9/11 My Thoughts
Every year on 9/11 I take time to recall the events that happened on that day. We see the images of the Twin Towers, and recall the sacrifice of the people trapped in them and of the lives of all the first responders who gave all in the performing of their duties. But 9/11 affected every American, no matter where you were, or what you were doing. I repost my memories of what I was doing on that day as my way of remembering, and honoring those that died, and those who live on, forever changed by that day.
Every generation has it’s defining moments. Those events where you can remember where you were and what you were doing at that time. I can remember three such events during my lifetime, the moon landing, the Challenger explosion,… 9/ 11. I know we all have our recollections of that day. Here are mine.
We were stationed at RAF Lakenheath, in England at the time. There were two other bases nearby and we were living in the housing units just outside of one of those bases. The circular street, called a close, had about twenty-five, neat brick houses surrounded by a fence. It was just outside of the main gate of RAF Feltwell, just outside of a village with the same name.
“G” was taking his nap and I turned on the TV to CNN. It was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon. I watched what I thought was a report about a terrible airline accident. Then, live on the TV I watched as a second airliner circled around and crashed into the South Tower. As I sat transfixed watching the events unfold, it still hadn’t sunk in that this was a deliberate attack. Then came the crash at the Pentagon. I know at some point during this time I must have prayed. Prayers for the people at the Pentagon, prayers for the safety of my family and my husband’s family even though they were thousands of miles from New York and DC. And prayers for the people trapped inside a house of horrors as I watched through the TV screen as the South Tower collapsed. I knew life on base was about to get very complicated. My mind turned to some mundane thoughts. “Did I have enough milk and bread? What about diapers? Heaven forbid I run out of diapers.
It was just after three pm, school had just gotten out and “A” came rushing through the kitchen door. “Mom, I left my back pack on the play ground and we have to go back and get it.” “We’ll have to hurry before they lock the gates” I told her. “Why would they lock the gates? “ She asked, unaware of what had just happened. “I’ll tell you later.” I knew that any minute the base would be going into Threatcon Delta and if the base was locked down we might be stuck there for hours. I grabbed “G” and buckled him into his stroller, grabbed my purse and a couple of diapers, just in case. We ran a block to the street that separated the houses from the main gate of the base. As I showed the guard my ID, I asked him how long we had before he would be locking down. He gave me a strange look and said he wasn’t closing the gate. Obviously he didn’t know yet. We ran to the playground, found the backpack, then ran the couple of blocks back to the gate. We crossed the street just as the guard pulled the big iron gates, that would block vehicles from coming on to the base, closed with a loud clang.
Why did we have to run? Why did they close the gates? How do you tell an eight-year-old child that we are at war and maybe in danger? I had to be straightforward. “A” would not accept a half-truth. We sat down and watched as the events continued to unfold on the TV. Some people thought that it was wrong to let a child see the coverage. But I have never lied to my children even when the news might be hard to bear. The phone rang. It was the hubs calling to say he would be home late. “I know,” I said. Then hung up the phone. I know at sometime during the evening I called my family. Even though I knew they were fine, I need to hear it from them, and “A” needed to know that they were OK.
The next morning, the gates to our housing unit were locked. In front of the pedestrian gate where the kids would meet the lollipop lady that helped them across the road, was a Humvee with a .50 caliber machine gun on top. For the next three days we were locked in. Only the active duty military members were allowed in or out on their way to and from work. No school, and very little information about what we were supposed to do. This was new territory for us military spouses. Some kept their blinds closed, others kept their lights off after dark. The BX was closed, the Commissary was closed. After a few days the walls began to close in. We decided it was safe to let our kids play outside. Under the watchful eyes of the guard, we walked by the gate. There on the other side of the street in front of the entrance to the base was a mound of flowers. Our English neighbors showed their support in so many ways. The Queen even ordered that “The Star Spangled Banner” be played at the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace. The only time another country has been so honored.
Slowly we settled in to what was now the “new normal”. The Humvee was replaced with a portable guard shack. The gates were open, but were filled with iron obstacles that resembled giant jacks. The kids having to show ID’s to the gate guard, the vehicle searches and the dogs became routine. As we once again returned to the villages we were often greeted with, “we’re so glad to see you out and about”. It wasn’t the greeting of shop owners, glad for the returning business; it was the kind of greeting you would give a friend who was finally outside after recovering from a serious illness.
The whole experience was surreal. As I went about my normal routine, it seemed somehow inappropriate to do so. After so many had lost their life, it seemed wrong to go to the market, to go out to eat or to the pub, or go to London to do some Christmas shopping. But carry on we did, because to do otherwise, was to let the terrorists win.
My most poignant memory of that time did not happen on 9/11 or the days following. It came several months later. “A” was learning patriotic songs in music class. In her backpack I found a paper the music teacher had given them, and this was what she had doodled on the page.
The patriotism, the pride, the tribute of an eight-year-old girl. There is hope for this country after all.
That year, after the attacks, My children and I went home back to the States for Christmas. I remember that inspite of the heightened security everywhere, there was a sense of unity among the people. Nativity Scenes were everywhere, and there was no controversy over them. People stepped up to help their neighbors, and their politics didn’t matter. We all suffered as a nation and all came together to heal. We really need that spirit now. Let’s hope it doesn’t take another tragedy to get us there.
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Ubi Concordia Ibi Victoria
There are many reasons why Republicans lose races that should have been easily won. One of the main ones is the lack of unity among us. I’m not just talking about our elected representatives, I’m talking about us, the citizens that call ourselves “Conservatives”, and the pundits that express Conservative ideals to the masses. It seems that we have forgotten that our allegiance should be to our Constitution, and the principles of Conservatism, not individuals. We are divided around our favorite candidates and when they don’t quite live up to the higher standards and character that Conservatism demands, we make excuses for them instead of holding them accountable. We vilify the other candidates, tearing them down, regardless of how well they do or do not uphold Conservative principles in their voting records or private lives.
Democrats play the long game, we do not. They are united by their party’s platform and rally around it. They support any candidate that upholds that platform regardless of their personal character. The groom and coddle potential future candidates, only sacrificing them when that candidate’s actions suddenly become a liability to them, or because sacrificing that person serves the greater good of the party in some way.
Republicans play the short game, one election at a time. We go all in on one candidate even before the primaries and sacrifice the other candidates simply because they dared to run against the chosen son.
We need to remember the core principles of Conservatism: lower taxes, protecting life from cradle to grave, less government interference in our daily lives, believing in American exceptionalism, and knowing and upholding the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, all of it.
The ways in which we can hold the government accountable to these principles may be open for debate, but the principles are not, and we need to be identifying and training future candidates, not destroying them because they chose to run now.
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The Leftist Manifesto
I used to see this sign when I went on my afternoon walks. I had the same opinion of it that I have of those pestiferous “coexist” bumper stickers. The people who display these, while smug in their assumed moral superiority, are ignorant of basic human nature. Here is my response to this sign.
Kindness is everything.
While it is true that we could certainly be more considerate and compassionate toward others, what this country really needs is truth. Truth can be harsh and unkind, but an unkind truth will do more good than a kind deception. Instead of focusing on the unkindness of others and how we can get them to change, maybe we should be developing the strength of character it takes to hear a hard truth and learn from it.
Black live matter.
Well of course they do. ALL lives matter and recognizing that is in no way racist. However, elevating black lives over other lives is.
Women’s rights are human rights.
Every woman has the right to equal pay for equal work, but the so-called wage gap is a myth. Every woman has the right to be respected for her time, talents, and effort. Every woman has the right to bodily autonomy. However, the most important human right is the right to life. And no one has the right to take the life of another human being simply because the existence of that person is embarrassing, expensive, inconvenient, or emotionally distressing. No matter what stage of development that person has reached.
Love is love.
It’s not as simple as that. There are many different kinds of love. There is the love between a parent and a child. There is altruistic love that compels people to think of others before themselves. There is the love between siblings and the love between best friends. And there are other types of love. Each of these kinds of love are expressed in different ways. And a person with homosexual tendencies is capable of all these types of love. However, the only kind of love that is expressed though sexual intercourse is the love between a woman and a man joined in marriage. The bodies of a man and woman are designed for this type of love. While two men or two women are perfectly capable of pleasing each other sexually, they are physically incapable of marital intercourse or conceiving a child in that way.
Climate change is real.
I think most people would agree that the climate is changing. What is not settled science and is still open for discussion (or should be), is just how much climate change is the result of natural weather cycles and natural phenomena, and how much is truly man made. So far, the solutions put forth by climate alarmists may not even have any effect on the climate. They are based on computer models and computer models can be wrong. If we are going to destroy the economies of Western nations and subject billions of people to abject poverty, we should at least be certain that the solutions will, beyond the shadow of a doubt, have the desired effect on the climate. Of course, giving major polluters such as India and China a pass, will negate the sacrifices made by Europe and the United States.
No Human is illegal.
No human is made illegal merely by his or her existence. But people can choose to do illegal acts. Crossing over our borders without going through proper channels and having the proper paperwork is an illegal act. Since we are defined by our actions, referring to the people who choose to do this as “illegal aliens” or “illegal immigrants” is both grammatically and morally correct.
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Thank You for Your Service
I know this is a late post for Veteran’s Day, but that is because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to post this or not. I’ve thought all day about it and feel it must be said.
As the wife of a vet, it is gratifying to know that people appreciate my husband’s military career. It’s nice to see places offering discounts and hear people thanking him for his service. After the atrocious way our Vietnam veterans were treated when they came home, it good to see society attempting to right a terrible wrong.
I do have to wonder however, do these people really know just what they’re thanking a veteran for? There is certainly a debate to be had about politics of war, and the motivations of the politicians who commit our military to it. But at the very core, every war that the United States has fought, from the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, and even the unpopular wars of Vietnam and Iraq, were fought to attempt to free the world of tyranny. Whether it was from the tyranny of a king, a slave owner, a despot, or the evil scourge of Communism, the military members who fought these battles did so because of their belief in the individual rights our Constitution guarantees. Rights that are extended not just to US citizens, but to all human beings, whatever county they live in.
So, it seems somewhat ironic that many of the same people who are so eager to thank our veterans, are also eager to give up their rights. The very rights that were bought with the sacrifices our veterans made. You see, the real day to honor our veterans was not today, November 11, but last Tuesday, Election Day.
If you voted blue, you voted for their leftist ideology of Socialism and Communism. If you did that and then thanked a vet for his or her service, shame on you. How dare you thank our veterans and then spit on what they fought, and many died for. They fought for you, and they fought for me, and we owe them better than that.
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The Red Ripple
Early voting is upon us and all around me my fellow conservatives are placing all their hope in the epic “Red Wave” they are sure is coming. I am not so optimistic. As I drive around, running errands and such, I am utterly amazed by the number of “Beto (Robert Francis) O’Rourke” signs I see. This wouldn’t surprise me in town, but these are rural landowners. People with many acres of private property with horses and cows peacefully grazing and maybe an oil well or two pumping out the revenue that allows these people to pay the taxes on that property. This is a group that the left thoroughly despises, and yet they are voting left. It is astonishing to me that so many people can be gaslighted into voting against their own best interest, but the left is good at that. They are masters at manipulating people’s emotions. They shamelessly exploit grieving parents, and people in desperate situations. They purposely misrepresent Conservative platforms. And the Republicans let them get away with it. Leftist rhetoric and talking points can so easily be turned against them, but every election, Republicans drop the ball. They campaign using the same talking points and platitudes. They campaign as though politics is a game to them, meanwhile our rights and out way of life evaporates away. Even though Conservative ideology would make life better for all, and many Republicans are passionate about this, they do not come across as compassionate when it comes to selling these ideas. The left on the other hand, throws out their high-sounding euphemisms “reproductive care, gender affirming, your right to vote”, calling those who cross the border illegally “immigrants”, and the list goes on. Even though these politically correct phrases are truly disingenuous, the are effective and the Republicans need to take note. Our future is quite literally at stake
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What If?
Our country is in trouble. Many Christians feel that it is unseemly to engage in politics or express their opinions about the culture wars that are all around us. They feel that there is no need to worry about what’s going on in the world, it is just the “signs of the times” and besides, we will all be Raptured out before the shit really hits the fan. But what if you aren’t? This post is not meant to be a debate on the Biblical validity of the Rapture. But consider, what if the scriptures that are commonly used to validate a belief in the Rapture, are really just describing the Resurrection, the Rapture and the Return of Jesus, as one singular event in time that takes place after the Tribulation? What if you knew that you and your loved ones would have to live through the coming plagues, natural disasters, wars, economic collapse, and tyranny. Would that change the way you are relating to the world around you? Would you speak up for the unborn? Would you have the courage to speak out against the various sexual sins that are becoming mainstream? Would you change the way you shop, or the entertainment you consume? Would you take the time to research candidates and vote for the ones who stand for Biblical principles and truths? And what if we really humbled ourselves, prayed, fasted, and repented, G-d would come down and remove this judgment from us? There are numerous examples in scripture where a prophesy was changed, and judgement averted because G-d’s people humbled themselves and repented. What if by prayer and repentance, we could once again become a united, peaceful, and prosperous nation?
We have, for far too long, taken for granted the freedom of worship we have enjoyed in this country. We look with horror at other countries where people are actually being hunted down and killed for believing in Jesus. We meet securely in our home groups while others meet in secret fearing for their lives. We think those things could never happen here, while right under our noses, our freedoms are being eroded away. It is time for Christians to stand up, step up, and demand a seat at the table. That our voices are heard, and our views respected in the media, the theater, the school hall, city hall, the halls of Congress and the ballot box. It will take us humbling ourselves. It will take courage, it will take hard work, but we can turn this nation around.
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The Equality Act is Not What it Seems
This is one of the most dangerous pieces of legislation in the history of our county. It will make the LGBTQ community a protected class by erasing the Constitutionally protected rights of people who chose to live by their religious convictions. This ill-conceived legislation has already passed the House and will soon be up for a vote in the Senate. With Kamala Harris as the tie-breaker in the Senate, it is imperative that Democratic Senators understand that their support of this bill goes against the will of the majority of their constituents. Please write your Senators, especially if they are Democrats, and let them know that you do not support this bill. You can copy and use the letter I am sending, and edited version of it, or compose your own just please do not sit this one out. Here is a link to find who your Senators are and how to contact them.https://www.senate.gov/senators/senators-contact.htm
Here’s a copy of the letter I am sending
As one of your constituents, I am expressing my grave concern about the upcoming legislation called the Equality Act. Though well meaning, this overly broad, far reaching bill would have an extremely detrimental effect on American society.
The bill ignores the medically proven differences between biological males and females, denying the level playing field created for women by Title 9. It places women in danger by forcing them to dress and use the bathroom with fully intact biological males. There is nothing in the equality act that would protect women from a man fraudulently claiming to identify as a woman solely to gain access to women’s changing and bathroom facilities in order to sexually assault them.
This bill would force American citizens of faith and faith base institutions, to violate their Constitutionally protected right to practice the tenets of their religion. It would force hospitals run by faith-based organizations to perform gender reassignment surgeries and treatments, in contradiction to the teachings of the religious organizations that run them. An unintended consequence of this ill-conceived law could leave some areas without adequate medical care because it would force faith based medical facilities to shutter their doors rather than violate the word of God. Individuals and businesses would be forced to ignore their beliefs and participate in celebrations and ceremonies that would violate those beliefs. Pastors would be forced to alter their sermons if they teach the Biblical ideals of marriage and family, or if they teach that homosexuality is sinful. Not only, is there nothing in the Equality Act to protect the Constitutional rights of people of faith, but the act seeks to deny the rights protected under the Religious Freedom Restoration Act of 1993.
The Equality Act places children in danger by denying parents the right to refuse to allow their children to undergo dangerous, life altering, irreversible gender reassignment treatments. The act also provides no protection for children whose parents allow them to undergo these treatments without absolute assurance that the child is truly suffering from gender dysphoria, and not just going through “a phase”.
The concept that the discrimination this bill attempts to eliminate, is the cause of the anxiety and suicidal tendencies of the LGBTQ community, is not definitively proven.
As a United States Senator, it is your responsibility to uphold your oath to support and defend the Construction of the United States, by voting no on the Equality Act.
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Prayer of Humility and Repentance
13 “When I shut up the heavens so that there is no rain, or command locusts to devour the land or send a plague among my people, 14 if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land. 15 Now my eyes will be open and my ears attentive to the prayers offered in this place. 2 chronicles 7:13-15 NIV
Like many other Christians I have quoted this scripture often this past year. It has been a long hard year and also like many Christians I have clung to the promise of G-d’s deliverance. I anticipated the election as culmination of that deliverance, that we would see the Holy Spirit move in an unmistakable and awesome way. Well, that’s what’s happening, just not in the way I had expected or hoped.
I do believe that G-d put President Trump in the White House to bring about a return of G-dly principles to this nation. However, Trump was just another tool in the Potter’s hands, and we lost sight of that. We came to treat Donald Trump, not as a deeply flawed and sinful human being who G-d could nevertheless anoint to lead our country, but as a role model, a champion, indeed, a savior. Instead of praying for Jesus to work on Trumps heart, to humble him, grant him wisdom and discernment. We made excuses for his behavior, and we imbued him with Christlike attributes that he didn’t possess.
It was indeed G-d’s intention that Trump win this election. Trump was anointed to have a second term, but we Christians blew it. Instead of looking to G-d alone for our deliverance, we asked G-d for a champion, instead of asking G-d for His deliverance, we asked for a Trump victory. We didn’t heed the Warnings of Proverbs 6:16-19. Trump indeed has haughty eyes, he hasn’t always been honest, and he does devise wicked schemes against those he views as disloyal. And we have been too quick rush into evil, to click and share things that fit our narrative instead of vetting it for truthfulness. We should have convicted our President and ourselves of these sins and prayed for a change in ours’s and the President’s hearts and minds. To seek a more Christlike countenance. Instead with our Trump Trains, our boat parades, and with massive rallies that defied common sense in the midst of a pandemic, we made an idol of Donald Trump. He is our golden calf. We looked on him as the savior of our country, instead of looking to the savior G-d has already sent us, Jesus Christ. And so, G-d has removed his anointing from him. If Joe Biden does indeed become President, don’t blame G-d for abandoning us, look in your own heart to see to whom your loyalty lies. G-d did not forsake us, we forsook Him.
I don’t believe it is too late to save this country from shroud of evil that will envelope this land if it turns socialist, but we must truly humble ourselves. Pray continually, fast, and repent from Idolatry. Don’t pray for Trump to win, pray for G-d Himself to reveal and purge the evil entities in our government. And please share this message. I don’t care if you credit me for it. This isn’t
for my glory, I too, am guilty of idolatry, but G-d’s Put it in your own words, but please spread this message of repentance to your Christian friends, your Pastors, to any Christian leaders you know, so that once again prayer rallies of repentance can be organized throughout this country. G-d alone is our only hope.
Blessed is the nation whose G-d is the Lord.
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Prayer Changes Things
It was great that President Trump declared last Sunday as a national day of prayer, but I have kind of felt led to share this idea. What if we as a nation set aside a specific time like maybe 9 or 10pm each evening to pray our country through this crisis. We can pray for wisdom and good judgment for our leaders, for the medical professionals on the front line of this fight. Pray for the small business owners and their employees that they may be sustained. Pray for healing for those afflicted and for safety for our loved ones. Basically whatever you feel led to pray for. I think there would be great power from the Lord if we praise him and lift each other up in one great unified voice. I must admit that over the weekend I gave in to the fear and panic, but now the Lord has given me a peace about it. We may not know what to do, the things the government is doing might help or make matters worse, but G-d is and will always be in control. We will get through this. It will be alright.
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9/11 My Thoughts
Every year on 9/11 I take time to recall the events that happened on that day. We see the images of the Twin Towers, and recall the sacrifice of the people trapped in them and of the lives of all the first responders who gave all in the performing of their duties. But 9/11 affected every American, no matter where you were, or what you were doing. I repost my memories of what I was doing on that day as my way of remembering, and honoring those that died, and those who live on, forever changed by that day.
Every generation has it’s defining moments. Those events where you can remember where you were and what you were doing at that time. I can remember three such events during my lifetime, the moon landing, the Challenger explosion,… 9/ 11. I know we all have our recollections of that day. Here are mine.
We were stationed at RAF Lakenheath, in England at the time. There were two other bases nearby and we were living in the housing units just outside of one of those bases. The circular street, called a close, had about twenty-five, neat brick houses surrounded by a fence. It was just outside of the main gate of RAF Feltwell, just outside of a village with the same name.
“G” was taking his nap and I turned on the TV to CNN. It was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon. I watched what I thought was a report about a terrible airline accident. Then, live on the TV I watched as a second airliner circled around and crashed into the South Tower. As I sat transfixed watching the events unfold, it still hadn’t sunk in that this was a deliberate attack. Then came the crash at the Pentagon. I know at some point during this time I must have prayed. Prayers for the people at the Pentagon, prayers for the safety of my family and my husband’s family even though they were thousands of miles from New York and DC. And prayers for the people trapped inside a house of horrors as I watched through the TV screen as the South Tower collapsed. I knew life on base was about to get very complicated. My mind turned to some mundane thoughts. “Did I have enough milk and bread? What about diapers? Heaven forbid I run out of diapers.
It was just after three pm, school had just gotten out and “A” came rushing through the kitchen door. “Mom, I left my back pack on the play ground and we have to go back and get it.” “We’ll have to hurry before they lock the gates” I told her. “Why would they lock the gates? “ She asked, unaware of what had just happened. “I’ll tell you later.” I knew that any minute the base would be going into Threatcon Delta and if the base was locked down we might be stuck there for hours. I grabbed “G” and buckled him into his stroller, grabbed my purse and a couple of diapers, just in case. We ran a block to the street that separated the houses from the main gate of the base. As I showed the guard my ID, I asked him how long we had before he would be locking down. He gave me a strange look and said he wasn’t closing the gate. Obviously he didn’t know yet. We ran to the playground, found the backpack, then ran the couple of blocks back to the gate. We crossed the street just as the guard pulled the big iron gates, that would block vehicles from coming on to the base, closed with a loud clang.
Why did we have to run? Why did they close the gates? How do you tell an eight-year-old child that we are at war and maybe in danger? I had to be straightforward. “A” would not accept a half-truth. We sat down and watched as the events continued to unfold on the TV. Some people thought that it was wrong to let a child see the coverage. But I have never lied to my children even when the news might be hard to bear. The phone rang. It was the hubs calling to say he would be home late. “I know,” I said. Then hung up the phone. I know at sometime during the evening I called my family. Even though I knew they were fine, I need to hear it from them, and “A” needed to know that they were OK.
The next morning, the gates to our housing unit were locked. In front of the pedestrian gate where the kids would meet the lollipop lady that helped them across the road, was a Humvee with a .50 caliber machine gun on top. For the next three days we were locked in. Only the active duty military members were allowed in or out on their way to and from work. No school, and very little information about what we were supposed to do. This was new territory for us military spouses. Some kept their blinds closed, others kept their lights off after dark. The BX was closed, the Commissary was closed. After a few days the walls began to close in. We decided it was safe to let our kids play outside. Under the watchful eyes of the guard, we walked by the gate. There on the other side of the street in front of the entrance to the base was a mound of flowers. Our English neighbors showed their support in so many ways. The Queen even ordered that “The Star Spangled Banner” be played at the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace. The only time another country has been so honored.
Slowly we settled in to what was now the “new normal”. The Humvee was replaced with a portable guard shack. The gates were open, but were filled with iron obstacles that resembled giant jacks. The kids having to show ID’s to the gate guard, the vehicle searches and the dogs became routine. As we once again returned to the villages we were often greeted with, “we’re so glad to see you out and about”. It wasn’t the greeting of shop owners, glad for the returning business; it was the kind of greeting you would give a friend who was finally outside after recovering from a serious illness.
The whole experience was surreal. As I went about my normal routine, it seemed somehow inappropriate to do so. After so many had lost their life, it seemed wrong to go to the market, to go out to eat or to the pub, or go to London to do some Christmas shopping. But carry on we did, because to do otherwise, was to let the terrorists win.
My most poignant memory of that time did not happen on 9/11 or the days following. It came several months later. “A” was learning patriotic songs in music class. In her backpack I found a paper the music teacher had given them, and this was what she had doodled on the page.
The patriotism, the pride, the tribute of an eight-year-old girl. There is hope for this country after all.
Observations and Opinions of a Middle Aged Housewife 