  Sad, Sad, Sad!

The end of my participation in abortions came the night I was helping to transfer a surgery patient.  She had grabbed a hold of my arm for dear life because the anesthetic made her think that an inch opening from the gurney to the bed was like the grand canyon!  The orderly from recovery was very impatient because he had many more patients to deliver to their floors so he took hold of the sheet and just whipped her into the bed which tore all the muscles from my spine from mid-neck to mid-back! That is what removed me from the floor and ended any career

in nursing for me.  I was all registered to get my RN when this happened so had to drop out.

What I wanted to do in life was get my MS in nursing so I could teach it but evidently God had other plans. :)

Both Tom and I think the world of you and Jamie! We love you lots!

Thanks for letting me share with you! I thought of just getting together with you sometime but I write better than I talk so decided just to tell you this way, of course I'm open to sharing too if you want.

Love in Jesus!

Lee

vulnerable

My first summer at Disneyland, I made an enemy.  This girl hated me.  I wasn't sure what terrible thing I had done to her but she was ruthlessly mean and constantly on a path to embarrass and belittle me.

I'm not sure why, but her harsh treatment never really affected me.  It was my "honeymoon" with Jesus, so I must have been so wrapped up in Him that I never gave her attacks a second thought.  It didn't matter to me what she thought.

If you haven't read Max Lucado's book, You Are Special, get it.  It is an excellent story reenforcing the truth that we shouldn't allow other people's judgments to "stick" to us.  "They only stick if you allow them," Eli the woodcarver says. Sharon (the director of Silent Voices) reads this story at the post-abortion workshops and it is so sweet.

After a couple years of terrible treatment from this girl, we eventually became friends.  One day following a parade, we both were standing next to each other in front of the mirror in the parade locker room.  She says to me, "Kori, when you first came here I hated you."  Duh!  I replied, "I know!  What was up with that?"  "You used to wear that shirt that had the picture of the baby on it."  Hmm.  Interesting.  Suddenly I knew this girl had had an abortion and felt I had been condemning her for it.  It was a pro-life shirt with a picture of a baby on it and the words, "This is a choice?"  I stopped what I was doing and looked in her beautiful eyes, "Do you know why I wore that shirt?"  Timidly, "No."  "I wear that because I had an abortion and Jesus has delivered and healed me."  She looked at me surprised and quietly said, "I've had one, too."

Be vulnerable.

So many people view Christians as unreal and untouchable because we often appear to have our lives together and give the impression (whether we try to or not) that life has never dealt us the hard blows. Truly, she who is forgiven much loves much.  I may know that and you may know that, but not everyone knows that.  We can seem unapproachable.  This girl became an open book when she realized that we really are not that much different.  But one of us was blood-bought and redeemed.

Therefore I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much.  But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little. ~Luke 7:47

Years later, when I returned from my cruises I learned that she had given her life to Christ.  And recently she wrote me to tell me so and to tell me that she leads a dance ministry at her church.

Be vulnerable.  God will use it for His good.

WALK

I read Sally's latest post today and then the boys and I went for a walk.

altruism

altruism: (definition) acting for the good of another to the exclusion of one's own interests

This word has comes up several times in the book I've been reading, Patriotic Grace. (Yes, I know I've been reading that book forever...I have kids and am busy, what can I say?)  The author, Peggy Noonan, often talks about the 9/11 firefighters being altruistic and focused solely on saving lives...even to the end of their own.  Going into the towers and rescuing people down stairways...with no regard for what their political stance was or their religious belief or whatever.  Just save lives.  Just help.  Just do what you can for another human being.

Altruism.  I experienced it on Friday.

Silas and I went on a special outing to the Miramar Air Show to see the Blue Angels.  After we found our seats in the grandstands and enjoyed watching an aerobatic bi-plane, we noticed a man in the front row about 7 rows below us fall to the ground.  My first reaction was to pray with Si.  But, the man didn't get up and I could see good Samaritans checking for a pulse and someone shouted to call 911.  So I dialed.  I instructed Si to stay put and I ran down to where the man was to shade him with my umbrella.  It was a hot day.  As I frantically tried to give the dispatcher information amidst ear-piercing jet engines rocketing by, a couple of women began to give the man CPR.  We were soon surrounded by military personnel and I passed my phone to one of them.  I kept my eye on Silas.  A woman was befriending him and putting earplugs in his ears for him.  I had noticed this woman earlier because she was accompanied by another woman...clearly her partner.  Then, her partner swapped places with her and attempted to distract Silas from the obvious urgent situation with the dying man by directing his attention to the planes.  Never would I have imagined that these women would seek to comfort and protect my precious little boy.  And I realized that our moral beliefs made no difference in that moment.  They were kind to one of the most precious people in my life and I was thankful.

Altruism.  Love.  We must love one another.

What a co-winky-dink!

The Mom Heart Intensive I attended in August was absolutely life-changing.  I am pleased to report that I believe the good changes made in my heart that weekend have stuck.  I can be an incredibly critical person, and I have gleaned so much grace-perspective from my time with Sally, her leaders, and the other women that joined me in the fantastically intense time of wisdom and charge.  I do want to walk "worthy of my calling."  And am so glad to be on my way to that end.

I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you to walk worthy of the calling with which you were called, with all lowliness and gentleness, with longsuffering, bearing with one another in love, endeavoring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. ~Paul, Ephesians 4:1-3

With Sally recently when she spoke for CFS (Christian Family Schools)
clockwise from left: Victoria, Dana, Kay, Lisa, me, Sally

Lisa (my roomie at the CO Intensive) and I saw Sally the other day and were able to spend a few very short minutes with her before she had to catch her flight home.  You should have seen how fast we were talking!  LOL!  Trying to get every thought and word and question in before she had to leave.  We even chased her to the car to exchange final words and thoughts.

As we talked over our frappuccinos (Pumpkin Spice is back at Starbuck's by the way-yum!), I noticed a beautiful silver ring on Sally's hand.  It caught my eye immediately and I was mesmerized my it.  A small heart looking like a mother and child nestling their heads together.  For anyone who knows me VERY well, I have doodled an almost identical pattern since the time of my abortion.  Me and my lost child now in Heaven.  The longer I gazed at her simple, but stunning ring, the more I realized that the similarity must not be a coincidence.  I purposed in my heart and mind that on our way out of Starbuck's I would ask her about the ring.  She was so sweet and mentioned that Cherie, one of the ladies from the Intensive, had sent it to her from Texas.  She went on explaining that it looked like a mother and child and it was a heart, etc.  "Of course!" I thought.  I had drawn it hundreds of times.  Nearly every day, I draw it!  I have a tattoo of it (since 2000), it is embossed on a wall in my home, and I often draw it onto the envelopes of letters I write.  Then she says to me, "It's a James-Avery."  My husband's name is James and my baby's name is Avery.

My Avery design.

There are no coincidences.  God is in everything.  Look for Him today and don't pass by without giving it a second thought.  He may want to surprise you with His love this day in an unexpected way.

Pray for the USA, week of October 3

"Act as though it's all up to you; 

Pray as though it's all up to HIM."

SPENDING REVOLT (1 hour) webcast Sunday, October 3rd at 7pm Eastern.  www.spendingrevolt.com (via CWA)


REGISTER TO VOTE.  Only 50% of church attendees are registered.  Make sure the 2 people sitting next to you this Sunday plan to vote...stats say 1 of them isn't planning to.  Encourage them otherwise.  You can register online here.


CHIEF JUDGE VAUGHN R. WALKER wrote a letter to President Obama saying that he will leave in February 2011.  He is the judge involved in the last Proposition 8 (California) ruling.  Prayer matters.  Keep it up. (via Mario Diaz of CWA)

SAN FRANCISCO ---- The United States District Court for the Northern District of California announces today that Chief Judge Vaughn R. Walker will step down as chief judge effective December 31, 2010.  Also, Chief Judge Walker notified President Obama by letter today that he will leave the court in February 2011.  

Chief Judge Walker has been a United States District Judge since February 5, 1990 and has served as chief judge of the court since September 1, 2004.  Before becoming a federal judge, Chief Judge Walker was a litigation partner at the firm now known as Pillsbury Winthrop Shaw Pittman LLP.  Upon leaving the federal bench, Chief Judge Walker plans to return to the private sector.  

In his letter to the President, Chief Judge Walker said: “Concluding twenty-one years of judicial service, I leave the bench with the highest respect and regard for the federal judiciary, its judges and their staff and the essential role they fulfill in our constitutional system.”

By statute, United States district chief judges are selected based on a combination of age, seniority and experience and may serve in the post for a maximum of seven years. 28 USC § 136. By application of this statute, District Judge James Ware will assume the post of chief judge of the Northern District on January 1, 2011.  

JUDGE ROBERT CHATIGNY's vote was held over last week.  Chatigny is an Obama nominee for the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 2nd Circuit, and has a record of going easy on sexual predators. The vote has to come up, so please take action. (via CWA)

Warning:  These videos and the letter are graphic.  Absolutely do not have your children present if you view these.

also:  CWA's letter of opposition

• Pray.  What can the Lord not do?
• Contact Senator Feinstein and urge her to oppose Judge Chatigny. 
• Not from CA?  Contact your senator on the judiciary committee.  Go to www.govtrack.us and punch in the name.  The committee members are: 
• Patrick J. Leahy, D-Vermont
• Herb Kohl, D-Wisconsin
• Jeff Sessions, R-Alabama
• Dianne Feinstein, D-California
• Orrin G. Hatch, R-Utah
• Russ Feingold, D-Wisconsin
• Chuck Grassley, R-Iowa
• Arlen Specter, D-Pennsylvania
• Jon Kyl, R-Arizona
• Chuck Schumer, D-New York
• Lindsey Graham, R-South Carolina
• Dick Durbin, D-Illinois
• John Cornyn, R-Texas
• Benjamin L. Cardin, D-Maryland
• Tom Coburn, R-Oklahoma
• Sheldon Whitehouse, D-Rhode Island
• Amy Klobuchar, D-Minnesota
• Ted Kaufman, D-Delaware
• Al Franken, D-Minnesota

Being good is hard work.

Brandon is my compliant, easy child.  Silas is a good boy, but he has to work harder at it.  He has so much explosive energy and spunk, and as a result self-control is something we covet greatly for Silas.  As well-intentioned as he may be, often his energy and curiosity lead him into trouble.

Every once in a while we visit the assisted living home in our town.  One morning in particular we had a rough time getting out the door.  I was police-mom barking out orders and a stress bucket attempting to get us out the door in time, irritated at another thing in my schedule.  God loves cheerful giver, right?  Yeah, that wasn't me this day.  Anyway, we got in the car and on the road and I went through a quick attitude check and put myself at peace that this was a good thing we were doing and I put a smile in my face and my heart.  Then, I turned my attention to the boys.  "Boys, we are going into the home where the old, sick people are.  Please be on your best behavior and obey.  You must be very careful not to get wild because these people can get hurt very easily."  Yes, I was directing my speech more toward Silas than Brandon.
Brandon responded, "Okay, Mommy."  Being good was no problemo for this one.  But Silas slumped his shoulders and head defeated and muttered, "Brandon is always good."

"Hmm," I thought, "he's feeling like he isn't a good boy."  "Si," I said, "you are such a good boy, but you have to work harder at it.  For Brandon, being good is easy, but it's not like that for everyone.  I know you have a harder time doing what is right, but you are a good and sweet boy and I love you very much.  I know you have to work very hard at being good, but do you know what?  Mommy has trouble being good, too.  I, often, say things that I shouldn't that get me into trouble.  So, maybe you and mommy can help each other be good.  Is that ok?"

Silas straightened in his seat a little bit and settled in his heart that he is okay.  And maybe comforted a little by the fact that some one else he knows has trouble doing the right thing, too.  And that's alright, as long as we repent and keep trying.