Destroying Our Girls- the Anti-Mary

Destruction of Middle School Girls

Lawrence Downes, attending a middle school 'program', writes "What surprised me, though, was how completely parents of even younger girls seem to have gotten in step with society’s march toward eroticized adolescence — either willingly or through abject surrender."

The essay is worth a careful read. He mentions a 'boy toy' mentality, invented and promoted by Madonna, one which Madonna even had printed on the front of her 5 year old daughter's first communion dress!

This horrible fruit of feminism has created a worse imprisonment for females than patriarchy ever did. From before the time a little one can talk, the messages on television and in music convince these innocents that their main purpose, their main goal in life, is to be sexually flaunted, used and abused, and that they have little or no value outside of that.

We see the results of this diabolical over-sexualization: broken families, sexually transmitted diseases, lonely people, rampant abortion, old people without children or family of any kind, euthanasia. The special role of caring, nurturing and love that is particularly the gift and blessing of the feminine is demeaned and destroyed, and the world along with it.

It was through Mary, pure, valuable, valued, and loving, that salvation came into our world. It is especially through women and girls that the Love, which is God, comes into the world. Corrupted and abused girls and women cannot easily bring this Love into our world which so desperately needs it.

The LIE is that these young girls will get something out of this. They will get nothing but pain, destroyed lives, incurable diseases, and a heavy burden of life-long regrets. No one has told them that they have within them the power to be well treated. No one has told them that the men who make the best partners, husbands and fathers will never want a wife that has lived that way. Only abusers want women like that, and a woman can be sure that such a man will abuse her children, her pets and all that she loves. This is not the way. Truth must shine on these precious ones.

I want my girls to have a future. They need to develop their minds, their talents, their special purpose in the world. They were born for an important reason. They will need to develop a stable life, a happy and loving home, in order to have a satisfying ife. We must all end the cycle of using and being used sexually.

War on Christmas

The war on Christmas is real, shows a squidoo site in the Catholic group. For now, this page shows that the war on Christmas is primarily verbal, with some mockery and even vandalism thrown in, but indeed, there are those who want to remove Christmas from our society in its Christian form. Example after excellent example demonstrates that it is NOT a figment of anyone's imagination: the war on Christmas is REAL.

One young woman, the Valedictorian of her class, was cut off in the middle of her speech. The speech was vetted by school administration prior to the event, with warnings. They had cut all the most important Christian references from it before she even arrived at the podium.

It is one of the instances where the snake is showing his tail, where in an institution of higher learning, the rights of the free speech drummed into the heads of all students, is abridged right at the peak moment of a student's achievement.

But the importance of the attack is clear: upon the very rights of speech guaranteed in our Constitution, Christians themselves are being silenced, by the power of the politically correct, whereas anyone espousing any view damaging to society or families is heralded as 'forward thinking.'

As Europe has gone, so America is headed: you can say anything you want, as long as it is one thing, about one agenda, about one viewpoint.

Indeed, as in Europe, it isn't only Christmas that is under siege, it is Christianity itself.

Spiritual Tsunami

When my father passed away, and it was time to choose his headstone (which would also be my brother's) I was compelled somehow to put a psalm there. "Deep is calling to deep by the roar of your cataracts. All your waves and breakers have washed over me." To articulate my meaning would be difficult, but no one asked anyway.

Deep (the soul) is calling to deep (God) by the roar of your cataracts: the noise of universal, sustaining grace.

All your waves and breakers have washed over me: all we have no control over washes over our lives.

Somehow the angst of our deepest soul calls out to God, whether we do or not in our bodies.

Spiritual Tsunami, Mark Mallet's posting on his blog (right) has clarified the matter for me quite well.

My grandparents, Dad's parents, were faithful in their family vocation and had many wonderful children. But in ONE GENERATION, that huge shift occurred, the Spiritual Tsunami's first wave slammed into our family. We have been wracked by wave after wave, until our families are a catastrophe without recovery before the next wave hits.

What does the good God expect from a child who was hit by a Tsunami they didn't even know was possible? When that child survives the first wave and tries to have a family, what does God expect from that child who got slammed by the second wave? The third one?

The undertow is coming. I know it now.

The Challenge of Re-Living Catholic

What makes some people step into life, living, understanding and being catholic, and others dropping such an inheritance? Of those who abandon their faith, at least for a time, what help made that change possible? An article today suggests that grandparents may make all the difference.

Somehow throughout my life, the Christmas season has become a season of peculiarly acute spiritual poverty for me. Gift giving is not much of a joy, excepting the rare oppportunity where I can give a gift of meaning rather than indulgence. There is no joy in shopping, no joy in decorating, indeed, no joy in a tree any longer. Family stresses, losses, and so forth, all contribute to this internal spiritual poverty.

Perhaps that's very appropriate for the Advent season. After many millennia of the pronounced absence of the living God, (a severe poverty of spirit), finally souls knew He was arriving- Emmanuel. A bright star of hope in a race exiled from the glorious universe. Spiritual poverty is, indeed, appropriate.

The bright star of Christmas past is my Grandmother. Somehow deep in my soul she still remains, playing Christmas piano while we gathered round singing, a simple evergreen with subdued lights and gently twinkling tinsel, homemade cookies and hand knitted mittens. Midnight Mass. Candles and song. Deep, deeply silent snow.

Inexplicably in those too-few experiences, Christmas lives within me even now. In some mysterious way, a cornerstone was laid in my soul, dusty from abandon all those years, true, but a foundation just the same. In those few short moments I knew I was important to my grandmother; I knew my soul meant so much to her. She didn't speak it, she wasn't much of a talker, at least to me. She gave it through the place I held in her heart. Its the one gift that still gives, that makes all the difference.