I needed time to think about this before I weighed in on it. I’ve done research. I’ve watched the video, looked at reports, read statements from the White House, letters from organizations, articles by naysayers, and blogs from supporters. I’ve spoken with a few close friends and family members and had a little chat with God.
This isn’t the first I’ve heard of (one of) the situations in central Africa. But I have what is often referred to as an “overly emotional” reaction when I hear of such atrocities done to children. I am not a mother. I have no biological children of my own, but I do have a few that I love with all the fervency that I can muster. I also have my kiddos at the daycare where I work. It is the faces of these children that I see whenever I watch a news broadcast—which is probably why I watch so few. So after a good chat and a good cry, I feel that I am finally able to report where I stand on the current attempts to arrest Joseph Kony.
I support this movement. I support arresting Joseph Kony and having him tried for crimes against humanity.
While I will not be donating monetarily to the particular organization of “Invisible Children,” I do support their endeavor to arrest this war criminal. The main reason that I am not giving money to them is because I really don’t have any and even if I did, the causes I choose to support financially are between God and me. I have looked over IC’s financials and their ratings with certain groups and they are not the money hoarders that many claimed and that I was beginning to believe that they are. They spend much on travel expenses, but that ought not be taken immediately as negatively. They are raising awareness, so that the people with power to do something (I’m looking at you, politicians and law-makers) are knowledgeable enough to make the changes that need to be made. Having said that, I plead for everyone to research any organization that you are considering making a donation to. If donating money is what you can do to help, please make sure that it will actually be used in a helpful way.
My greatest wish, though, in all of this is that the reason behind the cause, this movement—whatever you wish to call it—will not be forgotten. The children. For decades children have been abducted and had unspeakable things done unto them. As an overly emotional childcare provider, I cannot help but see and think of every one of those children as someone’s baby. Someone’s son. Someone’s daughter. They are the reason Kony needs to be brought to justice. They are the reason that I expect every organization attempting to assist them to be as fiscally responsible as possible. Because they are not just victims. They aren’t just numbers. They are children. So let us pray to the Prince of Peace that His love and His mercy might prevail in their lives.
“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’
“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’ “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’ “Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”
Matthew 25:31-46
Bruce Springsteen released his new album this Tuesday, entitled "Wrecking Ball." It's amazing. Like so many of Springsteen's other albums, it is full of the cries of the downtrodden, everyday-folk. These are songs for the people, presented in a near gospel-like fashion.
I watched Bruce give an interview on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon on Friday and it got me thinking--as Springsteen so often does-about my dad. He was the biggest fan of The Boss that I've ever met. And he made sure his kids shared his enthusiasm. I always tell people that I've been listening to Springsteen since before I was born--and that isn't an exaggeration. Both my brother and I were introduced to this rock icon in the same way that so many babies hear Beethoven: through headphones laid against their mother's stomach.
My dad was nothing special to those who did not know him. He was from a blue-collar family and worked a factory job. He went to church and played catch with his kids. Knowing what I know about the man he was, I'm intrigued by what he chose as my first taste of music.
Not Yet Born to Run
Wrapped securely
in my mother's womb,
I wasn't aware
of the eye-rolling and
the gentle, indulgent smiling
breezing across her face.
I can close my eyes
--now, decades after the fact--
and almost see my father's surely goofy-
looking expression of delight.
He was pressing his headphones
up against Mom's stomach,
in which I was nestled.
He had heard that classical music would ensure
that the baby was smart.
Smart.
It would make a baby more adept
at science, math, and reading.
The experts never said anything about ensuring the child would be
passionate
or poetic.
There were no statistics that proved
Mozart in utero helped strengthen
your unborn child's sense of
justice
or compassion.
Bach emphasized algebra,
not empathy.
In those exuberant eyes of my father,
that wasn't good enough.
It was late 1987,
when I was still fetal, still becoming
whomever it is I was born to be,
when my father set his headphones
across my mother's stomach,
when the first music I would ever hear
came echoing around me.
It was late '87 so
it might have been "Tunnel of Love"
or "Nebraska." I can't remember
and he isn't around to remind me.
But it is good
--to me, at least--
to think of my father,
eschewing expert opinion
about how to develop a baby's brain
and instead concerning himself
with how to develop it's heart.
