Lori had planned a birthday party for her brother. She invited her parents and siblings. Her brother was traveling from another state and would arrive later than everyone else. As Lori and her sister Kelli decorated for the party, they began to argue. The issue was silly in retrospect, but at the time it got heated. As they raised their voices, their father entered the fray, taking the side of Lori's sister.
Through the years, Lori's father had often controlled them with physical punishment. Lori had grown up afraid of his anger. Now that she was an adult living on her own, her father still seemed threatening whenever he got angry and raised his voice. This day he also raised his hand as if to strike her. He didn't touch her, but it didn't matter. As thirty years of pent up resentment welled up inside of her, Lori went into survival mode...
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A HS.com friend who has family in China has recently responded in regards to the recent earthquake disaster:
What do God's principles of kindness and graciousness look like? Do we witness them in our home and workplace? How about on the playground or grocery store? One of the last places we might expect to see them is on an athletic field where competition and rivarly reign but that's exactly where they popped up just recently. The following story shows how true character can shine in unlikely places:
About forty years ago I went on a long hike, through hills absolutely unknown to tourists, in that very old region where the Alps penetrate into Provence. This region is bounded to the south-east and south by the middle course of the Durance, between Sisteron and Mirabeau; to the north by the upper course of the Drôme, from its source down to Die; to the west by the plains of Comtat Venaissin and the outskirts of Mont Ventoux. It includes all the northern part of the Département of Basses-Alpes, the south of Drôme and a little enclave of Vaucluse....jpg)
For a few years, I was able to pray regularly with a group of nuns who lived in North Minneapolis, and who served the needs of this inner city neighborhood. One of their rituals was called "Windsock Time." When the nuns mounted a colorful windsock on their porch, it told the children in the neighborhood that it was Windsock Time. This time included games, arts and crafts, story reading and a snack. One time, while we were playing a game in the front yard of the monastery, six police cars, with sirens blasting, came speeding into the neighborhood. We all stopped our play briefly to observe, but went right back to playing – it was just another drug bust in the inner city...
