First a Hatchet, Then the Fire

We are learning details of a murder.  A father bludgeons and hacks at his two very young sons and then burns them alive.  They die of smoke inhalation, not their horrible wounds.  This story is carried on the national news.  I have been thinking about the agony the little boys endured.  I imagine their loved ones' grief.  Author William Paul Young's novel "The Shack" might help them find some peace.  Young offers a passionate and reasoned exposition of the succor God would provide to ease the way of the stricken.  It is a beautiful and very modern construct of a holy trinity.  For the sake of these little boys, I wish it were just as Young describes.

Know me, Care for me, Ease my way.

This is the vision of Providence St. Peter Hospital in Olympia, Washington.  Authors of wordy and labored statements of purpose would do well to consider the power of this message. It reflects the founder of the Sisters of Charity of the House of Providence in Washington Territory in 1859.  Mother Joseph's astonishing story is well documented.  Read it here.  Think about the journey of this young woman from Montreal to Fort Vancouver in 1856.  Montreal - at 58,000 the largest city in British North America.  After a 6,000 mile journey, picture Ft. Vancouver - a few hundred soldiers and fur traders living in simple wood shacks.  Try to imagine a service of fifty five years as spiritual leader, architect, building contractor, lead carpenter, financier, fund raiser and mother to thousands of orphans.  Now try to imagine doing all that in the bulky black habitat of her order. Eleven hospitals, seven academies, five Indian schools and two orphanages - over an area encompassing Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana.  On horseback.  In black habit.  Hear her dying words.  "My dear sisters, allow me to recommend to you the care of the poor in our houses, as well as those without.  Take good care of them.  Have no fear of them.  Assist them and receive them.  Then you will have no regrets.  Do not say - ah! this does not concern me, let others see to them.  My sisters, whatever concerns the poor is always our affair."

In the hustle bustle of today's high technology hospital there is a small chapel.  Mother Joseph is there.  Know me, Care for me, Ease my way.  Amen.

Mammas Don't Let Your Babies be Beauty Queens

Today there is news of  women seeking to have breast implants removed.  Hundreds of thousands of women have implants manufactured by a now closed French company, Poly Implant Prothese.  Apparently these implants rupture, often.

Why can't we encourage women to nurture and love the body they have?  Breast-obsession assures that most girls will find themselves imperfect.  Don't let your daughter get caught in this trap. 

If you wonder about the title of this post, it is inspired by one of my favorite songs.   Here is Waylon Jennings.