From the article:
Dozens were killed in a brutal terrorist blast near children’s playground swings in Lahore, Pakistan, on Easter Sunday.
Pakistan’s Dawn newspaper reported that at least 65 people were killed and more than 300 injured in the suicide attack at Gulshan-i-Iqbal Park, where a large number of families were gathered on the holiday evening.
The attack was claimed by Tehreek-i-Taliban Pakistan Jamaatul Ahrar, a splinter group from the original Pakistani Taliban.
On Saturday, the Afghan Taliban issued a statement complaining that only Islamic holidays can be celebrated in Islamic countries, specifically grousing about Nowruz (Persian New Year) celebrations in Kabul the past week.
The Pakistani Taliban group said it targeted the family park to kill members of the country’s Christian community for celebrating Easter and to send a message to the country’s prime minister that “we will reach you.”
It can happen here. We’ve been very fortunate so far.
More at the title link, if you’re interested.
Here’s the caption:
An American evacuee punches a South Vietnamese man for a place on the last chopper out of the US embassy during the evacuation of Saigon in 1975.
I wonder if he thought about that man, what might have happened to him. If it kept him awake nights.
Or, maybe he didn’t.
Lots has happened. Let’s start with me being fired.
In June I told my boss, the worship pastor of the church I belong to, that I had started taking a class at a local technical college in an attempt to gain some job skills that might make it easier for me to find a full-time job. It meant I would no longer be able (at least as long as the class was in session) to stay late at the office and get things done. It also meant I was going to miss the first few choir rehearsals when the choir started back at the end of August. I assured him I’d have everything set up and ready, I just wouldn’t be in attendance.
FWIW — the woman who had this job before me wasn’t a member of the choir. She made sure everything was set up properly and then she went home. Different regime then.
He decided I needed to be gone. So near the end of August he called me into his office and informed me that I was done as of September 30th. That the administrative committee had decided to terminate my employment there on their (or his) schedule, rather than waiting for me to find a full-time job and give notice. He said they’d already decided who my replacement was going to be. As far as I know, they never advertised the position anywhere, they just picked this guy. I believe that’s illegal, but this crowd has never shown any interest in obeying any laws they find inconvenient, so it wasn’t surprising that they blithely bulldozed over that set of requirements.
He also informed me that I was responsible for training this guy.
I knew him. Had met him. He’s a drummer/keyboardist who’d been helping out with sound and lighting issues. Had worked several services. Young guy who lives near Charleston and does a lot of gigs in that area. I wondered how he was going to shoehorn us in, with all he already had going on. Not my problem, though.
So, when the time came to train him, I was told I’d have a couple weeks to do it in. Then it was 3 days. That’s 3 days of my time working there, which is 4 hours a day for 4 days a week. Although — he didn’t stay the whole time, had to be elsewhere, and blipped out the door when it suited him. So he didn’t get much in the way of training, as you can’t train someone when they aren’t, you know, actually present.
I had constructed two continuity books (there’s that military mind-set again). One was for the Singing Christmas Tree and the other was for the position in general. It was a good thing, because in the weeks following my forced departure he’s had to refer to them. Many times. Not that that’s stopped him, or my former boss, from texting me to ask me where things were located or how things got done.
Things aren’t going well in the worship ministry at the church. I say that because I can see things crumbling. Neither the worship pastor nor his assistant care anything about the choir. I knew that before, of course, after watching the worship pastor’s attitudes and demeanor and listening to the stuff that came out of his mouth, but that the new assistant really didn’t care either was something of a disappointment. He can’t even be bothered to make sure the mints are out for the choir rehearsal or for the service. That seems small, and it is. It’s also not difficult. And the fact that he can’t even be bothered to do that one, minuscule thing is very telling. One of the choir members told me she’d asked him about the mints and his response was that they weren’t in the budget.
Not in the budget. We’re talking, at most, $10 a month. I was reimbursed a couple times early in my tenure there, but then got tired of filling out the paperwork and just considered it a donation to the cause. And it’s not in the budget? We spend tens of thousands on lighting stuff and sound stuff and they can’t find $10 a month for mints?
Well, no. Because they don’t care.
We had our Christmas program, if you can call it that, on December 20th. No Tree this year, as there was no money for that. The choir was in the choir loft, and we sang 5 songs. There was a 15-piece orchestra (which the senior pastor referred to the previous week as a “full orchestra” — not sure what his criteria are, but in no sense is a 15-piece orchestra anything more than chamber variety).
The handbell choir played before the service, which was nice. First time they’ve been allowed to play in several years.
My new boss, at the job I’m working at now (temporary; it’s seasonal so I’m still looking for work) is a church member. Used to be a choir member but quit when the musically clueless sociopath was hired. He and his wife were in the balcony for that service. He said the orchestra drowned us out, they couldn’t hear us for most of the service, and when they could hear us at all they couldn’t understand anything we were singing. So the orchestra wasn’t set up properly and the choir was insufficiently miked. Interesting, given that this new assistant is supposed to be some sort of sound and lighting genius.
Compared to the Singing Christmas Tree, the program was minimal. There was no drama involved and none of the children were included. No sets. No story. Just music and scripture.
Which brings me to the other thing that happened. The new worship assistant (that’s what they’re calling him — rather than just music assistant — and I’ve also been told they’re paying him twice what they paid me) was up in the balcony running the sound board. He was dressed in a ball cap and T-shirt with his belly hanging out, according to my boss, and talked (to whom I have no idea) throughout the service. Even while the preaching was going on.
So, the lack of professionalism is considerable. As is the continued contempt for the choir and church members.
Another thing that isn’t happening is communication. The spiffy on-line web-based management program the church is paying for is supposed to make communicating with everyone very easy. For some reason, communication has stopped. It isn’t just me; I’ve spoken to other choir members and they aren’t in the loop on anything either. This is pretty basic stuff, too. The assistant can keep everybody in the loop while parked in a cushioned chair in climate-controlled comfort. And if they’re paying him twice what they paid me, he should be doing it.
Although his work ethic is a bit different from mine. He’s responded to some requests for assistance with, “That’s not my job.”
So, given that God is in control and is well aware of what’s happening, and knew it was going to happen even before any of us were born, and knows exactly how it’s going to turn out, He’s got a reason for it all. What it is I cannot even imagine.
The musically clueless sociopath aka worship pastor — which I believe I will refer to from here on out as MCSAWP (“McSawp” — heh™), has been a bit tetchy of late, too. During the last-minute rehearsal for the Christmas program as we were in the choir loft, when asked a question by a choir member regarding the monitor we were supposed to be hearing the piano and ourselves through, yelled at her. Then he turned around and yelled at his assistant up in the balcony.
During Singing Christmas Trees in years past, when my boss was the fellow who was the interim worship leader for about 3 years was in charge, as much pressure as he had to deal with he never but never yelled at us. He’d give us the hairy eyeball occasionally, but he never yelled. And this Christmas program was, as I said earlier, minimal. Compared to a Singing Christmas Tree it was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
The MCSAWP can’t handle pressure. Not without losing his cool. He stalked by his quartet singers last Sunday, the 27th, scowling at the floor. Not a word to anyone. Not hello, good morning, go to hell, nothing.
The previous guy you can’t get within 50 yards of without him crowing, “Hey!” at you gleefully and running up to give you a hug.
But he loved us. The MCSAWP loves only himself.
God help us. I’m out of the middle of it, and I’m glad. I know God shifted me out of there to protect me from what is happening, but I wish He’d protect the church from it too, because this church has had a history in the past several years of very painful events involving pastors and other leadership. I know God has the best plan, but I wish it didn’t involve hurting so many people.
It’s going to turn out all right. Somehow. I know that too. I just can’t see how. Good thing I’m not in charge of anything, isn’t it?
Info found here:
Amidst the frenzy of the New York Stock Exchange, Michael Beekman, 39, was a rare figure of calm. His job was righting errors from the previous day’s trading. He might spend a work day with a trader or two, explaining how they had actually lost hundreds of thousands of dollars on trades they had thought were profitable. “A kill-the-messenger job,” said John Furman, a co-worker at LaBranche & Company.
But Mr. Beekman would walk across the trading floor without hurrying and speak in a low voice. “He would research something until he knew it completely,” said Mr. Furman. “He was very organized, with his little notes all lined up. When he presented the information, people knew he was right and so they never were angry with him.”
He lived a calm and orderly life in Staten Island, too, said Theodora, his wife. He spent most of his off-duty time with her and their two children — Michael, 10, and Theresa, 8. If he went golfing, he would take his son. Occasionally he would disappear for a while — and turn up at his sister-in-law’s house, playing with her toddlers.
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on December 4, 2001.
From September11victims.com (the link no longer works, sorry):
Michael Kearns, posted 11/19/2002 in a tribute:
I had the honor and the privilege to work with Brian as a member of the NYPD in the 110th precinct in the late 80’s. It was always comforting to know that when there was a problem and you called for back up, Brian was there ready to help in any way he could. He was a great cop and an even better person. I was shocked and saddened when I first saw his photo as one of the missing from that tragic day. You and your family will always be in my prayers. May God bless your soul.
Brian Wall (ret. nypd-esu), posted 2/18/2004:
I met Brian while teaching the NYPD-ESU specialized training school. Brian’s dream came true. He made it into ESU and worked hard in the school. Brian made the school more enjoyable with his big smile and great sense of humor. Brian was a team player and was the first to volunteer for any task. Upon graduation he was assigned to ESU – Truck # 1 in lower Manhattan. He was well liked there and was doing a great job. I don’t think Brian would have had it any other way. He knew the dangers, but wanted to be there anyway. The only cosolation [sic] I can think of is that Brian Died doing what he wanted most and that was be in ESU and helping his fellow man. God Bless Brian McDonnell.
From NYCPBA.org (that link no longer works either, sorry):
Police Officer Brian G. McDonnell, 38, was appointed to the NYPD on January 20, 1987, and began his career on patrol in Neighborhood Stabilization Unit 3. He took a brief leave of absence to join the police department in Tucson, Arizona, but was reappointed to the NYPD on October 16, 1990.
Prior to being assigned to ESU, he worked in the 106 and 110 Precincts, as well as the Narcotics Division and Patrol Borough Queens South Task force. Veteran of the United States Army, he served in the 82nd Airborne Division, and was also a graduate of the State University of New York at Farmingdale. His hobbies included power lifting, swimming, diving, cooking, bicycling, soccer, auto repair, and the martial arts.
He is survived by his wife Margaret; children Katie and Thomas: mother Ann; sister Alicia; and brothers Kevin and Robert.
From an article by Newsday.com staff writer Leonard Levitt (from NYCPBA.org):
The bells of St. Patrick’s Cathedral began to peal at precisely 10 a.m. Friday. Down Fifth Avenue — which was closed to traffic — appeared a procession of the motorcycles, two abreast, followed by a dozen Emergency Service trucks. Then came the muffled drum roll of the bagpipers. They stopped outside the church as the family of police officer Brian McDonnell arrived.
McDonnell, 38, who died in the World Trade Center attacks, was one of three officers memorialized Friday in services in the city and on Long Island.
Police officer Walter Weaver, like McDonnell, a member of the elite Emergency Service Unit, was remembered at the Holy Family Church in Hicksville, and Det. Claude Richards of the bomb squad was recalled at a service at St. Raphael’s Church in East Meadow. Saturday, police officer Paul Talty will be memorialized at St. Francis Church in Wantagh.
At St. Patrick’s Friday, the church in which McDonnell was married 12 years before, the Rev. Michael McHugh said people have asked, “Where was God that day?”
He answered, “God was in those brave men and women who ran in when others ran out.” Of McDonnell, McHugh said, “He was in the [New York] Post yesterday. He got Fifth Avenue closed down today. I think he’d love it.”
McDonnell’s wife, Maggie, spoke of her husband’s pride in his children, in his Irish heritage and in his career. She described how her husband became a police officer in 1987 after serving in the 82nd Airborne unit, then in 1990 moved to Tucson, Ariz., to join its police department. That July, she said, he returned, “realizing he had left his heart in New York City.”
After several attempts, she continued, he was accepted last year into the Emergency Service Unit.
“What we started together, I must finish alone,” she said. “What keeps me going is your love of life. Goodbye my love, the man of my dreams. … I am so very proud to call you my husband, my best friend.”
First Deputy Commissioner Joe Dunne then spoke to McDonnell’s two children: Katie, born in 1993; and Tommy, born five years later. “Your daddy was a New York City cop,” Dunne said, “and boy, was he proud of that fact.”
He then told how McDonnell had been on a foot post at Carnegie Hall when Beverly Sills arrived in a taxi and tried to cut through the line of ticket holders. McDonnell stopped her.
“But I’m Beverly Sills the opera star,” Dunne related she told McDonnell.
“Well, I’m Brian McDonnell the cop. So please stand behind the ropes.”
Brian McDonnell was a member of the Emergency Service Unit Truck 1, stationed on East 21st Street in Manhattan. He was last seen heading into the south tower. “Brian was a cop’s cop,” Mrs. McDonnell said. “When people get in trouble they call the police; when the police get in trouble they call Emergency Services.”
But more important to him than the job were his children, Katie, 8, and Thomas, 3. When his daughter was born, he was there in the delivery room holding his wife’s hand, gently weeping.
A former Army paratrooper, Officer McDonnell, 38, was never decorated in his 15-year career because he never wrote himself up for an commendation. “He wasn’t showy,” his wife said. “It wasn’t his nature. He just wanted to help people.”
Once, he saw a little girl waving to him and the mother pulled her in the window and scolded her: ” ‘Don’t wave to him, police are bad,’ ” Mrs. McDonnell recalled. “It crushed him.” (The New York Times 12/15/2001)
Police officer Brian McDonnell wanted to change the world, and he’d do anything to save a life. A member of New York City’s emergency service unit, his squad was among the first to respond to the World Trade Center disaster Tuesday.
“He thought about others before himself,” said Glenn Gering, a close friend who grew up with McDonnell, 38, in Wantagh. “He wanted to change the world,” Gering said.
The Emergency Service Unit is made up of about 350 men and women who risk their lives to save others. Fourteen members of the unit are unaccounted for.
McDonnell, who has been a police officer for more than 10 years and was a member of the armed forces before that, is a devoted husband and father of two, Gering said.
McDonnell was supposed to go to Gering’s house tomorrow for cake and coffee. “Unfortunately, because of our schedules, we didn’t get together as often as we would have liked,” Gering said.
“I hope all of America will never forget this horrific act of terror,” Gering said in a letter to Newsday, and more importantly, never forget my friend, Brian McDonnell, an American hero.” (New York Newsday Victim Database 9/15/2001)
So, logging into WordPress just now, this banner across the top of the screen (click to embiggen):
Celebrations are happening everywhere. Gay marriage is legal, okay, and sanctioned by the government of the United States.
I have a very good friend who is gay. She’s probably the smartest person I know, and we’ve been friends for 33 years. When we were serving together she pulled my fat out of the fire more times than I want to tell you. She did this because she’s way smarter than I am, was a much better officer than I was, and because she’s my friend. I love her. I want her to be happy. She has a partner that she’s been with for many years, they’re very happy together. They support each other. They love each other. They’re both Christians, they go on mission trips and help people who can’t possibly repay them for all the blessings they bring.
I’m terrified she’s going to ask me where I stand on the gay marriage issue, although I expect she knows as she can see my Facebook posts and she knows what posts I “like” and that I’m a Christian who posts Bible verses pretty much every day and that I work for a church.
I want her to be happy.
But God is very clear on the marriage question. God is very clear about a lot of things. Marriage is between one man and one woman. Period. That’s all. It’s not vague, or complicated, or in a gray area, or fuzzy.
Is it fair? No, it isn’t. But life in this broken world is, among other things (painful, difficult, stressful, destructive, heart-breaking, and sometimes glorious), unfair.
Our present administration has made clear their contempt for Israel. They’ve led us away from our long-time ally, whose people are God’s Chosen. God blesses Israel, and blesses those who support her. He curses those who curse Israel. And even though the United States has enjoyed God’s blessings for over 200 years, that doesn’t mean He will continue to bless us even though we have turned away from Him. Our senior pastor has said in a sermon a few weeks ago (and several times in staff meetings, and probably in other meetings) that all indications are that God is withdrawing His hand from the United States.
In short, as a nation, we are hosed.
Having said that, He is also very much aware who His people are. He knows us. Each one, individually. And as nothing is impossible for God, He is very capable of continuing to bless and protect His children, even as the United States falls further and further from His favor. As a nation, we are going to pay heavily. As Christians, we are still protected by Him.
This is not to say that life is going to be easy. The Church is about to be changed and challenged. This should come as a surprise to no one who is at all familiar with scripture, especially Revelation. God is certainly surprised by none of this, He saw it coming, He knew what was going to happen and when it was going to happen. And he told us it was going to happen. Here in the United States the Church has been blessed and protected for over 200 years. We’ve had the ability to go to church and worship openly all this time. The Church has been considered something with which the government did not meddle.
That’s about to change. Smaller churches will get hammered the worst first. A gay couple walks in, wants to get married there. The church has to choose which law to follow — God’s? Or man’s? We all know, as Christians, which side we’re supposed to come down on. When man’s law conflicts with God’s law, God wins. Or He’s supposed to. So, the church says they’re very sorry, but we can’t marry you here. The gay couple files a complaint (with whom, I have no idea, but I’m sure there are groups preparing that process with great enthusiasm), and the church loses its tax-exempt status.
This will have the effect of causing churches, smaller ones first, then larger, to fold. Churches will be closing all over the place. The people who are in league with the forces of evil will celebrate, along with the forces of evil who are behind all this. Yes, they are. They’re finally getting rid of all those stick-in-the-mud Christians, oppressive nay-saying Bible-thumpers who won’t let people be who they are — whatever that means.
Satan is celebrating. I guess he better make the most of it, ’cause it ain’t gonna last. As Billy Graham has said, I’ve read the Bible, and God wins. This victory for the forces of evil is temporary, as is this world.
I know that every generation that has existed since Jesus walked the earth in human form has believed that they were the ones who were going to see His return. It seems, however, that recent events are accelerating us to that day. This is a good thing, as when He returns, all believers will go with Him. For us, all the bad stuff is over. We begin our eternity of problem-free living with Him. For others, it’s going to be horrific. The earth will see events that will be worse than anything that has ever happened in human history.
What that means is that we’re running out of time. There are people who have never heard the Word, or who have heard it and chosen to ignore it. When Jesus returns, they’ll be lost forever. And for most of them it won’t even be their fault. Even though we are surrounded by conclusive proof that God exists and created everything, some people have never had the chance to hear what He did for us, how much He loves us, how much He wants us to spend eternity with Him. And as He’s already done all the heavy lifting, and all we have to do is accept the gift, it’s easy.
As Christians, we’ve got to get busy. The Church is going to change in form; many of us will no longer have the buildings and spaces we’ve been blessed with, because what the government gives, it can take away. So we’ve got to find other ways to continue His work.
God help us.
I sent up a flare on Facebook, asking for recommendations for help with our screened porch fiasco. I used to sell real estate, and I know a lot of people who are still in that field, plus people who do renovation and construction work, plus they know people who do renovation and construction work. What this means is that I’m a moron. Instead of working the contacts I already had and knew I could trust, we hired a guy that we knew personally. Or thought we did.
I hate being stupid. I hate learning the hard way. Why do I insist on doing that, over and over and over?
Sheesh. Well, anyway, a guy I know, and have known for years, whose wife I used to sell real estate with, both of them very nice upstanding people, is coming over Thursday morning to take a look and give me an estimate. I’ve contacted another fellow, so maybe I can get 2 estimates and at least try to make an intelligent decision. My track record on that so far kinda stinks.
So, we’ll see. Really, I should have contacted my peeps in the first place. What was I thinking?!