The Color of Evil

I am surprised at how often and in how many places, situations, and circumstances around the world, so many individuals want to put a color on the face of evil.

Evil is White.
Should we conclude that all Caucasians are inherently racist?

or
Evil is Black
Is it true then that black Americans are the only source of serious crime and poverty in our cities?

or
Evil is Brown
Migrant workers from Mexico are the root of our economic woes?

or
Evil is American
Our standard of living and addiction to global policing is the ultimate source of all ongoing global conflict?

or
Evil is Christian
Without Christians, the world would be a more tolerant and therefore more peaceful place?


or
Evil is Liberal
With less tolerance, we would have no crime and no sin in the world?

or
Evil is Muslim
The Islamic faith is the driver of all religious fanaticism and violence?

or
Evil is Bill Belichick
Who ever thought of a Superbowl with an asterisk next to it until Mr. Bill stepped onto the scene with the New England Patriots?

While clearly, some whites are racist, some blacks are criminals, some illegal immigrants steal jobs from american citizens, some christians forget to be Christlike, some liberals advocate tolerance as a cure-all, some muslims do very bad things, and bill bellichick has issues, none of these problems should be painted with the very narrow brush stroke that so many choose to use.

The narrow brush stroke restricts the capacity for evil to only one class of people, when in truth we would be better to paint the portrait of evil with a much broader brush... creating a stroke so broad that it would cover the hearts and minds of every single soul on the planet.

Evil is in not one, not two, but all colors.  We all have the capacity for evil thoughts, evil choices, evil acts.  Every moment that we believe ourselves immune is another moment where we become more vulnerable to evil itself.

ISIS beheaded twenty Christian laborers from Egypt this week.   They released a video of this unspeakable evil act for the whole world to watch.

How easy it would be to say 'I would never do a thing like that ... ever.'

Instead, I hope that I can and will bow down in humility and pray that God keep whatever is dark inside of me from ever, ever growing into something that is even a fraction as unspeakable as this.

The Real Reason behind Falling Fertility in the United States

In 2010, fertility rates in the United States dropped to 1.9 (children per women) which is well below the rate of 2.1 often quoted as that required to replace our population in the next generation.  

Some blame the great recession for the decline.  Some theorize it has to do with the fact that American women are increasingly self-involved. Some blame the increasing stress from the rapidly advancing pace of society.   Some blame God. Some blame Satan.  Some don't care.

Today, I discovered the real reason for falling fertility rates.  Here it is:

This is the Wood Stork, the only breeding stork in North America.  Unfortunately, because Americans are increasingly interested in moving to Florida (so much so that it is now the third most populous state in the country, behind California and Texas), the wetlands of the Sunshine State have been degraded, destroyed, and otherwise maligned to make room for the next greatest subdivision and the next and the next.

Unfortunately, the Wood Stork has a particular predilection for Florida wetlands, because during the dry season, bodies of water remain plentiful.  After all, you would expect nothing less from a state whose land is mostly ten feet above sea level or less.

But, as importantly, these ponds, lakes, and other assorted bodies of water do dry up somewhat during the dry season, thereby providing the ideal feeding and breeding ground for the unique Wood Stork.  Under these conditions, the little fishies in the water become quite concentrated, and the Wood Stork can just insert his (or her) bill into said body of water, open up, and Voila .... lunch!

With a deficit in ponds and the fishies that populate them, two things happen.  First, the obvious -- the Wood Stork babies starve.  And, second, the not so obvious.  The water under the trees where these birds nest disappears and the raccoons take the newly arrived dry land as an excuse to climb a tree and have Wood Stork eggs for lunch.

After this happens a few too many times, the Wood Stork lands himself on the Endangered Species list.  Bless Florida's heart, however, for taking an earnest interest in its poor Stork and replenishing some of its wetlands well enough that as of June 2014, the Wood Stork migrated from the Endangered Species list to the Threatened Species list (progress, at last).

It's about time Florida received accolades for doing something right.  As anyone who reads national news knows, Florida is all too often on the other side of the headlines.

So, next time you celebrate the arrival of a new baby among your family and friends, look out onto the front lawn... quickly so you don't miss it ... and remember that the Wood Stork who just made your special delivery may well have come from a restored wetland in none other than the Sunshine State.

Wait and see ... will U.S. fertility rates recover as a result?

God is not a big football fan

After this season's NFC Championship game, Green Bay Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers had this to say after the game:  

"I don't think God cares a whole lot about the outcome. He cares about the people involved, but I don't think he's a big football fan."

I wasn't a big professional football fan either (although I have been long known to be glued to the TV during college football games which involve select, beloved teams), until I turned around and saw my home team, the Seattle Seahawks, doing far more than just playing football and making umpteen million dollars a year doing so.  Instead, I saw a group of people who were playing football on a heady and inspiring combination of faith (in God), positive energy, mutual affirmation, AND determination to play as a true team.  The Hawks' team mentality goes well beyond a series of loose connections among elite athletes who just happen to be wearing the same color uniform when Sunday afternoon rolls around.  

Aaron Rodgers is right.  God cares about the people involved.   And because He is God and He cares, of course He cares about the outcome.   But, I believe that Aaron Rodgers is also right in saying that God is not a big football fan.  Of course not.  Football fans can't control the outcome of a game.   Cochess can.  Especially all powerful, all loving, all knowing ones.

Move over Pete Carroll.  You have company.   

So, where exactly was God during the Superbowl?   How could a team that He seems to have propelled through the last three minutes (plus overtime) to victory during the NFC championship game then lose via a history-making, heartbreaking last play during Superbowl 49? Did He just turn His back on the Seahawks and decide to focus solely on managing the New England Patriots instead, thereby cleverly diverting all the press from Deflategate?    

While the latter part may be true, the possibility that God decided to go to the NFC championship and then skip the Superbowl is untenable.  No, He was not too busy to attend.  

Instead, many who have walked in faith with God at some point in their lives have lived the answer to the question of "Where was He, when...?  When individual hopes, prayers, longings, and hungers are cast aside... neglected, ignored, shattered... there is usually only one reason.  

A greater purpose.  A longer story.   Another ending. 

the grand coach, having read well beyond management 101, orchestrates a larger vision that anyone ... even the 12th man... could possibly imagine.   

and, that is exactly the kind of God I want on my team.   

I am Peanut Butter

I feel a certain sisterhood with peanut butter.  I know some people cannot relate to this, because they seem to be capable of putting 1.37 million tasks on their plate without being any worse for the wear. I, on the other hand, would spend my life an inch wide and a mile deep if I could get away with it:

I like nothing more than a day spent with a to-do list that is one-item long.  No matter how much of my attention, time, intelligence, creativity, or heart that one item needs, focusing on only one thing to do is like a breath of fresh air in this crazy-paced world we now live in.

Writing fits this bill.  It may be stressful to get started.  After all, how many awful words can you possibly say to a blank computer screen before it cooperates and words begin to appear?   I have sought the answer to this question many times over.  Once the words are finally rolling from the keyboard to the screen though, I can serenely meditate through the hours it takes to put words on paper (provided a steady stream of coffee remains nearby).

Analyzing data fits the bill too.  Even when such data is being amazingly uncooperative and accompanying code to process it seemingly uninterested in the debugging cycle, the analysis itself is still only one thing to do.  Like a few other odd folks in the world, I am quite happy to spend my day doing math, as long as the math = 1 ball up in the air at a time.

In these and a few other rare instances, I am indeed, happy peanut butter in the magical world of work.   But, once the University of Washington or some other element of the crazy world out there breaks in, the situation quickly degrades, as, like peanut butter, I am spread a little bit thinner across a larger area, to no great advantage:

No longer am I happy peanut butter, but instead am downgraded to a thinly put together affair that has obvious signs of insufficient and often sloppy resources allocated to the tasks at hand.  This situation may not be attractive but it is not so bad.  I can handle a few more things on my plate than one.  Really.

Unfortunately, the 'only a few more things to do' scenario is not at all stable.  Instead, it has a widespread reputation of snowballing into the 1.37 million things to do situation described earlier.   Then, we have trouble:

Unhappy peanut butter is not a good thing.  Someone should remind the managers of the world of this profound truism so rapid steps can be taken to alleviate the situation wherever it may arise.

Such are my deep insights for the day after the most heartbreaking Superbowl ever.  

NOTE:  No peanut butter was harmed or wasted in the production of this blog.  All materials were repurposed and donated to the Wilson Fur Facility.