Political musings

Here's the thing, I don't really want to go off on a political rant. It seems kind of pointless and has been done before. I'm not sure what I hope to gain except to use this as a sounding board. I have a lot of thoughts regarding the American political and economic systems, but because of the adage not to discuss religion and politics, having intelligent conversations about them is next to impossible. So, in the absence of that, you get this: my thoughts.

Our political system doesn't give the everyman much of a voice in choosing their leaders. First of all, money wins elections. It's a fact no matter what level of politics. So, whoever raises the most money wins, which means whoever gives the most money has the best chance at electing their pet candidate. I think this carries through to once they are elected. Special interest groups have a much louder voice than the average American, especially if that interest group has money. Hand-in-hand with this goes a lack of accountability by the candidates towards their constituents. They want to keep their seat, and since money and power can all but guarantee that, whom do you think they will serve?

Secondly, the primaries in most states are determined by delegates rather than popular vote. At our caucus, only 2 people volunteered for the 2 slots for our district...not very democratic. They had already decided where to cast their vote, so the voice of those in their district didn't matter at all. Add to that the unpledged delegates, and by the time you get to the national convention, the popular vote counts for very little in choosing a candidate. The fact that our electoral college is set up so that a candidate can lose the popular vote and win the election must make those states that "don't matter" want to just throw in the towel. Similarly, in a red state, why would Democrats vote or vice versa if the state is already guaranteed to go the other way? Yes, we all need to be involved in the process, but when it seems to make so little difference, it's not any wonder so few are engaged. (I don't have a fix for this, by the way.)

The other major concern I have is that right now in America things are so far polarized that any conversation regarding politics has more of a chance of ending in name-calling than progress. Promises of change are valued more than actual policy because everyone is unhappy. I think a large part of this is that people have forgotten what the role of government is. Catholic social teaching stands on a few basic pillars centered around the dignity and rights of every human (not the "right" to a free education or to birth control, but the right to life, the right to work, to build a family and community, and to worship), as well as the responsibility of every human to care for the poor, the environment, and to give back to society. America has become a nation split between those that want to keep everything for themselves because I earned it, darnit, and those who want free handouts because life is hard and it's just not fair. Neither of these is realistic, but those are the platforms I see emerging, and it's scary.

The lack of a voice, the lack of candidate accountability, the inability to find middle ground, the deeply selfish attitudes of both parties--all of this makes me a little bit hopeless. But, as Fr. Riley said today, God will win. Even when it seems like darkness is everywhere, He can win. I need to believe that. We all need to believe that.

Our world needs God more than ever, but post-modernism has a disdain for and fear of anything that will challenge its comfort. We need to made a little bit uncomfortable. We need to seek common ground, to take our responsibilities seriously. If Catholic social teaching doesn't make you a bit uncomfortable, doesn't challenge you, then you should probably start your cause for sainthood. I know it challenges me. If Christians across the country took seriously those rights and responsibilities, I'd like to think we could actually right the ship.

Medical dictionary

This exchange happened in the urgent care recently:


Mom: He threw up bile yesterday.

Me: (doubting face) Was it fluorescent green or grass green?

Mom: (like I was crazy) No, clear.

So, now, my hand is forced. I must do the world a service in the form of an easy-to-read medical dictionary for the masses.

I give you the most commonly misused words by parents, which often lead to either unreasonable medical workup if we take you seriously, or—more likely—us not taking anything you say seriously.

Pay attention.

Bile—the fluid made in your liver, stored in your gallbladder, and released into the small intestine to digest fats. This means if you are truly throwing up bile, things are flowing backwards. That is bad. Fortunately, it’s also rare. Also, bile is DARK GREEN. The two weeks spent dissecting the abdomen in medical school turns all your gloves and tools green. Everything is green. It looks like the Naked Green Machine drink.

This is what bile looks like

              -therefore, clear? NOT bile. Yellow? NOT bile. Ecto-cooler? NOT bile. Snot colored? NOT bile.

NOT bile.

Fever—in an infant, 100.4 rectally or higher. Generally we use this number throughout childhood and adolescence (thankfully the rectal part goes away), although I was recently made aware that our own occupational health (based on AAFP literature) considers 100 a fever in adults. Good thing I don’t treat adults.

                -therefore, 99.1? NOT a fever. Felt really hot? NOT a fever. She normally runs low but was 98.6? NOT a fever (unless you have true hypothalamic dysfunction). I gave her motrin but she was still 100? NOT a fever.

High pain tolerance—this one is a trick question. Just don’t ever say this. Unless you once broke your tibia and walked three miles to get to medical care, or gnawed off your own arm to break free of a rock slide, no one cares. Trust me.

Lethargic—this one is tough, because Merriam-Webster and I might get into a fight about the real definition. Traditionally, it can be a synonym for lazy, sluggish, listless. In medicine, and in pediatrics specifically, “lethargic” means “I think this kid has meningitis”. It means nothing moves you, not even discomfort, not even your favorite cartoon, not even me trying to look in your ears. It’s not good. Please try to be more specific in what you are describing.

                -therefore, your child is less active than normal, but is still happily watching a movie? NOT lethargic. Your child is wanting to be held, but still throws a fit when you don’t let him have his toy? NOT lethargic. Your kid “just isn’t himself”? NOT lethargic.

That’s it. Easy, right? Now you can save yourself the humiliation of all the health care providers rolling their eyes at you, save your kid unnecessary testing, and practice saying what you actually mean. You’re welcome.

God's plan

We’ve all heard the story of the man stuck in the flood who prays for deliverance. He lets two rescue boats and a rescue helicopter pass by because “God will save me.” He succumbs to the flood and asks God at the gates why he wasn’t rescued. “I sent you a rescue three times!”

It’s tempting, to pray for something and try to intuit how God will answer, and it’s tempting to try to do as much for ourselves as we can. Another familiar saying: “Pray as though everything depends on God. Work as though everything depends on you.” But sometimes I feel like I’m working myself into a hole, at the expense of the first part of that saying. 

For me, when faced with the anxiety of a dilemma requiring both prayer and work, I tend to do everything in my power to affect the outcome, and then kind of throw it up into God’s hands and say, “Okay, your turn.” Not only do I think that’s probably the wrong order in which to do things, but it separates God’s work from our work. 

Instead, what if we pray without ceasing and also continue to labor without complaining, letting God work His will through us, in spite of us. What if every day we walk with confidence knowing the Good Shepherd will not let us go astray, and we ask only to be able to share His love and do His will, not get all the answers or see the whole path clearly. That’s what I want—to see the map. I want to know where I’m going and every step along the way, plus how long it’s going to take. God doesn’t work that way, because, as a great man just told me, “God is smart. We are not.” 

If I saw the path, I’m sure I would argue about the best route, the timing, the journey, even the destination. But if I just start walking, I get to experience God’s love every day. That is more than enough.

A Year of Wonders

Yes, I'm stealing that title from the book I just finished, but I think it's appropriate. In looking back, I completed 10 of the 15 things from my list last year (not surprisingly, the recurring commitments fell off, but I did clean my bathroom more often than I otherwise would have). I am sad I didn’t get to Coors Field, or any field for that matter except my flag football field (another 2 championships baby!) but I wouldn’t have traded the year I had. Here are some highlights:

1. Seven months and counting with an amazing man—God has truly blessed us and I’m excited for the year to come.
2. SUP’ed—Stand up paddleboarding. Didn’t even fall in. Bonus: got to see baby dolphins learning to fish.
   
3. Creative Writing Workshop—this pushed me and encouraged me. I loved it! Everyone should take more classes!
4. Rocked the Ugly Christmas Sweater in an epic way.
   
5. Camp Doc Episode 2—in which I learned to hammock, did a 13 mile hike, had Mass in the car wash parking lot, and did a lot of lightning protocol.
6. One award and another nomination at work. Don’t worry, just when I feel like I’m doing something right, a med student evaluation says, “Dr. Z was usually a great teacher, unless US Soccer was on.”
7. Speaking of which… Cheered the USWNT to World Cup victory (pretty sure it was all me)
8. Zombie target shooting with mom and dad. What? Our family is normal.
   
9. Watched “White Christmas” for the first time. Apparently this is a big deal. Who knew?
10. Trained as a Peer Supporter to be able to respond to adverse events at work.
11. Did my first (and second and third) liquor shot ever (not on the same night). I mean, it only took me a decade, but I felt like I was actually able to enjoy the experience instead of puking on the carpet.
    
12. Lit my birthday cake with a cautery loop. I have the best coworkers.
    
13. Puzzle room victory! Michelle wins for picking the lock.
    
14. Bartender’s choice at a speakeasy.
15. St. Louis trip—the zoo, Kelly’s graduation, MMMHops.
    

Not sure I can (or want to) come up with 16 things to do in 2016, but I do have some goals for sure. It’s going to be a big year.

1. The Camino—my goal is to go outside my comfort zone speaking Spanish, to live simply, and to enjoy the journey.
2. I want to continue to grow in love and holiness with A, who helps me be less selfish and more courageous. And yes, next year will probably involve some event planning, so there’s that…
3. I’m going to re-instate my letter-writing and new-recipe resolutions from last year. Can’t hurt to try.
4. One Rockies game. That’s it, just one. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?

 Happy New Year!!!

Again I say rejoice!

As we wind down Advent in preparation for the birth of Jesus, I wanted to reflect a little on joy. Joy is inherent to the season of Advent; the third Sunday of Advent is Gaudete (“Rejoice”) Sunday. The second reading that day was from Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, which is also known as the “Epistle of Joy” (shout-out Lanky Guys!). Writing from prison, Paul could have easily penned the “Epistle of Suffering” or the “Letter of Judgment,” but he doesn’t.

Instead, Paul writes “I…am praying always with joy”, “I shall continue to rejoice”, “I rejoice and share my joy with all of you”, and “Rejoice in the Lord always! I shall say it again: rejoice!”

What is it that gives him the ability to rejoice in such circumstances? Not in a superficial way or by wearing a mask for some secondary gain, but to have true, deep, abiding joy. Paul identifies over and over again that Christ is the source of this joy, and every other good thing, and that the more the Gospel is proclaimed, in any circumstance, the more cause there is for joy.

Do we live like this? I know I can’t speak for you, dear reader, but I know I don’t. I get embarrassingly bogged down in a very narrow "woe is me" worldview. I count my blessings, sure, but I would venture that the first word used to describe me is not "joyful". In confession last week, the priest reminded me that Advent is a time to let others see the JOY we have in the birth of our Savior, which was perhaps what led me down this path to begin with.

Most of my emotions are so short-lived that I can barely keep track of them, but I’ve felt that peace that comes when I’m resting in the Lord, the security in knowing I’m doing His will. And as many times as I’ve tried to take back the reins, I’ve laughed (or cried) as God shows me His way is better anyway. Take yesterday for example: I had been praying just that morning that God would use the sense of uneasiness I’d had lately to nudge me forward in a direction that would glorify Him. I wasn’t sure where my desolation was coming from, but it hung around clouding the air. I won’t go into all the details, but suffice it to say God brought about some answers in the least expected (and probably least desired by me) way. And so, despite my tears, I knew it was cause for rejoicing.

Every struggle we have in life is an opportunity to share the joy that Paul has in prison. Whatever happens, as long as we think on the things that are good and share the Gospel, we win. It doesn’t mean we’ll always be happy. Even Jesus cried, yelled, and chastised. But I don’t think He ever was without joy.

As we reflect on our Almighty God becoming a tiny, helpless newborn in order to bring us back to Him, may we receive the gift of His joy this Christmas. As we wait with longing for His return, may we rejoice in His victory, in our salvation.

Grateful

For a Church that is home no matter where I am, and a faith that gives me consolation and strength every day. For God’s constant presence in my life.

For a family that is all together in Colorado and actually gets along most of the time. For their constant support and love.

For a wonderful man that makes me a better person and helps me grow in holiness. For the opportunity to pursue my vocation, be challenged, and learn how to love better.

For growth and fulfillment in my job, for mostly healthy kids, and for financial stability.

For all my needs being met—a warm house, enough food on the table, my health, recreation—and much more.

For so many abundant blessings in my life.

I am grateful.

Calling names and being called

It has been said, pardon my language, that the worst thing you can call a man is a coward, and the worst thing you can call a woman is a whore. While you may be able to come up with a greater insult for a specific individual, it seems to be mostly true. It has no doubt been the start of many bar fights and cat fights. But why?

What is it about being called a coward that makes men raise their fists, even when they don’t respect the opinion of the offending party? What is it about being called a whore that makes women bristle, even when they know someone is just being catty? Why is that so much worse than being called stupid or fat or ugly or mean?

I may be reading too much into it, but I suspect it’s because those things go against the very nature of what it means to be a man or a woman. And it cuts to the very heart of our fallen nature. Hear me out.

If we’re to believe countless saints (and I’m inclined to), man (as a species, not a gender) is most fully alive when we become the people God has created us to be. If we remember back to the story of Genesis, we can get some idea of what that looks like.

When God created Adam, He “took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it.” (Gen 2:15). The word for “keep” here is the Hebrew shamar, the same word used when describing the covenant between God and Abraham and how priests would defend the temple. It means to guard over and protect. Then when God gives Adam the animals, and more importantly Eve, these come under his purview to shamar as well. So the responsibility and desire to protect and defend is ingrained in man (gender this time) from the beginning of creation.

What about women? Woman was created from Adam’s very side to be his “helpmate”, a word that I’m sure riles feminists everywhere. But the Hebrew word for helper here is ezer, a word mostly used to describe God in the Old Testament, as one who comes to the aid of, rather than as a subordinate, one who demonstrates power and strength, and therefore has the ability to help. “Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and clings to his wife, and they become one flesh” (Gen 2:24). From the very beginning, woman was made to give her strength and self to one man, as a visible sign of the creative and self-giving love of God, in whose image she was made.

Now it’s starting to make more sense why we get so worked up by the words coward and whore. They are contrary to our very nature. Not only that, but they remind us of original sin, of us turning our back on God, and I think on some level, even for nonreligious people, that feels wrong.

When the serpent came to Eve, he played on her insecurity that she couldn’t sit back and receive God’s love, but had to grasp it for herself. She had to give up on Adam’s providing for her and do things for herself, in a sense giving herself away to the most seductive bidder.

And where was Adam? Sure as heck not shamaring his wife, not protecting the garden like he was supposed to be doing. He let evil in, and it cost him paradise.

So now, in this culture where masculinity and femininity are under attack and seem to shift with the daily newsfeeds, no one really even knows what it means to be a man or a woman. Yet deep down, we must still have some idea, or those insults wouldn't hurt so much. We know, intuitively, at our core, that men are to protect and defend. Women, children, the truth, goodness, beauty, all of it. And when they don't, when they act cowardly, they are not being the men God calls them to be. They know it, and they hate being called out on it.

We also know, at our core, that women were created to receive love, to bring their special gifts to the service of their loved ones, to trust God to provide, and--if married--to trust our husbands as well. When we start grasping at love or desires ourselves, when we abandon our commitments for the sake of things that are "a delight to the eyes"(Gen 3:6), we lose our dignity as women. We are no longer able to be a "helpmate" to anyone; we lose our strength and power. And when someone accuses us of that, even in a superficial way, we feel it.

So more than not calling people unnecessary names, I hope you take away from this a renewed sense that it is possible to recover our greatness. It is possible to become the men and women God created us to be, and in doing that, we will be fully alive and bring glory to Him. We just have to go back to the beginning.