Skip to main content

Politik The Heart

In that short time between sleeping and waking, when the dawn just starts to peek through the trees in our bedroom window, is when I compose beautiful things in my head. Except for when they aren't beautiful, which sometimes happens too. But it doesn't matter, because at that time, whatever it is, it is honest.

Then the day breaks, and the day unfolds and as it does, my mind turns to other things. Exciting things like laundry and dinner. But underneath all that, is a faint flavor, an undertone of something that moved me; something that inspired me. Most often then not, that something usually has to do with my son.

Those of you who have stuck with this blog from the beginning, know that I don't always write about our faith, but I hope that the flavor of it has always been there.
What does it mean to believe in God? So many people don't. So many people do, so strongly and so wrongly that they cause destruction around them. How does one tread these waters? It's easier, and definitely safer not to have an opinion.

A day doesn't go by in which I hear this opinion or that; hundreds of different views and needs, each one proclaiming the right way. I'm not a scholar, or theologist. I am just a mom whose had some hard knocks. I'm not a politician and I can't claim to be a doctor. But sometimes, in the early hours of a new day, I feel moved. Moved by something much greater then just an opinion. Justin and I often argue about the originality of opinions: how far back can one trace a point of view, and when does it become solely your own? Perhaps only when it stops being a single point of view, and becomes faith. Something greater and more mysterious then the "self."

Lately we have all been inundated with opinions on this person and on that, judgments and assumptions, beliefs and values, all have come into play this past couple of months. It was a grueling and exhausting time where friends decided that because of differing opinions they could no longer continue their acquaintances. Anger and frustration simmered all around without any way of escape. So many things look wrong and consequently, hopeless. What shall we all do about it? What can we do?

I don't have the answers to our country's greater problems, but after my years of working with large animals, and my own children, I know the value of small achievements.  Every time we laugh, we change the world. Every time we love, we heal a wound. Every time we care, we change things. Every life we help nurture, becomes a beautiful bloom. And every time we pray, we save the world.

Leo was born hopeless, to parents completely paralyzed by terror. Not so different then our country eh?  But everyday that we loved and prayed and believed and just plain endured, was a day that changed our life for the better. There still is fear, and there still are trials: his seizures, delays, and our weakness mainly, and that will probably never change. But what changes is our ability to move. And to be moved without breaking. A lesson that I'm still trying to learn, but that's the point isn't it? As long as I'm trying, hoping, and believing, life is wonderful. And the fastest way to learn that lesson, is to learn it in the trenches of despair.

Don't blame God for hardships when there isn't anyone else to blame. God loves us too much to be a giant puppeteer in the sky. Instead rejoice in the miracle of life and love. When complaining about taxes in our country, remember Leo. If he was born anywhere else, he would be dead. I'm not being dramatic, this is reality. You have all payed for his life, as have we; payed and prayed, hoped and despaired. In the end we just existed, but we also accepted, and in our acceptance, we believed. Remember Leo, who is a gift that no science or policy can explain, label or diminish. There is nothing that makes any sense about our story, and many others, unless you have faith. So look to your own heart, and not to your neighbor, friend, or even president, because life is so much more then all that. Don't be afraid to be moved.


  1. Thanks for your message Anna. I hear where you're coming from. I like how you wrote, "Every time we laugh, we change the world. Every time we love, we heal a wound. Every time we care, we change things. Every life we help nurture, becomes a beautiful bloom." It's so simple and accessible.

  2. "the flavor of your faith" Mat. Anna and Fr.Justin - honestly, it makes me tremble. God bless you and keep you, I am so glad to know you both, and your sweet children.

    Mel Sakran


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Pharmaceutical Fallout

I'm sure you guys are wondering what's been up with the Lion this past week after our worrisome VEEG adventure.  To tell you the truth, I feel like I've been taking shots of Leo's drugs and consequently feel dull and numb and just plain depressed. That is now of course, two days ago I was running high on adrenalin and resembled a charging rhino. I'll tell you why: So after being put on his new drug, Trileptal, Leo definitely started having a cessation of seizure activity, unfortunately however, he also started having severe headaches, photophobia, inconsolable crying and then in the last couple of days, a rash on his thighs, face, and hands. Just as an FYI the word "rash" is a magic word that will open the doors of the medical castle faster and slicker than a trojan horse. It's true, one does not mess about with allergic reactions. He was seen by his neuro within the hour, and after some bullying and grilling from yours truly, the action plan was det…

Not Your Average Special

Leo. This kid. Honestly? Life with the lion can be quantified in two parts: into a simple 60/40 equation. The 40 being the happy normal parent feelings, and the 60 being sheer exhaustion, confusion, worry, and what-the-hell-is-it-now feelings.  All normal right? Just another day in parent land. Wrong. I have always been an advocate for down-playing the special neediness of special needs. Yeah, yeah we all think we are special in our own unique hardships, get over it. We all have crap in our lives to deal with. But I might be starting to change my outlook.  Just a bit. Case in point: Leo and consequently me and everyone else who lives with him, have now been dealing with daily seizures for well over a year. Ok it doesn't sound that bad, when you string the words together and type it out into a sentence; there are way more scary sentences out there like "your child has a terminal brain defect" sentence etc etc. That sounds way more scary than daily seizures. This I know f…

The Rhythm of Life

When I think of the word rhythm, what comes foremost to my mind is a picture of my grandpa's metronome. My grandpa, when he lived in Russia, was a fairly well known voice professor who dedicated his whole life to the perfection and instruction of the human voice. As long as the human in question was applying said voice to opera and only opera, that is. Opera, in my grandpa's mind, was the only music worth bothering with. All other music he condescendingly referred to as "the bebop" with a lot of Russian eye rolling and sighing. He taught me about rhythm by sticking his old wooden metronome on the edge of his piano, and commanded me to never take my eyes off it during the whole voice lesson. Since it was conveniently eye level to my ten year old self it was pretty easy to get completely mesmerized watching the little weighted metal stick swish side to side, side to side, side to side.  I'm thinking now, almost twenty years later, that it may have been part of gra…