Each Day Already is a Challenge

Some things I miss...

How strange. I was reading a column that Ann Coulter did about Rev. Jerry Falwell's life and death, and in it she mentioned the death of Milly Ivins earlier this year. I wondered how I missed that. Sure enough, I did a search and learned that she died on January 31, 2007 of breast cancer. She had been battling it on and off since about 1999.

When I worked at a mid-sized Texas newspaper, they published Molly's syndicated column. Boy did that cause folks to fuss. And to write letters to the editor. I remember after one guy wrote a heated letter to the editor, then called me on the phone about a half dozen times, I asked the managing editor, "I guess you enjoy the controversy?"

"Well, of course. That guy who threatened to stop his subscription might do that. But we'll probably gain three more because they've heard all about her last column. And we'll gain some advertisers because they see the fussin' and fightin' in the letters."

My boss once explained to me that the advertising department's job was to try to solicit new ads and to solicit bigger and more ads from existing advertisers. But he said the job of the newsroom was much more complex. We had to report the news in a way that would attract both readers and advertisers. Hmmm.

Some of Ivins' quotations:

About breast cancer: "Having breast cancer is massive amounts of no fun. First they mutilate you; then they poison you; then they burn you. I have been on blind dates better than that."

From her last column: "We are the people who run this country. We are the deciders. And every single day, every single one of us needs to step outside and take some action to help stop this war."

I didn't always - or maybe often - agree with Molly Ivins. But I did like that she got some of the Bible-thumpers, especially in Texas where her career began, to think at least for a minute. At the newspaper where I worked, we learned that we had lots of literate people in our county who were thrilled to comment on her columns. I guess that meant they were reading the newspaper every day, or at least her column. They also learned to write letters to the editor, and many even learned how to be succinct. Not me. Unless I'm being paid.

I have been reading a book about Easter - proving whether or not Jesus died and rose again. I don't have the book right here and with my fibro fog, I can't remember the title. Grrr. I'll mention that another time.

Anyway, the writer went to a number of different kinds of experts. Historians, for one.

I thought it was interesting that one said, that the fact that the Gospel has discrepancies is a good thing. The core facts are the same. But like with witnesses in court, if they told everything exactly 100% the same, wouldn't it look like they collaborated?

I was pondering that, and that fact that some would jump in there and say that if God was writing the Bible, how could there be discrepancies?

And that reminded me of something another Christian writer and I agreed upon just recently.

Sometimes God does guide our hand. Sometimes the writing flows so quickly, so succinctly , so flawlessly that it has to have had heavenly intervention. At those moments, the Christian writer goes back to read what he/she wrote and is in awe at the words.

Sometimes, though, God nudges us toward a story. Guidance is certainly given, especially if we continually seek it. But as people with our own free wills, sometimes the words are more ours than His.

Isn't it possible that those parts of the Gospels that are totally identical were totally authored by the Creator, with the Gospel writers being merely the instruments? And where some think there are discrepancies - where the writer's own personalities and life experiences and free will might have crept into the story, God was still there nudging and guiding, but with a lighter touch? And most certainly for a God reason.

As someone pointed out, if they - the guys named Matthew, Mark, Luke and John - wanted to write stories about Jesus, they probably would have changed things quite a bit. Like not having women see the risen Christ first. Not lowly women.

Remind me to check on that book title later...

This morning started like many others. I sat outside drinking in the peace that comes to me from talking with God while I'm listening to the birds.

But you know, last night I realized how different it is at night. While I was waiting for my son to finish getting ready for work, I sat on the porch and listened to the night sounds.

The sounds carried quite a distance last night. Far away, I heard two girls - young girls - screaming. I listened intently, but finally discerned that they were probably screaming because an older brother was teasing them. It was that kind of screaming.

Dogs heard them screaming, though. And dogs all around, in streets behind and in front of me, barked. Big and small dogs. I could tell by the sounds.

There's a fairly new baby on our street and the baby was crying, that newborn kind of cry. Next door, a 16 month old was crying because he was so tired that he couldn't get to sleep. That kind of cry.

Instead of birds (I guess it was too late for even night birds), I heard katydids. That screeching sound. (I looked it up and it's the males who make the sound. Figures. Quite irritating. )

There was so much going on that I have to admit I looked up into the sky to see if there was a full moon. Nope. Just a sliver of a moon. It was rather dark out there.

I suppose I should check on hubby. I hope he's getting some much needed rest. He has more aches and pains today than usual. But he wants to try tuning up the antique baby grand player piano in our living room. We have had a nibble, at least someone interested in seeing and hearing it. Y'all pray about that, okay? We really need to sell that piano. For two reasons. The money will help our financial situation. But it would really be nice to have a living room.



Charm is the ability to make someone think that both of you are wonderful. I wonder who said that. I found it listed as a quote in a few places, attributed to that famous "author unknown" guy. Wonder who he/she is???