Author: Broken Handmaid of the Lord

I read this article on the NPR website today about a protest of the honor code that took place today on BYU campus. The honor code is an integrity contract all students admitted to church schools sign agreeing to abide by a code of conduct. It is rigorous and every year students are expelled for failing to abide by it. My relationship with the honor code is complicated and this post explores some of my experiences and feelings about the issue.

First, the protest itself. Protests are not bad, and I think this one provides us an opportunity to have a conversation about the obvious concerns of the rising generation. This protest is completely in line with the trends we are seeing and have been seeing for almost fifty years. America has always been a land of rebels, but in the last fifty years, rebellion against norms has really taken off. Everything must be new and cutting edge, including our values. We cast off old values like we do the last decade’s fashions. In fairness, my move from a small town in rural Idaho, to a suburb of a major metropolis might skew my perspective some about how much has changed in society verses how much has changed around me. Even with that in mind, I think our norms are changing and changing fast, and for the rising generation, the traditional head down way of handling social issues just isn’t going to work.

Change is always hard, but change right now is inevitable. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is changing. I used to think that the true church of God would never change; that it would be a steady anchor in changing times, holding fast to steadfast principles. I still believe that to be true, but it is a little more complicated than I thought. The church is made up of imperfect and changing people living in a time of upheaval and flux. The principles remain the same, but the ways they are enforced; the policies and attitudes behind the principles must be flexible. Compassion and mercy must be balanced with principles when it comes to enforcement– But I passionately believe that if a standard is put in place, there must be enforcement. We can decide what that looks like in order to provide the best outcome for the students, but just putting the rules in place and expecting them to be followed, or putting students in charge of reporting on one another can be a disaster, as my story demonstrates.

I was a student at BYU in Provo for a short time twenty years ago. I lived at an apartment complex called Branbury Park. I had found it online on my dialup modem at home in Idaho. It looked fairly new and very nice. They had a great website. Their pictures marketed their BYU approved housing status and featured pictures that evoked thoughts of LDS culture. They were a little more expensive than most places, but I was planning to get a job and I thought it would be worth it to have my own room in a nice complex. I had just finished my Associates Degree at BYU-Idaho, and I thought BYU would be a great place to transfer that would have similar standards. BYU-Idaho, or Ricks college as it was back then, had strict enforcement of the honor code including curfews and boys not allowed in bedrooms. The complex appointed RAs, or Resident Assistants that were in charge of honor code enforcement. They had power and everyone knew it. We signed the honor code and we were expected to follow it. The day I moved into my new place at Branbury Park, I found an eerie note on my bed. It was a legal disclaimer stating that the BYU housing approval was not a guarantee that the BYU honor code would be enforced or even that the apartment was in compliance with legal safety standards. Clearly I wasn’t at Rick’s College anymore. It got worse from there.

I soon learned that Branbury Park had a notorious reputation on BYU campus as the party place. I had no friends and struggled badly with what I know now to be depression. I was stereotyped as a Molly Mormon and was treated as an outcast. My roommates would go clubbing at night in Salt Lake City. I invested in earplugs so that I could sleep though their endless parties. I learned very early on that the honor code was nothing but a formality to these BYU students. They thought nothing of going into their bishop interviews, promising to live by certain standards, and then breaking their word the same day. I remember me and my roommate had honor code appointments back to back. As soon as we got home, she was playing card games with some dude in her back bedroom. My other roommate was making out with her boyfriend on her bed. Thankfully, I had my own room.

They knew that I took the honor code seriously, but they also knew if I reported anything, they would know who the snitch was. They would make things miserable for me. They resented and feared me because of how I could mess up their lives, and I was terrified of them. I was stuck in a contract and I didn’t want any trouble.

One of our roommates moved out, but couldn’t get out of her contract, so she left her room empty. Another girl moved into her room without paying. She wasn’t a student at BYU or anywhere, and unlike the other kids at Branbury Park who liked to live a double life, she had no desire to look or act LDS. She had a terrible spirit about her. I remember the first time I saw her and her hatred of me seemed to radiate from her person. She terrified me. I still remember the dread I felt as I heard her move her things in. I thought the worst thing I had to endure that year would be when my FHE brother asked me to do a table dance and everyone laughed at me, or maybe when that nasty guy they called as the Gospel Doctrine teacher used the class as a recruitment tool for his network marketing business. This was the worst.

I agonized over what to do. Should I notify the apartment managers that a girl was living in our apartment that shouldn’t be there? Everyone would know who the snitch was. My life was bad enough in that apartment, but I felt like the line of decency had to be drawn somewhere. There were boys spending the night and beer parties in the parking lot. I came to BYU thinking that I would be with other kids who would be striving to live the honor code. As it was, I stood out dramatically for refusing to compromise myself. A couple of slices of bread were all that was needed for the entire ward for sacrament meeting. It made me wonder why these kids came to church at all. Why did they want to attend BYU? No one seemed to care about the gospel. I thought for sure I would find someone to be friends with, but I never did. If you were a decent person when you moved into Branbury Park, you weren’t by the time you left. Everyone on the outside judged me for living there. Everyone on the inside judged me for not being like them.

That was a dark time in my life. My sister was married to an abusive man. I was living far away from home for the first time. My tonsils were bad and I was almost constantly battling strep throat infections. I decided to quit going to school and got a job with the plan to move out as soon as possible. Even though I tried to sell my contract, I wasn’t able to. I stayed the whole year. I didn’t ever tell anyone about our squatter roommate. I had a feeling that she was better off in our apartment than wherever she was living before. At least she had a place to sleep.

Even though my roommates didn’t like me much, I stayed close to the Lord and I still loved them. Eventually I gave up trying to make friends in my ward and complex. I joined the UVSC institute and took as many classes as I could to avoid going home after work. I stashed bagels in my car so I wouldn’t have to eat at the apartment. I drove the five hours home almost every other weekend. When I did see my roommates I was cordial, but tried not to involve myself in their lives. The less I knew, the easier it was to live with the situation.

At one point my roommate Katy was not doing well. Her dad was a Dentist and she was rich and messy with lots of expensive clothes that she never took care of. Her room had so many clothes on the floor it was knee deep in some places. She was pretty and blonde and fairly nice. In another situation, we probably would have been good friends. If there had been more good influences around, she might have gone a different way. Unfortunately, she started hanging out with a nasty guy. She stopped sleeping at our apartment at night, and I was worried about her. I talked to my other roommates, and they were concerned about her too. Even by Branbury standards, she was slipping. She wasn’t going to class, and she had gotten into some substance abuse. I prayed about what to do. I told a member of the Bishopric that I was worried about Katy; that I didn’t want to get her in trouble, but that I thought someone should know what was going on. A few weeks later he told me that he had called her in to talk with him. She had started the repentance process and was doing much better. He wanted me to know. I had done the right thing. After he mentioned it, I could tell she was doing better. I don’t know what ever happened to Katy after I left, but I hope she was able to stay out of trouble. Maybe she moved out of that awful place. I hope so.

After that year, I was much more careful about choosing my apartments. I made certain that I never got into such a terrible mess again. I moved to a better place on BYU campus for the summer, and then started at Utah State the next fall. Part of the appeal of Utah State, was that there wasn’t an honor code. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to live the honor code. I have always been a straight arrow. I didn’t want to go to a church school where there was an honor code that wasn’t enforced. It put me in a difficult situation at Branbury Park and I never wanted to be in that place again. Better to have no standard, than a standard that isn’t enforced except for vague expectations about peer monitoring. It isn’t that I don’t like the idea of an honor code, it just needs to be done right and in practice, it isn’t always done right.

Here’s the thing. I know not everyone wants to live by the standard of the BYU honor code. That’s okay. There are lots of other schools people can go to. Anybody who gets accepted to BYU has plenty of options about where they want to go to school, so whining about the honor code rings hollow to me. There are lots of good kids willing to live the code that are turned away every year because they don’t qualify academically. They are taking you at your word that you have the moral qualifications to handle the honor code, but if you fail to live up to it, why should they be obligated to keep you? If you sign a contract saying that you are going to live by a code and then you don’t, you are only lying to yourself, the school, and God. You take a spot at a church school that someone else is more worthy than you to have. If you commit sin, God may forgive you, but that doesn’t mean that BYU has to keep you. If you violate the honor code, you are breaking your word to the school. Choices have consequences and that’s just life. If I choose not to go to work, I can’t go to church and repent and then expect that because God forgives me that I will still have a job. That’s not how it works.

That doesn’t mean I advocate that everyone who makes a mistake is kicked out. What I’m saying is, don’t conflate the forgiveness of God with the standards at BYU. They are two different things. If you want a good school with good academic standards, why is it different to want a school that also has high moral standards? What difference is there really between wanting people to understand and practice the rules of quadratic equations and wanting people to understand and practice the law of chastity? Yes, people will make mistakes, but should we just stop grading tests? Stop failing students? Tossing out the honor code would be the moral equivalent of throwing out the grade book academically.

A good school offers tutoring to those who struggle academically. I believe BYU should also provide support to those who struggle to live up to the standards of the honor code. If the code is wrong, that also needs to be addressed, but that isn’t what it seems to me that this protest was about. It is about mercy, forgiveness, and having a standard at all. In that, the core issue is the conflagration of divine forgiveness and the consequences of sin; the violation of divine covenants with the contracts of men. If I break the law, I have to pay a fine or do my time. That has nothing to do with whether God has forgiven me.

Of course, as a church and as a society at large, we are re-evaluating our sexual norms. The LGBT movement cannot be ignored. We must have faith that God understands what is beyond our knowledge and that as we extend mercy to those who struggle with these issues, and seek his wisdom, we will know the way forward. Sexual assault, or the situation in which I found myself with my roommates are not the fault of the students in impossible situations. We need to be careful in our judgement that we don’t condemn victims or give power to their abusers. No matter how careful we are, I still don’t see the future being warm and fuzzy when it comes to these issues. They are hairy and difficult for everyone. Still, we need to make sure that we aren’t neglecting our responsibilities when it comes to our own due diligence.

For example, if you are going to make money off kids paying rent at BYU and you market your complex as BYU approved housing, you should make sure that your rooms comply with legal safety standards and that the honor code is enforced. That disclaimer flyer may have protected Branbury Park legally, but God won’t forget the hell I went through that year. There are some people who profited from the mess that was allowed to happen at that complex. My mom and I were deceived and swindled and I’m guessing we weren’t the only ones.

My Branbury Park story is a cautionary tale. Don’t assume that when you send your kids off to a church school that all is well. There was a rumor that my family home evening brother was pimping out my roommates. I found it plausible. Seriously. Also, I’m all about compassion, forgiveness and second chances. I can see how the honor code might be a way to persecute and shun someone who is struggling to live a standard that is a little out of reach for them; but keep in mind that the opposite is also true, as my story shows. As our society re-examines shame and the enforcement of sexual values, we need to remember that if the standard is put up for our youth, it should be fairly and consistently enforced by the adults who preside over them. Not holding students accountable for keeping their promises rewards liars and punishes everyone else. If the standard isn’t enforced fairly and consistently, its better that it isn’t there at all.

Expecting young people to self monitor and report one another for honor code violations is unreasonable. I felt guilty at Branbury Park because I felt like I needed to tell someone about what was going on. I felt complicit because I was looking the other way and not reporting my roommates. Still, I knew that nothing I reported would have any effect. Obviously, the problems at that complex were much larger than I could do anything about. At one point I talked to one of the members of the bishopric hinting vaguely about how the honor code isn’t enforced like it was at Ricks. He seemed to know the burden I carried. He said, “This is a hard place for a girl like you to live.” He was right. I took his sympathetic response as permission to disregard the honor code violations of my roommates, but I never felt comfortable with it. I did the best I could, and looking back, I think I was a good example to my roommates, especially to Katy. I struck a good balance between compassion and obedience in a very difficult situation. Not everyone can do that, but I showed those kids that you could still live the honor code even at Branbury Park, even if it meant that you didn’t have a single friend for a whole year. Even if it meant eating bagels for dinner in your car every day.

I never wanted to be a hero or a Molly Mormon model of righteousness for a bunch of rebel kids. I just wanted to go to school and be accepted like everyone else; maybe go on a few dates. The Lord had other plans for me that year. Still, I wouldn’t wish it on another twenty-year old girl. We can and should be better at our church schools. My oldest son wants to go to BYU. I’ve never told him my horror story. I like that he has a BYU placard hanging in his room and wears BYU socks. In our world of shifting values, I hope BYU can make the honor code work. Clear and unchanging principles are rare and vanishing on our college campuses, and they are needed more than ever IMHO. Even though I never graduated from BYU, I can respect what they are trying to do-I just want them to do it right.

Silence…… It’s a little weird when you are used to four kids and a dog pulling at you on Saturday morning. I’m at a hotel in Allen getting ready for my concert tonight.

Last night the energy at dress rehearsal seemed especially potent. At one point, the youth choir sang a moving arrangement of a song I had never heard before. It was pure and radiant testimony of the Savior with the lyrics taken straight from scripture.

My eyes honed in on the face of one beautiful young girl with dusky skin and full lips, her long dark hair swept back into a casual updo. I imagined that earlier that day she had been sitting in a high school classroom with other kids, nothing special about her. Her eyes were intent on her conductor, and her face seemed transformed. She was an angel delivering a scriptural message to me.

Most of the time we take medication via pill. It takes a while, but it works. We usually read the scriptures for spiritual knowledge and nurturing. Sometimes the words are pretty meaningless at first, but eventually they work. If you want interveneous injection of spiritual power, you need music.

The power of the music we sang last night defies easy description. In this world of cynicism and doubt, conflict and cruelty, confusion and darkness, music is an underrated tool.

By small and simple things the Lord bringeth to pass that which is great. His wisdom is foolishness and confounds the wise. Music is the vehicle of the spirit; the language of the angels. It can heal the world. It can dissolve bitterness in the soul. It can cleanse the broken heart.

Come unto Him! Ye that are heavy laden! Ye shall find rest unto your souls. Come all ye children of the Most High and sing his praises from the top of the mountain for He is Mighty to Save! MIGHTY TO SAVE!

Saturday night the big boys and Ben went to the Priesthood session of conference. We had managed to watch both sessions of conference earlier that day, so by the time they left the church with their dad, they had watched six hours worth of sermons. They eared their dinner at Red Robin!! Layne looked at me and said, “Tomorrow is Sunday AGAIN isn’t it?” By that he meant, “General Conference is a marathon and it isn’t even half over. We have another day of church.” I looked at him sympathetically and replied, “At least there are only four hours tomorrow.”

He looked dazed for a moment and said, “I don’t know if I will survive.” I love Layne! He has this way of being hysterically unintentionally funny. We did survive conference. Devin shared pictures of the new temple in Rome with his girlfriend who is Muslim. (Devin tells me they are just friends) He has been answering her questions about our church. She was appropriately impressed with the intensity of our worship. She gets it since her faith is the one with Ramadan.

Between the dog, the toddler, and the teenager, I didn’t get a whole lot out of conference. There were a lot of times when I would sit down to listen, hear a phrase like, “We must remember to always…..” interrupted with a scream followed by, “That’s cheating!” After breaking up the conflict, I would sit down again and hear, “The gospel plan of happiness can help us….” just as Austin would decide the dog wanted to slide down the back of the sofa. “Momma, she LIKES it!”

Between the scuffles and distractions, I did hear a few things. My overall impression of this conference and the last one is that there is a tone of urgency and intensity. Gone are the days of laid back talks full of reminiscing. The leaders of our church are saying things like, “We are at war,” “I plead with you to repent,” and “time is running out.” After a glance at the daily headlines, I see exactly why.

Whether you get your news from the right and believe that there is vast conspiracy involving Hillary Clinton, the FBI, and former President Barak Obama to invalidate the 2016 election (groaning inwardly)–or you take the more mainstream media narrative, that Russia, China, and their allies are succeeding in creating division and chaos through targeted online propaganda campaigns supporting dangerous candidates and extreme policies, resulting in the election of our most divisive and mercurial president in modern history. Regardless of your perspective, the investigators are investigating, the investigations are being concealed, the investigators are being investigated, the lawyers are scheming, the misinformation is flowing, the civility is draining from our body politic like a dead deer carcass. Upon that we should all be able to agree. We are teetering on the edge of an abyss. Isn’t it time that Christians remember the being that we worship?

Jesus Christ was not a political leader. He did not seek to take from the wealthy to enrich the masses. He didn’t need their money. He took a loaf of bread and fed five thousand. Do you think that your social welfare programs and bureaucratic behemoths can compete with his miraculous power to save and provide? If he were partnered with you, then perhaps these programs would be capable of benefiting society, but without Him, you are building a Tower of Babel. You will not succeed. There is no compassionate, prosperous future in secularism, humanism, and socialism. It is a dry and withered reed compared to the firm and green stem of Jesse. The left must find the Savior.

On the left there is too much outrage and too little faith. The white male is elevated to Godlike status. He is seen as all powerful; both to blame for everything and simultaneously capable of fixing everything. He is seen as selfishly withholding the resources of society within a culture of white privilege. Although this perspective has some truth to it, it is fundamentally flawed. There is one God, and he is no respecter of persons. He is the source of all good things. Only through obeying his commandments can one secure the blessings of liberty and prosperity upon their descendants. He is the source of salvation, not the white male. Even the multicultural collection of citizens with honorable intentions and vast resources pales in comparison to His might. It is only through Him that we will find the way through this web of evil we are in.

Now to my friends on the right, a message of repentance. It is not too late. It is still possible to open your eyes to the destruction before us. You have trusted in the arm of flesh. Your fear blinded you to the scriptural and historical fact that when the wicked rule, the people mourn. You decided to vote for a man who has shown over and over again through his own words, the words of journalists, the words of confidants and friends, that he is a liar, an adulterer, and a bully. He lacks the qualities of the Master, and yet many who claim the title of Christians laud him and claim divine sanction upon his rule. He turns his back on the weak and the oppressed and causes his people to do so as well. It is time to turn away from this evil. Whatever your reasons for supporting Trump in 2016, there is another election in 2020 and another opportunity to choose a righteous leader who can thwart Satan’s designs and deliver us from the evil day. We should all exert our best efforts to find such a leader to vote for in 2020.

It is politically unpopular to stand on principle. Power is measured as a finite resource to be hoarded and defended at all cost by the puny men who wield it. The trends of public favor are scented and discerned by political pundits stylizing themselves as oracles divining the future. Let us be like Daniel of olden days and cast aside the heathen’s ways. Is there not a God in Israel that can protect us from the maw of the lion? How so, if we cast him out of our voting decisions? Have faith! Through small and simple things, the Lord bringeth to pass that which is great! Let us stand upon principle, let us open our hearts to the poor beggars at our southern border and around the world who come to us for asylum. The Master would not have us turn them away. He will multiply our efforts and our country will be better for it.

Our President insultingly referred to certain countries as “shithole countries.” In his mind, bringing people in from these countries is a terrible idea. As a gardener, I can see the value of shit. (Please pardon the language.) Manure, as I prefer to call it, is fertile and can produce incredible results when added to soil. As a gardener, I seek out manure, and add it to my soil to restore vitality and fertility to stagnant low producing garden beds. America has traditionally accepted the dross of humanity from the darkest places in the world and found them to be worthy countrymen, even a blessing to us. Saying, as our President so unwisely did, that our country is full is not only untrue, it is incredibly calloused. Shutting our doors to immigrants at a time when the number of displaced persons is at the highest point in sixty years, is as cruel as it is stupid. To give such policies divine sanction is blaspheme.

And now I leave the subject of politics. Maybe I won’t write about it ever again. That would be a relief for some, I’m sure! This is a time of extraordinary anxiety for me. I find my mind racing as I try to go to sleep. Even my sleeping pill seems to have little effect anymore. I suppose it is natural to be afraid when you are standing at the doors of Armegeddon. This is it. The last days of the last days. Tough times are ahead, so I choose to live in today.

My little Pepper sits calmly in my lap fast asleep. Her warm body sends calming waves over my mind. The warm sunshine heats the soil of my flower beds. The pungent smells of fertilizer and fresh cut grass fill my nose. I feel the tender embrace of my little boy. For today, for this moment, I am at peace. I am happy. The people I love are safe, and all is well.

The future is the hands of my God who is mighty to save! He will not leave me comfortless in the days of my affliction. He knows in whom I have trusted. I fear not the power of the wicked in high places, for he is above them all. Though times of trouble are upon us, even at the doors; I will not fear, for He is by my side.

I wrote a post yesterday that was pretty good, but I worried that it would send an unintended hurtful message to some readers, so I’m going to think more on it. See, I actually do have a filter! Sometimes. I really do care about people’s feelings, and if at all possible, I want to say what I have to say without causing pain.

Yesterday I was frantically searching the internet for everything I could find about dogs and chocolate poisoning. Pepper got into a package of Swiss chocolate cake rolls and threw our chaotic home into a whirlwind of phone calls, internet searches, and panic. Half a package of cake rolls, a $65 pet poison hotline call, and a good night’s sleep later, and Pepper is none the worse for wear. She only weighed in Tuesday at 2.5 pounds, so we have to be super careful about what she eats. It wouldn’t take much to kill her.

As I was searching, I came across an article with a fearsome dog with hackles razed, barely contained by a muzzle. It was a jarring image with the title, Ten Most Aggressive Dog Breeds; ten meanest dogs. I clicked on the link and was surprised to see number one on the list was……the Chihuahua. Yes, the smallest dog in the world is, according to this article, the meanest, most aggressive, most dangerous dog in the world. I can only assume that size is not considered a factor because I hardly think an eight pound chihuahua is as dangerous as a 70 pound Doberman Pinscher. Still, the article gave me a moment’s pause. Consider the picture they have. If looks could kill!

I thought when I adopted Pepper that was was getting a sweet, calm, docile animal. She was. But now she is growing up, and she is finding her mean Chihuahua side. Seriously, I have probably twenty tiny puncture marks on my hands where she has bitten them. Some of this biting is typical puppy teething, but sometimes it isn’t. I get the distinct impression that this dog wants to be large and in charge. She has a thirst to dominate me.

For anyone who is concerned that I have a three year old at home with this fearsome beast, let me put your mind at ease. She bites me and Wesley mostly. Wesley is nine, and although this is not cool, he is not in danger. Austin and Pepper have a strange relationship. Austin loves Pepper. Pepper fulfills the need of all little people to find something smaller than them to boss incessantly. Austin is constantly issuing commands to Pepper, and when she does not obey, Austin picks her up under her front paws with her back legs hanging pathetically. It is usually at this moment that she turns her liquid black eyes on me silently pleading with me to take her away from her tormentor. Still, she does not bite or act aggressively toward him. I’m not sure why this is. Sometimes she has had enough from him and she will growl at him. At those times I tell him to back off. Austin is not the slightest bit frightened of her. Maybe that is why she doesn’t bite him. She senses no fear in him. Anyway, she is wise not to hurt my baby…..that would not end well.

Back to the aggressive dog list. Number two on the list is…..the Daschund. So, as some of you know, Pepper is a mix of uncertain parentage, but she is mostly a Chihuahua/Daschund mix. So yeah. I have the most aggressive, dangerous dog in the neighborhood. Don’t mess with me!!

She is a natural hunter. She has hunted down and killed probably close to ten June bugs on the back patio. She loves it when she finds the occasional mosquito eater that floats into the house. Insects fear her. Beware the tiny dog!

We are settling into our role as a puppy family. She is very good at following her sit command. She can sit, stay, jump and do combinations of those things, but we have had a few struggles which might warrant a round of dog training classes at Petco. With such a dangerous and aggressive dog breed, we can’t be too careful. I might have to get a ferret sized muzzle…… With animals living in the house that want to rule the roost, parenting can be difficult. Which brings me to my teenager.

He decided some time ago that it wasn’t worth it to do his chores which he earns a modest allowance for. His room became so messy, I couldn’t walk around in it. That’s a problem for me, because his room is also Austin’s room. Eventually I cleaned it for him, thinking that perhaps he just needed a fresh start. Nope. It is getting to be just as bad as it was before.

Eventually, Ben and I realized that this situation could not continue. We started issuing consequences. Every morning Ben gives the boys a ride to school. Now those rides are conditional on whether or not chores were completed the day before. Our other boys have responded well, buckled down and started doing their chores. Our oldest has procrastinated, whined, made excuses, and moped. It is now two hours into school, and he still hasn’t left the house. This is the second day this week that he has pulled this crap. When he asked me this morning if I would take him to school if he got his chores done, I told him I would drive him to Coal Creek, which is on my way to the preschool, and that he would have to walk from there. “What motivation do I have to do my chores then?”

I thought for a second and then answered, “That’s actually a very good question. What is your motivation? What kind of person do you want to be? Someone who respects your mother and completes his responsibilities? That is the question you need ask yourself.”

Between the dog, the toddler, and the teenager, I have a lot of things draining my energy. Good news is, I’m handling it. I’ve been painting a lot; portraits mostly, but also some flowers. Everyone is alive. Hopefully everyone is learning and growing to become the creatures God created us to be. Whether that is the most aggressive, dangerous, tiny dog on the planet, or the most stubborn teenager ever, or the strongest, wisest Mom on Crystal Brook Ct.

“For Wakanda? Without question.” The steely eyes of Okoye exude resolve as she delivers that line. It sends goosebumps down my spine just remembering it. Black Panther is a fabulous movie for many reasons, but the character of Okoye is so well done that even in this film, she stands out. In this moment she is asked if she would be willing to destroy the man she loves for her country. She shows the depth of her loyalty and her commitment to duty in her unflinching response.

I love my country. People wave the flag and proclaim love of country, but my intuition has told me that no one I have ever met loves America like I do. I have seen glimmers of it in men like John McCain and George Washington, but I have never personally met anyone with the depth of feeling that I have for my nation. It is more than a fondness. More than a respect. More than an admiration. It is LOVE!! Born of gratitude, compassion, and vision; it is indestructible as diamond. It is tenacious, it is fierce, it births courage and valor.

Some mothers of boys try to dissuade their sons from joining the military and going to war. As much as I love my boys, I would not hesitate to sacrifice them for my country. I’ve given my entire life, sacrificed everything including my mental health, to raise my four boys to be the best men they can be. Still, some things are worth the ultimate sacrifice. “For Wakanda? Without question.” Nothing would make me more proud than to have my sons serve their country and mine, to safeguard the freedoms that I have benefited from all my life. If anything that I have or anything that I might have in the future would serve my nation, I would offer it freely.

Some may say that my nation does not deserve this kind of love. This love is not about America, it is about me. Great nations don’t make great people; history has shown this ad nauseum. Great people build great nations. Great people have great love.

Last night I couldn’t sleep. Plagued by anxiety kept checking the news for the release of the full Mueller report. There are two things that fueled my anxiety to a fever pitch. One is the stark divisions I see. Over fifty percent of American’s believe the Trump campaign colluded with Russia even after the Attorney General released a summary clearing the President of collusion.

On Twitter I have seen four groups of people. First, most establishment Republicans and legal minds have accepted General Barr as his word. There was no collusion and they are ready to move on. Second, most Democrats and intelligence experts are reserving judgement until the report is released. I fall into this category. Third, many are being led by the President himself to claim complete exoneration and revenge upon those who started the investigation. Fourth, many are angry at what they see as a blatant cover-up, obstruction of justice, and treason that is being swept under the rug.

All four of these groups are looking toward the 2020 election as the only certain way to settle the matter of Donald Trump’s unfitness for office. Again, we are looking the Democrats. Only trouble is, the polls are showing that most Democrats don’t even really care about Mueller, collusion, or obstruction of justice. They care about health care. Health care.

This makes me so angry I could shoot fire from my eyeballs. I am going to be very direct right now to my friends on the left. YOU DON’T HAVE A RIGHT TO HEALTHCARE FROM THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT. In fact, you don’t have the right to an education, a job, a safety net, a pension from the federal government! You have to earn those things. A hundred years ago American’s understood that. We have created a country of lap dogs begging for scraps from the government banquet table. We are better than that! In the past your party could get away with being the party of handouts, but America needs more from you right now. You need to be the party of principle!

To my friends on the right, you don’t have the right to a supreme court that you agree with. You don’t have the right to force everybody else to come to heel just because you won a single Presidential election. You don’t have the right to force ANYONE to be loyal to this President. You don’t have the right to gaslight people by closing your eyes to the madness and blame everything on the Democrats, “who hate Trump.” That is unfair and you know it. Stop it!! Trump is an agent of chaos. He sows discord and contention everywhere he goes. He is not fit for office. If you don’t know that it is because you are uninformed. Period.

Now let me tell you what all American’s have a right to; right, left, and center, male and female, black and white, rich and poor.

First, we have a right to access to accurate information. Right now we have competing narratives that make no sense. Our free press is confused and reeling. They are being blocked from accessing the results of the Mueller investigation under the guise of national security. Our government is at war with itself, our media is at war with itself. No one can agree on anything because we are all swimming in a soup of lies and corruption. I have read two biographies of President Trump. I have studied him and read his Twitter feed. I’ve studied the man ever since he began his rise. He is first and foremost an agent of chaos and this is a time of unprecedented chaos. We have a right to access accurate information.

Second, we have a right to have leaders who are honest with us. Hyperbole, exaggeration, and flippant lying has become commonplace in our leaders. Our President lies to us daily about matters large and small. He has not been held accountable by his supporters. Their refusal to insist that Trump be honest with America is a violation of the rights of all Americans. We have the right to honest leaders.

Third, we have a right to equal treatment under the law. I am observing with increasing alarm that our justice system is not impartial. If a person has the money, they can hire not just one good lawyer, but teams of lawyers. Entire law firms operate more like mercenaries than agents of justice. They threaten, sue, bribe, and corrupt the system into allowing them to commit crimes with no fear of retribution. We have the right to equal enforcement of the laws.

If we, as Americans, choose to sell those rights for the mess of pottage, we will reap the consequences. I would rather die slowly of cancer without the money to treat it. I would rather watch my children die screaming, knowing that there was medication to save them that I can’t afford. I would rather all those things and more than to take healthcare from a government that deprives me of my rights to accurate information, honest leaders, and equal treatment under the law. We as Americans must demand more.

Please understand that my direct words are not meant as an attack on anyone. My love for my country compels me to speak out. Satan’s forces are gathering like storm clouds around us. It is time for us to awaken to the danger we are in and stand against the evils of our time. If we allow corruption and disinformation to become normalized, we will see our country fall. I can’t watch that happen without raising my voice even if it does little good.

As a child, I watched a lot of cartoons. When I got a little older, I started asking a lot of questions for which there were no satisfactory answers. Why were cats the good guys in some movies and the bad guys in others? In American Tale, the mice were the good guys and the cats were evil. In the Aristocats, the cats were good. In the Secret of Nihm, the rats were the good guys. In Lady and the Tramp, the rats were bad. It has taken me a long time-an embarrassingly long time now that I think about it- to learn the truth. Most things in the world are not good or bad, they just are.

Most children are just children, most cats are just cats, most are just rats. Teachers, police officers, politicians, businessmen; they are just people, not inherently good or inherently bad. As the ever wise Obiwan Kenobi taught young Luke, “The truths we cling to depend a great deal on our point of view.” Moral characteristics are projected about by people and often reveal more about their point of view than the people they judge.

So, what does all this have to do with politics? I’ve been thinking a lot about the Democratic Party. This is a big year for them. They will be choosing the path that will either lead to the healing and stabilization of our country, or to further injury. Not being a Democrat myself, I choose to watch from the sidelines and hope for the best. I believe the best hope for the future of my country is that a moderate, pragmatic Democrat will get the nomination and soundly defeat Trump.

On Twitter, I have come across many progressives who have made tentative friendships with people like me who have a conservative viewpoint, but oppose Trump. We have an uneasy alliance. Sometimes, these people see Trump as an opportunity. He is an unpopular president and what better way to get an extremist progressive into office than by running an extremist against Donald Trump? They seek to capitalize on the division Donald Trump has created to further their own agenda. They use the argument, “If you don’t vote for our candidate, you will get Donald Trump for four more years!” This argument didn’t work for me when people tried to use Hillary Clinton to force me to vote for Trump and it won’t work in 2020 either.

People like me have tried to suggest to our Democratic allies that a moderate centrist would be the safest option; someone who will gain a broad coalition of support from the vast majority of the country. This kind of President could do a lot to unify the country, inspire trust in those manipulated by Trump, and re-establish some of the norms that have been damaged by an authoritarian Presidential style that has battered our republic for what will be four years. I could see myself voting for a Democratic President and having much warmer feelings toward Democratic ideas and policies in the long term if they took this path. In response to sharing these thoughts, zealous progressive firebrands have responded, “Shut up! You aren’t even in our party. You guys elected Donald Trump. Sit down.” Sigh. So much for the enemy of my enemy…..

It is easy for people who lean left, to see what we might call unrighteous dominion as the solution to unrighteous dominion right now. There are many who distrust anyone with a conservative perspective as ignorant, racist, greedy, or any number of other unsavory things. The conservatives have similar biases against the left. That is part of what got us into this mess in the first place. Like the cartoons I watched as a child, the parties try to paint cats as bad, rats as good, and vice versa to support their narratives.  The truth is, we are mostly just Americans.

A wise man I happened to have voted for in 2016 reminded me of some of George Washington’s thoughts in his farewell address. I encourage all of my fellow Americans to read this inspired speech. This section about “party despotism” which we are seeing as extreme factions take over our two major parties. They attempt to force informed voters to ignore the faults in their candidates against their better judgments and insist upon “loyalty” even when the office holder is incompetent or dangerous to everyone. This spirit of party has badly infested the Republican Party under Donald Trump.

This spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from our nature, having its root in the strongest passions of the human mind. It exists under different shapes in all governments, more or less stifled, controlled, or repressed; but, in those of the popular form, it is seen in its greatest rankness, and is truly their worst enemy.

The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge, natural to party dissension, which in different ages and countries has perpetrated the most horrid enormities, is itself a frightful despotism. But this leads at length to a more formal and permanent despotism. The disorders and miseries which result gradually incline the minds of men to seek security and repose in the absolute power of an individual; and sooner or later the chief of some prevailing faction, more able or more fortunate than his competitors, turns this disposition to the purposes of his own elevation, on the ruins of public liberty.

George Washington’s Farewell Address

A few notes on this quote. First, he uses the phrase, “popular form.” He is referring specifically to populism. Populism is the kind of thing that we see when our leaders become more like entertainers or celebrities than public servants. We saw some of that with President Obama, but far more of it from Trump supporters. In my view, Trump’s obvious flaws require a more slavish devotion; a willingness to close one’s eyes to the facts under all circumstances lest you are tempted to find fault and fall into disloyalty. Populism has become an infection in both parties. One of the defining marks of populism is the dumbing down of the discourse, the focus on simple ideas and slogans, the demonization of “the top 3%,” foreign allies, foreign enemies, or racial or ethnic groups. “The white male,” “the illegal immigrant,” “the elites,” are all monikers given to dehumanize and scapegoat a segment of people.  If someone else is to blame for our problems, we can avoid painful introspection. Our leaders should seek to lead our nation by informing the citizenry with factual information and persuasive arguments. A quick perusal of Trump’s latest tweets and speeches shows none of this. Instead we see a tendency to appeal to base instincts and reinforce simplistic falsehoods. That is the mark of a populist.

Much is said online and in the media about increasing voter turnout. This is a noble goal, but a far better one, in my view, is to increase the number of informed voters. George Washington emphasized in his address that an educated citizenry is essential to our republic. This is less about historical facts or even scientific theory and more about the ability to think critically about the issues and be able to converse about them with opposing parties. This requires that we put our identity as Americans over the various factions which make up the population. It also assumes that we will speak respectfully and with restraint when we converse with one another. This foundational element of civility in our national politics may prove to be the most indispensable virtue of our time. It is all but disappearing.

“The unity of government which constitutes you one people is also now dear to you……that you should cherish a cordial, habitual, and immovable attachment to it; accustoming yourselves to think and speak of it as of the palladium of your political safety and prosperity; watching for its preservation with jealous anxiety; discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned; and indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together the various parts.

For this you have every inducement of sympathy and interest. Citizens, by birth or choice, of a common country, that country has a right to concentrate your affections. The name of American, which belongs to you in your national capacity, must always exalt the just pride of patriotism more than any appellation derived from local discriminations. With slight shades of difference, you have the same religion, manners, habits, and political principles. You have in a common cause fought and triumphed together; the independence and liberty you possess are the work of joint counsels, and joint efforts of common dangers, sufferings, and successes.”

Washington’s Farewell Address

Washington had a unique love for and commitment to the principles upon which our nation was founded. He had keen vision and insight into the perils which would threaten us. This government was founded on the idea that mankind could govern themselves, not be ruled by force and coercion. That idea is at risk as never before as each party flirts with and embraces coercion over persuasion, winning elections over winning trust, and appealing to the basest elements in our citizenry. Last election we saw the meddling of a hostile foreign government. This election, we must be on guard against foreign influence, especially from nations like Russia and China who seek to weaken our power on the global stage. Washington warned us about the dangers of foreign influences.

One other thing is worth mentioning. There is a drastic trend toward the marginalization of religion and religious ideas in our modern world. Jung wrote about the tendency of science to give a false sense of security and power to the human mind. We tend to think that we know more than we do and we get into trouble. The fact is, we need God. Whether or not we can prove his existence, we need him. As a culture, as a nation, as a world, humankind needs God. Our psyche is as dependent on the idea of God as our mortal body is on food; of this I have become convinced. George Washington and most of the founders of our nation agreed.

Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of patriotism, who should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. The mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connections with private and public felicity. Let it simply be asked: Where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investigation in courts of justice ? And let us with caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle.

It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of popular government.

George Washington’s Farewell Address

The fact that a large portion of our country’s religious leaders are ardent supporters of the President, who is possibly the most morally corrupt man to ever hold the office, is ominous in light of George Washington’s words. The wellbeing of our nation depends to a large extent on our religious commitment to truth and righteousness. Our unwillingness to hold our President to account for the damage he is doing to our Republic will have lasting consequences.

I take comfort that many times in our nation’s history, men and women have arisen to avert a disastrous course.  There have been times of real trouble like the Civil War, the rise of industrial titan tyrants, the threat of communism, and two World Wars.  More recently, there was the attempt of Richard Nixon to weaponize the CIA and the FBI to be his personal political henchmen.  In these times of great testing and trial, there have been heroes that have stood up, spoken out, acted with integrity, marched at the battlefront, sacrificed more than I could ever understand.  There have been countless self-interested masses that have lived and died, and they never quite understand that all that they have is because of those few.  I refuse to be one of those people.  I may never be a hero, but I can recognize heroism when I see it.

I see it in the faces of the leaders of the FBI that Trump fired because they chose loyalty to the constitution and the oath they swore over loyalty to a tyrant.  I see it in the Twitter feeds of the retired military and intelligence leaders whose clearances have been revoked in retaliation for expressing their valid and heartfelt concerns publicly.  I see in the steady and powerful resolve of women like Briget McCain who spoke truth to power today.  I’m sure her father is proud.  It isn’t easy to do the right thing, but it always matters.  No matter what the sacrifice, doing the right thing is always worth it.

America may not deserve these heroes, but we have them, and God be praised.  His mercy and blessings pour down from the heavens like rain upon the just and the unjust.  He reaches out to us unworthy sinners all the day long.  Darkest night does not hold back his light from us.  In our dark moments, America, our God has not forsaken us.  Let us not forsake Him!  Let us remember the God whom we made King when George Washington refused the crown.  The mighty shepherd! The meek and lowly Lord! Him alone will I trust.  Him alone will I swear loyalty to.  Blessed be his name!