Hello,
I do not even know what to write about anymore. Most of the time, my intent is to possibly make someone’s hard day a little brighter. That has become increasingly more difficult.
Our country once considered the “greatest nation”, the land of the free, has become so divided. If you remember nothing else, remember this, United we stand, divided we fall.
I did not watch the super bowl as that is not my thing. I have no idea who Bad Bunny is. That does not mean there is no room for him in my realm. I happened to flip to the channel that broadcast the super bowl right at half time. It did not bother me that Bad Bunny was singing in a different language. What bothered me was the crotch grabbing. Does anyone remember how outraged people were when Rosanne grabbed her crotch during a super bowl half time show? How outraged people were? Now we are accepting of crotch grabbing, I guess. Call me old-fashioned, if you have to grab that area that much, you are checking to make sure it is still there. You would not have to do that if you did not stick it or allow things to be stuck where they do not belong. Another issue, there were men grinding on men, women grinding on women and women grinding on men. It was not particular group that bothered me, it was the fact that anyone was grinding. I changed the channel. Most of you would have never known this tiny little fact, had I not told you. Why? Men and women past, present and future have sacrificed so that I can have the freedom to choose what I deem appropriate. Those men and women did not, do not, will not sacrifice so that I may push my free thinking onto someone else. I found the turning point halftime show much later on YouTube. I skipped through it just to see who the artists were, I did not actually watch it, I do not have to. That is the beauty of the freedom we are allotted from the sacrifices of others.
Now most of you know that one of my earliest blogs was referencing Charlie Kirk. I did not know anything about him prior to his death. That does not mean I did not make room for him. I grieved him, not for the stance he took because I had no idea what his stance was. I grieved for the son, father and husband who was senselessly murdered in front of our eyes. Renee Good, wow, I was disappointed in myself once I really thought about it. I had seen little snippets of the situation and thought wow, all she had to do is comply. Comply to what? Untrained thugs who have apparently been given the authority by someone to solve everything with lead. Comply, one of the most lethal words that infringes the most upon the freedom’s men and women of all ethnicity sacrifice, sacrificed and will sacrifice. Comply, a word to delete what our forefathers envisioned as freedom for our Country. I subconsciously made no room for Renee Good initially. Then Alex Pertti. Wow, just wow. Executed defending a woman. Executed for the world to see. A VA hospital ICU nurse, a veteran himself. A man who sacrificed, a man who cared for others who sacrificed for our freedoms. That took me right back to Renee Good and my realization that I had not allowed room for her. I grieved Renee as well as Alex for the same reasons I grieved Charlie. Are any of us truly safe?
I have people in my life from all walks of life. I choose to make room. I have the most liberal of all liberals as well as the most conservative you could imagine. I fall somewhere in the middle. We have different religious backgrounds and beliefs, I make room. I make room because that is a basic core value to humanity. To make room. I am very capable of agreeing to disagree. I would rather be able to agree to disagree than miss out on the relationship. I doubt that this was anything I was taught growing up. It is a simple concept that I choose to embrace. I am not sure why we are placing worth on the ethnicity of people. Check your family tree. Unless you are 100% native American, we are all immigrants. Do I agree that immigration needs reformed? Absolutely. Not because I feel I am better than someone else. My goodness, I highly doubt most of us could even pass the test required to be a United States Citizen.
I read an obituary the other day (I do that from time to time to make sure I am still alive). It genuinely brought tears to my eyes. I did not know the lady. However, by the end of the obituary, I felt as if I did. She was a first-generation immigrant. At a very young age, her family had fled their home country due to invasion from a communist country. They initially fled to Germany, where the family had to live in a camp. No home of their own, a camp. A camp with little to no food, eating black potatoes, access to water consisted of her having to lick the condensation off of windows to survive. They do not make them like this beautiful lady anymore. Her mother had told her to always keep her eyes on God. That piece of advice kept this incredible woman focused and persevering. She had all she needed in the Love of our Father. She later made her way on a boat from Germany to America. Seeing the Statue of Liberty come into sight, her elation was overflowing. An immigrant with a clear vision of the American Dream. She had survived the unimaginable. Her American Dream was right in front of her, a blank sheet of paper to write her vision. She created the most beautiful legacy. Not without struggle and sacrifice, however there was not an ounce of quit in her. Not in her home country, not in the German camp, certainly not while writing the story of her “American Dream”. A woman with a dream, a life lived deeply rooted in faith, an everlasting legacy left.
Stories such as these are exactly what this country was built on. Yet here we are, unwilling to make room for others to have that extreme elation at the sight of freedom.
I absolutely think that immigration needs reform. Along with many other programs in our country. The truth of the matter is that people were allowed to cross the borders. Yes, there is a right way and a wrong way. It has happened already at this point. Just as crossing has a right and a wrong way, I feel as if handling the situation has a right and a wrong way. This did not happen under just blue or red, this has happened for years and years under red and blue. I would imagine that there are men and women who are fleeing just the same as the woman from the obituary. Fleeing with their children in tow, with a hope and a prayer that they too can have a shot at the American Dream. Sometimes people are not afforded the opportunity to do it the right way. We are all children of God. You do not have to agree with me, that is part of the American Dream. You have to tolerate the space I take up just the same as I have to tolerate the space you take up.
Criminals come from all walks of life. It was a white man that lured the Buzzbee girl from Fisher’s Indiana and murdered her. She was 17, her entire life ahead of her. Ripped away from her family. Is he a better criminal because he is white?
Psalm 82:3-4 “Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked.”
Proverbs 31:8-9 “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.”
In closing, I am not trying to force my thoughts onto anyone. I am simply giving you a different perspective to look at. Who is it that picks the specialized crops that we eat? Yes, there are crops that we purchase that cannot be harvested by machines. Do you drink milk? Once upon a time, I hauled bulk milk from farm to dairy to be processed. Who do you think milk those cows in the larger farms? Who works in these processing plants? Maybe once things continue to hit the pocketbook, maybe then things will change. I choose to make room. I also choose to agree to disagree. Had I not shared with you these thoughts, you would have never known my position. I do not fall under a label of red or blue, right or left. I am me, unapologetically. Even if you choose not to try to see things from both sides of the coin, nothing changes on my end. I choose love over hate any day of the week. That is what our father tells us to do in the manual (the bible). I choose to make room; I am a descendant of immigrants.
Moral of the story, give to others what you expect to be given to you. Remember the first-generation immigrant that I spoke of earlier. Remember what your manual says. If you are going to take a stand, make it count!
Toodle-loo
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