tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51568845336055239732024-02-06T21:40:29.905-06:00I Am ScreamingAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14278222151591418161noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5156884533605523973.post-85741557675910921992011-06-11T07:46:00.000-05:002014-05-28T17:14:55.683-05:00Tragic Doesn't Mean Gross<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As the Casey Anthony trial continues to progress it amazes me at how captivating it is to the public. Anthropologically humans are an interesting specie. It seems that violence, bloodletting, and death sing to them an inescapable Siren's song. The deeper the depravity, the deeper human interest plunges. In the wild of nature death and decay are the ruthless laws of survival. But, aren't humans assumed to be further along in the developmental process that that? The Casey Anthony trial has, sadly, proven humans to be closer to their Serengeti dwelling neighbors than to some higher order of civility.<br />
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Don't misunderstand my thought. I'm not agonizing over news coverage of the trial. The tragic lose of a precious, young girl deservers attention. Young Caylee Anthony could have been the poster child for being cute and lovable. I'm not even agonizing over all the media attention per se. Since mid-2008 the Anthony family has been the subject and, often times, the guests of talk shows on all major networks. Casey and her parents, George and Cindy, have been scrutinized intensely by the media over the past three years. All in the pursuit of justice...right? Right?<br />
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Over the years I have had many close friends in law enforcement. Through them I know that the fast paced, action packed life of a law enforcement office as portrayed in television doesn't exist. The reality of investigative police work is that it is often times tedious and not at all the ratings magnetic network executives pay big bucks for. The same is true for protracted trials such as Casey Anthony's. This presents a real challenge for the media. What do you cover and what do you say when all there is to say has been said, leaving nothing original to say anymore? Rewind back to our anthropological roots and our thirst for the macabre.<br />
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This week the prosecution presented the crime scene photos of Caylee's remains. If you have ever seen crime scene photos you know the gruesome reality of death and violence. After being in the elements for five months in the Florida heat and humidity the process of decomposition had long been completed leaving nothing but skeletal remains of what was once a beautiful three year old. In the minds of most this defines tragedy. As the prosecution peels back the layers of its case against Casey Anthony, the evidence has become more and more gruesome. The myriad of details about this trial are very gruesome as is the case with most violent crime. But, where does that leave us as spectators and lookers on?<br />
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As a member of the community of humans living on this planet I am very interested in seeing Casey (assuming she is indeed found guilty) brought to justice. I'm not so interested in seeing the decayed bones of a three year old. Death is ugly. Death is brutal. Our souls were not created with death in mind. If you study the human body you'll discover there is no medical reason for our bodies to age, but we do and eventually our life is extinguished. Despite this we are not creatures of death. We are hard wired for life and living. Therefore, when we are confronted head on with death our minds are drawn irresistibly to its dark allure yet our souls are repulsed by its stench.<br />
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I have watched coverage of the trial. I have heard the talk shows, digested the comments. it is very reminiscent of O.J. Simpson's trial minus all the theatrical melodrama that became the norm in Judge Lance Ito's courtroom. Over the last thirty-six months Cindy and George Anthony have morphed, bending and twisting under the massive weight of grief in losing a granddaughter and the stress of dealing with the incessant media attention. It is in all this media attention that the real expanse of this tragedy gets lost.<br />
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The real tragedy is not only the lose of little Caylee. The real tragedy is the complete destruction of a family. Regardless of the outcome of this trial the Anthony family that existed will be no longer. Parents have lost a daughter. A daughter has lost her parents and all have lost a child. Perhaps this destruction had its genesis from within the family itself, but that does nothing to lessen the tragedy. So, does seeing and hearing all the gruesome details of a small child's death somehow heighten the reality of this tragedy? Does seeing blurred images of a skull hidden in a wooded area overgrown with brush and undergrowth make this death of Caylee more real? No, it doesn't. The only thing that can make this more realistic is the memory of holding a precious little girl tightly and hearing her heart beat. That is a memory only the Anthonys will ever be able to recall and we are the losers for it.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14278222151591418161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5156884533605523973.post-8509066685046641562011-05-11T15:43:00.000-05:002014-05-28T17:15:34.880-05:00CAPA...Graduation Day<br />
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If you take time to reall dig into the life and ministry of Christ you'll see an incredible diversity of ministry methods and opportunities. He spoke in large, prestigious synagogues and he preached to crowds on hillsides in the middle of nowhere. He ate in the homes of the rich and famous as well as on the beach by a campfire. Jesus had nothing, yet He had everything. Jesus met the needs of people where they existed. Diversity was the defining theme of Christ''s approach to touching hearts, replacing loneliness and despair with hope and purpose. Christ did it all and diversity was a common thread. The word diversity also defines another great ministry. It defines the Clergy And Police Alliance of the Fort Worth Police Department.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdaIC45otNGg_i194UxAp9ownCsJVKB4ml977dmj5mIxgnYbyOjmdLgP0ALYoYIjP1DQDOxN8QFvvjNT3fZF3nIZYQa0zEbUCXwit_rgsXtmueJoD-wY0FTqo6b0DWIzCb9NOpvWjzVT6/s1600/capalogo-150x147.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdaIC45otNGg_i194UxAp9ownCsJVKB4ml977dmj5mIxgnYbyOjmdLgP0ALYoYIjP1DQDOxN8QFvvjNT3fZF3nIZYQa0zEbUCXwit_rgsXtmueJoD-wY0FTqo6b0DWIzCb9NOpvWjzVT6/s320/capalogo-150x147.jpg" height="313" width="320" /></a><br />
The Clergy And Police Alliance, or CAPA, is an alliance of local pastors with the Fort Worth Police Department and have as its goal helping to inject calm into chaotic circumstances. CAPA performs a ministry under the guidance of the Fort Worth Police Department that is itself widely diverse in its scope and reach. Further, I am honored to have been accepted into CAPA and recently graduated the training program to become one of its newest members.<br />
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The concept of CAPA is really very simple. Since a CAPA member isn't an employee of the city of Fort Worth they can do and say things an officer can't. It isn't the job of CAPA to interrogate victims or perpetrators, or in any way act as a sworn officer. CAPA members are not trained law enforcement. They are, however, trained instruments of help and healing. CAPA members answer the call no matter the time of night or day to bring the calm of God's presence permeate those who are facing the hard realities of life. CAPA members also count building lasting relationships with officers themselves. To do this CAPA members are encouraged to spend as much time riding in patrol cars and being out on the street with officers as much as possible.<br />
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For me personally I can't say enough about the integrity and character of the men and women officers of the Fort Worth Police Department. There are about 1,500 sworn officers on the Fort Worth police force. In my years as a pastor I have worked closely with many law enforcement agencies and I am not naive enough to think all are angels or saints. But, I can say the incidents of officer crime or corruption are lower than just about any other jurisdiction of the same size. I am truly proud to have gotten to know the officers I do know. While my association with them may at times be dangerous, for me it's episodic, for them it's a way of life.<br />
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For more information about the CAPA program you can check the Fort Worth Police Department <a href="http://www.fortworthpd.com/Programs/capa.aspx" target="”_blank">web site</a>. The CAPA web site's home page is located <a href="http://www.clergyandpolicealliance.com/" target="”_blank">here.</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14278222151591418161noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5156884533605523973.post-20225647763385174652011-05-01T05:19:00.000-05:002012-07-03T12:14:44.635-05:00Pura Vida Costa RicaHere's a great video about Costa Rica. It came to me from Nidia. It's very nostalgic for me as I have been to many of the places featured in the video. Watch it and you'll quickly see why I am so proud of being an adopted Tico.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/58nbhSzFzZg?rel=0" width="425"></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14278222151591418161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5156884533605523973.post-41551885708313646972011-04-30T18:59:00.000-05:002014-06-03T15:28:34.170-05:00A Little Food For ThoughtI wonder, over the generations, who may have stood on this balcony. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERoJoSSehPqkGPS3JS2MOT0ml6njLZ9uf5oqLPeFblMUGPM6e2sKNuohZ2nh4VK48D2zDG7qBiGtO94zQH6wwvfL9n07oPY_chpJUJDY3WtV2XeG49lRidY24snn0jCjRroovLLDJVwxl/s1600/12-2013-03-09+15.22.17.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERoJoSSehPqkGPS3JS2MOT0ml6njLZ9uf5oqLPeFblMUGPM6e2sKNuohZ2nh4VK48D2zDG7qBiGtO94zQH6wwvfL9n07oPY_chpJUJDY3WtV2XeG49lRidY24snn0jCjRroovLLDJVwxl/s1600/12-2013-03-09+15.22.17.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14278222151591418161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5156884533605523973.post-12485927578829048572011-04-30T06:27:00.000-05:002012-07-03T11:04:31.665-05:00Lucy, you got some "splainin" to do!The 50's sitcom I Love Lucy was all about the Ricardos, Rick and Lucy. When one of Lucy's schemes would backfire Ricky, in his heavy Cuban accent, would shake his finger at Lucy and say, "Lucy, you got some 'splainin' to do!" This web site isn't a scheme but I do want to take a minute to "splain", or rather, explain what it's about.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzq378rgN0m2OCKtjW2d2JXrlEd2hMdl40lCbvCjmwgXPMxqRFvJjb-qlPTBuGOF-9avi-nhyphenhyphenhXDlLvRua8G0FJWhPNPKWWlSv8yyZUj-fxJ3CBTVQS5RZVu5bcxMAVWeiwgU561usG00J/s1600/Ricky-and-Lucy-150x150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzq378rgN0m2OCKtjW2d2JXrlEd2hMdl40lCbvCjmwgXPMxqRFvJjb-qlPTBuGOF-9avi-nhyphenhyphenhXDlLvRua8G0FJWhPNPKWWlSv8yyZUj-fxJ3CBTVQS5RZVu5bcxMAVWeiwgU561usG00J/s1600/Ricky-and-Lucy-150x150.jpg" /></a>I have hosted a blog site for some time now. <a href="http://www.muscularmadness.com/" target="_blank">Muscular Madness</a> was born out of my desire to give my creative mind an outlet wrapped around my interests and hobbys. Muscular Madness, as its name suggests, focused primarily on physical fitness and body building and had much of the same content as this site, but on a much different format. In many ways it was a direct reflection of my life as it was at that time. But, times change and so do our lives. Mine changed in a big way a little more than a year ago.<br />
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A little more than a year ago my Mom died. It's still difficult to even write the words but that is the inescapable reality that stares me in the face as a hallow, expressionless figure. February 13, 2010 was the day that changed my life. Despite that loss life continues and there are a myriad of things to live and be thankful for. However, I cannot deny that my focus has shifted and there has been a paradigm shift for me that has rattled me to the core.<br />
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This site, I Am Screaming, reflects that paradigm shift. I wanted a domain name that reflected how I felt and what I wanted to say. The emotions and sense of loss since Mom died has, at times, been overwhelming. One of the things I needed to do was give an outlet to my grief and emotions. Thus, you have what's before you.<br />
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The difference between this site and Muscular Madness is that the focus has shifted from the external to the internal. The areas that will receive most of my attention are Mom, Panic & Anxiety, and Thoughts. I Am Screaming will reflect a much deeper, more personal introspective revelation of who I am and what makes me what I am.<br />
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Please browse around. Leave comments, but mostly I want you to know that no matter what the storm is you may be facing at this moment there is hope and there are brighter days ahead.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14278222151591418161noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5156884533605523973.post-24725311326711889212010-05-09T07:41:00.000-05:002012-07-03T12:17:27.698-05:00Mother's Tribute<a href="http://www.muscularmadness.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Early-Morning-Mom.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-medium wp-image-442" height="201" src="http://www.muscularmadness.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Early-Morning-Mom-300x201.jpg" style="border: 2px solid black; margin: 10px;" title="Early Morning Mom" width="300" /></a>Today is Mother's Day. That's good and that's bad. The good is that all across the country millions of moms of all races, cultures, and religious beliefs are being taken to Lubys, given flowers, and told by smartly dressed children how appreciated they are. Or, at least I hope so. Because the bad is that I can't do any of that. Today should be a difficult day, but truthfully it's no different than yesterday or the day before. When the hole in your soul is big enough to contain every star in the galaxy what's a day make? Life's experiences make us all wiser and more appreciative of the things life offers us. Tragically, at the time those things seem small and of little value. It's only after they are gone do we fully know their worth. As I have gone through boxes of Mother's papers and mementos I have gained a much clearer insight into who she was. Not that I didn't know her before, but the window into her was polished and focused with more clarity. I was the apple of her eye and going through her things made me know that even more than I did. Only now have I fully realized the value, the irreplaceable worth she had.<br />
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Today is Mother's Day. It's the first of many that I will celebrate without having the one to celebrate with. As painful as that may be, it doesn't make me unique. It only makes me older, wiser. Age passes at a frantic pace, time passes even quicker. The fleeting ticks of the clock ore gathered by Old Man Time and formed into days, which, in turn, serve as the bricks of time that form weeks and years. The present now presents an opportunity to savor the little things that remain. Only now perhaps I'll esteem them with the value they deserve and the attention they demand. Through this I have gained a new found admiration for those who have preceded me in loosing a parent. It isn't easy even if it's all part of the natural ebb and flow if life.<br />
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Today is Mother's Day. I'll celebrate it by knowing Mom's always at the center of my heart. I will always recall the time her and John came to spend a few days with Nidia and me. As they were leaving we all stood outside the front door giving our goodbye hugs. As I hugged Mother I remember how small and fragile she felt in my arms. But, in that fragility was a woman I know to be tough as nails and strong willed. Even as her health began to fail her she never lost that spirit of fight and ruggedness. It was those qualities she imparted to me and used herself to protect me. She was and will always be my hero.<br />
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This video is restricted viewing on YouTube, although it can be freely viewed here. If you need to view it directly from YouTube contact me and I can email you the URL. This is the video tribute that was used at her funeral. I want to thank Bert Gritz of Cordry-Gritz Funeral Home for providing the copy.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14278222151591418161noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5156884533605523973.post-64159413296053250962010-02-28T05:36:00.000-06:002014-12-03T13:47:29.353-06:00Acorns and Dreams, Dante's Voyage<br />
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An acorn is food to some while to others a dream. A squirrel scurries across the meadow that glistens and ripples in the warm sunlight; a meadow bristling with life. The meadow is circled by towering oak trees, massive towers of timeless strength and endurance that rise above the mist. The squirrel is busy gathering food in the warmth before the cold winter sets in and snatches all the tiny acorns he can find. Returning to his borough, in his haste a stray acorn falls to the ground. A tiny acorn once destined to feed a family of squirrels has now become a dream, a dream of the forest. Through the cycle of seasons, time after time this same process creates new forest and new life. In Dante’s <em>Inferno </em>there is another “acorn” that falls to the ground. There is another source of change, of dreams becoming reality. In allegory, the squirrel represents Dante, the meadow represents Hades, and the acorns represent truth. So that before the cold winter of death claims Dante, by entering the <em>Inferno</em> he hopes to gather all the “acorns” of truth he can that will give him fuller meaning to this present life. These acorns fall into the soil of his being giving birth to new life and wisdom for Dante. Through his journeys chronicled in the <em>Inferno </em>Dante is able to gather truth, insight, and a clearer perception of justice. Dante grows as the mighty oaks that have their beginnings in a tiny acorn. However, just as in the forest, growth is not always easy or is the way of growth always marked with clarity.<br />
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Growth comes in many ways. There is growth of stature and growth of heart and soul. In the scheme of life that exists in the forest, growth comes by rain or by lightening. The rains come and water the soil. The soil, in turn, exudes to all the forest its life-giving energy. It is the rain that surrenders its store of energy that the sun imparts. But the clouds of life can also be clouds of destruction bearing lightening that burns and, for a time, destroys the forest. In this apparent irony of life and death growth seems lost. But without the cleansing the lightening brings the forest would soon be no more than mottled vines and clumps of course, withering grass. Dante experiences this same irony of life and death in the Circles of the <em>Inferno</em>. In Dante’s desire to grow as a human he learns growth comes in the pleasantries of life and in its pains as well. Through his life-long love, Beatrice, Dante grew by the pleasantries. Through the <em>Inferno</em> Dante grows by the pains. By the laws of the forest growth comes at the expense of a few to benefit the whole. In his voyage, guided by Virgil, Dante grows at the expense of his naivety and perhaps his innocence, but he grows in stature as a human soul. Dante’s voyage of learning creates a spiritual labyrinth of right and wrong. As Dante descends deeper and deeper into the hellish pit, at times justice seems prudent and proper; however, at other times justice seems twisted and motivated by human anger and despair. By this Dante learns that ultimately we all choose our own course in life. No one is responsible for the other, only for themselves. By this realization of absolute truth, Dante acquires more knowledge than perhaps he bargains for. By the timeless repetition of rubbing, the flesh becomes numb; likewise, by the timeless repetition of seeing the soul becomes blind. To this Dante is not immune.<br />
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As Dante’s expedition takes him to places never imagined he begins to see things truly macabre. The ghoulish sights and sounds that reverberate throughout the vast expanse of stench and decay chill his soul, and ultimately his heart. What once was an outrage to Dante becomes acceptable and even just. No more does Dante cry out at human pain and suffering as once he did. As Dante meets first one and than another that he knows, Dante begins to revel in their suffering in death because of the excesses they brandished about in life. One might be able to say Dante is jaded by his experiences and wanderings in the place of Hell and death. The oak tree grows to the reaches of the heavens, as it does it darkens the ground beneath it. Dante’s growth pushes him higher toward Heaven, yet darkens his soul. The book<em> Inferno</em> holds many incredibly unique experiences for Dante that change him. In the end, do those extraordinary experiences answer completely his compelling questions of life?<br />
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In his spiritual passage Dante follows the age-old process of learning to walk before running. Dante uses all the resources at his fingertips with which to learn. That learning is motivated by questions burning deep within Dante. Questions of life, justice, and eternity all rage in a great cyclonic storm within Dante’s soul. The fierceness of the storm whips and buffets Dante into enduring the insidiousness of the inner bowels of earth in his quest for answers. The easier part in life is to judge those who are in no need of a judge. These live their life in accordance with their own vices and avarice, not in accordance with what enriches humanity. Those who need no judge are careless with eternity giving no regard for the time when that Boatman will come, skimming across the putrid river Styx, to bestow upon them a new citizenship. Hence, their fate is easily determined. The easier part of life is to judge them in an orchestrated affair of parading about morals and wisdom as though they were a serpent born high upon a rod giving life to all who gaze upon them. This Dante puts aside, due to the storm within. Dante has a desire to learn to judge those who need a judge, who care about tomorrow and forever. In the <em>Inferno</em>, he desires the more difficult part in life, true wisdom given only by the great God of Heaven.<br />
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The squirrel, a great purveyor of dreams, is completely oblivious to what is around him. The timid squirrel is not indifferent, just ignorant, to the dreams he plants. Dante is not. Dante knows there is a much deeper depth to life than he has heretofore known and Dante wants to know more. To learn is to barter one commodity for another. We give our innocence for knowledge, our virtue for wisdom. In the scheme of the forest that translates into life. In the scheme of Dante’s journeys, it translates into a different sort of life . . . and love. A tiny acorn holds dreams big enough to fill a forest. A human soul holds dreams big enough to fill eternity.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14278222151591418161noreply@blogger.com1