Another Way @ Third Way Cafe (Third Way Media)

A Sucker Every Minute

Thu, 16 Jul 2009 07:00:00 EST

This is another one of those “How could she be so stupid?” columns wherein I reveal my gullibility. I share it for the greater good of public education.

The greed that wells up within us at the glimmer of “something for nothing” ebbs away at our souls if we’re not careful.

My problem is I am usually too kind to telemarketers. I must have received at least 15 calls to my work phone offering a “gift card” to Walmart or Walgreens or similar stores. I usually hung up. Mostly I couldn’t understand the person talking anyway and I am too busy at work to talk to telemarketers. I also put my work number on the do-not-call registry (more about that later).

But in a moment of weakness or curiosity, a quick talking, very easy to understand young woman started explaining what she was pushing, and that I could easily cancel ten minutes after I received the promotional package if only I would let them send it to me on approval, so to speak. And I would then be the recipient of a $100 gift card. In these tough times who can’t use a $100 gift card? I kept trying to smell out the rat but she had a good answer for every question I asked. She was so disarming and friendly and accommodating that I was finally convinced that it was simply a promotion for three different expert advisory services (legal, medical and financial) and I could cancel and keep the freebie. Of course I had to pay one $5 shipping charge but I thought, well, who can’t use a net gift of $95?

I started getting nervous two days later when I got a call from my credit card company asking me if I had authorized some charges, one for $5 and another for $6. I said I had authorized one charge but not the other, but why was the credit card company calling me about such small charges? Aha—because of where the charges originated. A small Caribbean island, she told me. I didn’t ask which one. It jived with other things I’d read about such “off shore” companies. So, after two shipping charges totaling $11, my $100 gift card would now be worth about $89. OK.

When I finally got the promotional packages and started looking into the so-called gift cards, it turned out they were rebate cards for which you had to buy many many items before you could add up rebates worth $100! I was spitting nails. Clearly mislead, I cancelled immediately, wiser and $11 poorer. I had asked the marketer all my questions but I didn’t even know what questions I should have asked. The greed that wells up within us at the glimmer of “something for nothing” ebbs away at our souls if we’re not careful. “The love of money is the root of all evil,” said St. Paul in 1 Timothy 6:10.

In a different telephone scam, one day at home I had two calls from the same company within ten minutes when I was expecting an important business call.

You’ve had this kind of robocall: “Your car warranty is about to expire and we’ll close the file if we don’t hear from you immediately” or some such.

If you ask the live person that comes on the line which of your cars their call is concerning, they ask you to supply that information. Don’t ever do that.

So on that evening when the above happened twice in ten minutes, I lit into the guy. “Why are we even getting these? We are on the do-not-call list.”

The young man on the other end of the line responded with a decided smirk in his voice, “Isn’t that awesome?”

I said, “What’d you say?”

“Isn’t that awesome?” he repeated. I hung up. That was too polite. I should have blown a whistle. I should have burst out crying.

I looked up this scam online and found another victim who told the telemarketer that he was on the do-not-call list. The caller laughed and said, “How is that working for you?”

Then we heard on the news how these calling machines were also dialing 911 switchboards about the car warranties. Which got some bad attention for them. It was about time. For now, the “car warranty” calls have ceased for us.

Now I read that Facebook users, especially we babyboomer types who’ve been joining the social networking Web sites in droves this past year, are getting scammed by hackers who go into our profiles, find all of the personal information people post there about themselves and their families and where they went to high school, (mother’s maiden name, etc.) and then use the information to access other “secure” accounts. Or they post false messages as a “friend” stranded in Europe needing $1,000.

I’ll try not to fall for that one. New technologies mean ever newer ways to fall for the slick peddler pushing the latest tonic. Let the consumer beware. Or if you have $11 to spare, send it my way.

Share your scam outrage or story at www.thirdway.com/aw .

by Melodie Davis
Mennonite Media

Melodie Davis, staff writer for Mennonite Media, is married and the mother of three children. She is the author of Why Didn't I Just Raise Radishes? and seven other books. Her column, "Another Way", also appears in newspapers in the U.S. and Canada syndicated by Globe Syndicate.

Are You Lukewarm?

Thu, 9 Jul 2009 07:00:00 EST

Eighth-grader Kavya Shivshankar won the Scripps Spelling Bee contest in Washington, D.C. last month on an interesting, good old biblical word: “Laodicean.” If you instantly knew what it meant and thought of the “lukewarm” Revelation connection, you would qualify for at least the first round of a Biblical Literacy Bee, if there were such a thing.

I’d rather have them singing a harmless (and religious) “Silent Night” than texting nude pictures of themselves. But there’s no going back to the 50’s.

I wondered if Kavya knew the word or if she just got lucky. (It is also the name of a novel by Thomas Hardy.) Laodicea was a city where the residents were not passionate about their beliefs and therefore were condemned. They were told they were about to be “spit out” because they were lukewarm: neither hot nor cold. They were encouraged to become earnest; we would say passionate.

The instant biblical connection reminded me of one of my favorite books a number of years ago called Growing Up Born Again: A Whimsical Look at the Blessings and Tribulations of Growing Up Born Again (Fleming Revell, 1987). Those of us who grew up in the 50s and 60s in traditional Christian churches in North America probably experienced one or more of the following similar cultural connections (ideas adapted from above book, Growing up Born Again):

Flannelgraph stories
A free trip to church camp after memorizing so many Bible verses
Turning around in your bench at church and kneeling to pray, and being struck by what the bench smelled like
A father who doesn’t smoke, drink beer, or ever go fishing on Sundays
A mother who doesn’t wear slacks, and if she wears lipstick to church, dabs most of it away on a Kleenex folded in half
Parents who thought birth control was a communist plot (everything was a communist plot); therefore you probably had three or more siblings (a quiver full).
A “Sallman’s” head of Christ piece of artwork hangs in your living room
A large bulletin board spans one wall of the family’s breakfast nook and every inch of it is plastered with missionary prayer cards
Salt and pepper shakers with “Ye are the salt of the world” printed on them
Illuminated Mary and Joseph or other nativity figures in the yard at Christmas

Our children today are living in very different times. Our old Christmas programs at school cheerfully swung between classic Christian Christmas carols and secular “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer” ditties. Some of the changes are good, some of it I’m not happy with. I’d rather have them singing a harmless (and religious) “Silent Night” than texting nude pictures of themselves. But there’s no going back to the 50’s.

As the world changes, as the population of our local cities and counties change, I don’t think any of us want teachers or principals of other religions promulgating their particular teachings in any way that is other than educational or informational. So the safeguards currently in place about pushing religion in schools are necessary. The safeguards about freedom of religion in this country are still in place, and that means freedom to practice a religion other than Christianity.

But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be passionate about our beliefs. Passionate: but not pushy or proselytizing or, (and it must be said in this day), passionate to the point of violence or rancor.

Lukewarmness, to go back to my first paragraph, was what got the Almighty’s ire up. We can unapologetically practice and live what we believe. We can express and share our faith in a way that doesn’t put down others. Christianity Today magazine (Aug. 14, 2008) told the example of the famous missionary E. Stanley Jones meeting Gandhi in India. Jones asked him, “Mr. Gandhi, though you quote the words of Christ often, why is it that you appear to so adamantly reject becoming his follower?” Gandhi, of course, had been kicked out of a Christian church one time in South Africa because of his racial identity.

Gandhi replied, “Oh, I don't reject Christ. I love Christ. If Christians would really live according to the teachings of Christ, as found in the Bible, all of India would be Christian today.”

I find the words of Gandhi to be a challenge, as well as the follow up encouragement in the book of Revelation after the “warning” to the Laodiceans: “… So be earnest.” (Revelations 3:19)

Sign up for a daily “Sip of Scripture” from our Web site to get short daily scriptures to your e-mail box that will help you be earnest about learning more from the Bible.

by Melodie Davis
Mennonite Media

Backstage at the Gracies

Thu, 2 Jul 2009 07:00:00 EST

Our agency received a Gracie media award in early June from the American Women in Radio and Television organization. We received one free ticket to the event, so I was pleased to attend the award ceremony in New York City.

They were not “victims” but people who had been empowered by sharing their stories in this way.

It is not quite the Oscars or even Emmys but there is a red carpet outside the hotel, make-up artists who help you look your best, and a chance to give a short acceptance speech before a supportive audience. Like someone else said, “They do this up nice.”

Our award was for a public service radio campaign, “Unsung: Families Voices on Mental Illness” tagged “from the Mennonite churches and Faith & Values Media.” The spots are airing on about 310 radio stations and focus on how families and friends are absolutely critical in their support of those with mental illness. (To hear/read the spots or to find stations airing the spots, go to the link above.)

The awards (named after Gracie Allen) honor mainstream media programs “for, by, and about women.” Luminaries present included people such as: Maya Angelou, Katie Couric, Jane Pauley, Rachael Ray, Ann Curry, Suze Orman, Melissa Rivers (Joan’s daughter), a few males such as Bob Schieffer, and actresses Mariska Hargitay and Amy Poehler.

But I got to thinking about the lesser-known, behind-the-scenes women I got to meet and talk shop with. All of those I talked with were overwhelmingly supportive, kind, interested, and encouraging. And that was the true gift and realization of the evening. I talked to a woman who is in charge of the Web site for the Dr. Phil TV program, and two others who work for Lifetime Television’s Web site. They gave me some very good ideas for our own online presence. No worries about giving away their best secrets (apparently). I also talked to two women who cover the NPR religious beat and we compared notes on similar productions.

But perhaps the women who impressed me most were three women at my table who had appeared in a documentary, “Till fear do us part.” It was a program about domestic violence, for the Maryknoll “Voices of Our World” radio program. The producer who accepted the award on their behalf pointed out how they were not “victims” but people who had been empowered by sharing their stories in this way.

I had to think of the women and men who shared their stories for our radio spots, which came from a longer documentary project, Shadow Voices: Finding Hope in Mental Illness which we produced for TV earlier. Most people wish to keep their emotional vulnerabilities and difficulties somewhat private. Why reveal that you cut and burn your arms? Why confess you became so unstable that your spouse had to take the car keys away? But the persons in our radio spots found that in sharing their experiences and speaking up, they find community and support from others. In turn they want to give that gift to others who may be struggling. They participated to help the overall goal of reducing the stigma of mental illness.

Most of the productions honored with Gracies were programs of this type: sensitive, cutting edge personal topics with an emotional edge. And in that room of women and men with incomes ranging from $0 to $10,000 to many millions, there was a feeling of camaraderie and community that is frequently shared among like-minded women.

It doesn’t take an award program to feel this kind of camaraderie or celebrate the special gifts of women around you. I would be remiss to not name the many behind-the-scenes women who made a production like this possible: Dorothy Hartman, production manager; Lois Hertzler, marketing coordinator; Lois Priest, manager of mailings; Sheri Hartzler, program manager; and Barbra Graber, one of the narrators. It took men too: the engineer, director, finance director and editor. And that’s the way it is with almost any project of this nature: it takes women and men working together to do their best work. My hat is off, and gratitude goes out, to all.

For more information on the 2009 awards go to http://www.thegracies.org/gallery-2009.php .

by Melodie Davis
Mennonite Media

A Dinosaur in an Age of Electronics

Thu, 25 Jun 2009 07:00:00 EST

I am a dinosaur.

I’ve been told my shoes look like grandma shoes and my purse is a grandma purse.

I am 57 years old, but I am extinct, or rapidly becoming so.

The cause of all this angst? An agent told me today that my writing felt old-fashioned.

Background: Someone recently sent me a printed booklet of a sermon from the well-known Riverside Church in New York City, dated February, 1970. The first page referred to the “Eisenhower years” as though they were recent. It referred to young people having to snap off their “transistor radios” long enough to go to church, and then say the experience was a “drag.”

I read that first page and decided the material was too dated to possibly be relevant even though it was called, “Have we outgrown worship?”

I read back through my own manuscript which I had sent the potential book agent. Two of my family stories in the book proposal from a few years ago depict scenarios that wouldn’t even have happened if they had occurred in today’s era of cell phones. Oops. Sure. Dated. I refer to a photo of me as a teen with pink curlers in my hair. I might as well have referred to using “curling papers” like they did in the 1800’s. Another story referred to a girl calling home from college once a week, like in the old days. Today many parents and kids are in almost constant contact through texting, Facebook, cell or you name it. I’m sure the agent thought my material was too dated to possibly be relevant for today’s audiences. Dinosaur.

Barbara Kingsolver, the novelist and also author of the “eat local” non-fiction treatise, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, tells a story of how she and her 11-year-old daughter, Lily, walk to the end of their country lane to meet the child’s bus. Barbara loves the walks and the chats, but “a few weeks ago as we stood waiting in the dawn’s early light, Lily was quietly looking me over, and finally said: ‘Mom, just so you know, the only reason I’m letting you wear that outfit is because of your age.’”

I grinned. Been there, done that. I’ve been told my shoes look like grandma shoes and my purse is a grandma purse. The bad thing about that is I’m not even a grandma yet.

Kingsolver goes on, reflecting on the scenario with her daughter: “‘Because of your age.’” It’s okay now to deck out and turn up as the village idiot. Hooray! I am old enough. How does this happen? Over a certain age, do you become invisible? There is considerable evidence for this in movies and television. But mainly, I think, you’re not expected to know the rules. Everyone knows you’re operating on software that hasn’t been updated for a good while.” (Barbara Kingsolver commencement speech, Duke University, 2008.)

We recently taught our 83-year-old friend how to use the brand new cell phone his step-daughter from another state had sent him. She felt he needed to have one for his own safety; he thought it was a big nuisance, but is playing along to keep good will. I told my husband, I wonder what “new” thing we will have to learn to use when we are 83, that no one has even invented or barely thought of yet.

So, is my writing actually dated? I’d be happy to hear from you. I can easily fix the manuscript in question, edit out the references or completely remove the stories that were indeed written 15-20 years ago. I can deal with criticism and I find feedback helpful. The agent did me a favor.

What I can’t fix or change is my age or the fact that I was born in 1951 while Eisenhower was indeed still in office and we had one phone in our house with the simple number 838-J on a party line. I can’t change the fact that I learned to type on a manual typewriter and when I first started working after college, I had to correct letters using an eraser, and if you were making the requisite three carbon copies at the same time, you had to insert little paper between each leaf so you didn’t muss up the copy underneath. Have no idea what I’m talking about?

I told you I was a dinosaur.

by Melodie Davis
Mennonite Media

Marriage Accountability

Thu, 18 Jun 2009 07:00:00 EST

A recent episode of the popular TV show “Grey’s Anatomy” was worthwhile on two fronts. (I hate, but try to overlook its over-emphasis on casual sexual hook ups to the point of the program feeling incestuous: everyone sleeping with former mates, roommates, best friends, etc.)

Today I become a man. Today I become a husband. Today I become accountable to someone other than myself.

An episode in May called “What a Difference a Day Makes” was surely meant to tug at the heart strings of every good parent who has had or will have a high school or college graduate. It featured a horrible crash which landed an SUV full of college students in the E.R. on their graduation day. All except one are mortally wounded. I hope it was also a wake up call to all kids in their feelings of invincibility at this time of year: we all know such tragic things are too often real life. I hope the episode made a few kids more thoughtful as they party and drive and head for the beach. And maybe save a few lives.

I also loved the impromptu vow pledged by the character Alex as he wed his terminally ill bride, Izzie. Alex had snatched most of the vow from the planned commencement address he coaxed out of one of the young accident victims. Poignant for that setting, but also very good and poignant words that almost say it all for the purposes of marriage vows (adaptable for either male or female):

“Today’s the day my life begins. All my life I’ve been just me: just a smart mouth kid. Today I become a man. Today I become a husband. Today I become accountable to someone other than myself. Today I become accountable to you, to our future, to all the possibilities that marriage has to offer. Together no matter what happens I’ll be ready: for anything, for everything, to take on life, to take on love, to take possibility and responsibility. Today, Izzie Stevens, our life together begins and I for one can’t wait.” (Grey’s Anatomy, May 7, 2009).

If I were to “borrow” these vows, I would add “Today we begin our walk together ‘til death do us part, so help us God.”

We hear a lot about marriage compatibility, which of course is very important, but today I want to focus on the accountability that the character’s vows focused on.

What does it mean to be held in loving accountability to and by another person? Used in this sense, it is a very good, life-giving, freeing thing. To live in accountability is to live less selfishly: thinking of the other’s needs, wants and desires. It means checking in with each other, preferably at least each day, and pausing to really hear and respond to where the other person is emotionally, physically and spiritually at that moment. It certainly means to live in accountability for one’s finances. While this can be a trouble spot (and indeed one of the key things couples argue about), for those who master or traverse the difficulties of finances, couples can serve as a real “check and balance” for one another. Woe to the couple where both tend to spend spend spend, or both are tightfisted worriers.

If the marriage leads to children, (and I’ve read some pieces indicating that a lot of couples right now are not interested in that much accountability), taking responsibility for those children brings another dynamic to the relationship. Especially when mother and father try to share chores. Accountability means getting up in the night to feed or quiet a baby, sometimes sacrificing nights out and a newer car to provide a home life that is nurturing, safe and healthy for children.

In housework and responsibilities, of course accountability means being willing to do your share of the household work, and being willing to talk about these issues without (I hope) emotion and anger. This too is probably high on the list of things that couples argue about.

In matters of faith, being accountable means working hard to live up to the promises you made to each other while dating or in early marriage, whatever faith understandings you agreed on.

So what’s freeing about committing to accountability? It means that someone accepts and loves me just as I am, and promises to do that always (providing I do the same thing back). It provides stability and grounding. It lets you know where you stand. To live in community with other people in families or marriage is to be accountable to those others.

For a free copy of my booklet “Secrets of Long Marriage: The Six C’s of Marriage” write to Another Way, Box 22, Harrisonburg, Va., 22802. Or e-mail melodied@mennomedia.org .

by Melodie Davis
Mennonite Media

A Better Father

Thu, 11 Jun 2009 07:00:00 EST

Editor’s Note: Guest column by Melodie Davis’ 28-year-old daughter, Michelle Davis Sinclair. Ms. Sinclair and her husband live just outside Washington, D.C.

There’s a lot of pressure out there to give kids “the things I didn’t have growing up.”

Sometimes my dad says, “I wish I could have been a better father,” and it drives me crazy. He was, and still is, a great father. So where’s the disconnect? What’s floating around out there in American society, telling him “a good father is this, and does this for his children” and how do those benchmarks stack up with what children really need?

Maybe Dad is thinking of that private school/new car/pay for college triumvirate of major parenting expenses. Or a bigger house. There’s a lot of pressure out there to give kids “the things I didn’t have growing up.” Except that the average American born after the second World War probably had things like shoes, coats, and beach vacations, so what else can you do? If you don’t have the means or desire to shower your kids with game systems and swimming pools, what do you give your kids that you didn’t have growing up?

Dad gave us a good relationship with our father. Here are some of the ways he (and Mom!) did it.

Don’t play favorites. Dad is always talking about how much he loves all three of us, and how he loves us all equally. It may seem like something he shouldn’t need to say, and sometimes we go “we know, Dad, you told us already,” but none of us doubt him. As for monetary equality, Dad had Mom (let’s be honest here, Dad is not the family scribe) keep detailed notes on the portion they paid (allowances, trips, college) to avoid treating my younger sisters differently than they’d treated big sister.

Attend your kids’ games and programs. Even if you don’t always feel like it. We were some active kids, involved in band, choir, musicals, basketball, softball, cheerleading, track, etc., often during the same season. I’m sure there were many times when Dad would rather have finished his Sunday afternoon nap or worked on a project, but instead he sat in the audience, or sweltered/froze along the parade route. It meant so much to see Mom and Dad in the crowd, watching for us, cheering us on.

Listen when they have something to tell you. I’m sure all the “whys?” and prattling during the pre-kindergarten years can grow tiresome, but when a child feels like they can communicate with a parent, that feeling carries over into the teenage years. Dad could be stubborn and opinionated, but he always made it clear that his children came first. If we wanted to tell him something, he’d not only listen, he’d take us seriously. And he’d even ask us for advice, whether it was about the outfit he wanted to buy Mom for her birthday, or if the shelf he was putting up looked crooked. I never went through a phase where I hated my parents and I think their respect of us as individuals played a large part in that.

Don’t be afraid to say “no” or “you can buy it with your own money.” I can’t tell you how many times I begged my parents for a toy and got that uber-frustrating response: “Buy it with your own money.” Once we were talking about my money, on an allowance of maybe $5 a month, that $15 dollar price tag took on a whole new character. I had to think about other things I wouldn’t be able to do if I bought that toy, and suddenly, it didn’t seem so important. That isn’t deprivation. It’s a lesson. Sure, my dad probably did that a lot because he didn’t have the money himself, but even if he had, I’d like to think he and Mom would have stuck to a similar gameplan. Besides, if imaginations have room to flourish, they provide whole summers worth of fun. How many dolls with wipe-on, wipe-off makeup can entertain you that long?

And finally, let your inner kid out to play. We loved it when Dad played “shark” in the swimming pool (on vacation) or followed us down the sledding hill. From train sets to remote control cars, we knew we had a cool toy when Dad would ask us to “hand it here.” He’d put the toy through its paces, his eyes lit up like an eight-year-old on Christmas morning. Even four rambunctious kittens became wrestlers in a cage match when Dad pulled out his play-by-play announcing skills. “And it’s Bubbles with a jab! Sage grapples with her, but here comes Midnight. Midnight has them both in a headlock; Paprika pounces!”

That’s the only thing I regret not having back then: a camcorder. That was funny stuff.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. Here’s to many more.

For a free leaflet, “Ten Things You Can Do to Be a Great Dad” in English or Spanish, write to Another Way, Box 22, Harrisonburg, Va. 22802 or e-mail mennomedia.org ');

by Melodie Davis
Mennonite Media

The Stray and Euthanasia

Thu, 4 Jun 2009 07:00:00 EST

We have a cat who may be put to sleep by the time you read this.

There is also social value in caring for people who are frail, infirm, advanced elderly and dying.

Don’t you hate, if you are a pet owner who has ever been in this predicament, to be in this in-between place deciding a living creature’s fate? How much more so to be in that position with a family member.

In 2002, Pixie was a stray who began sneaking food from our other cats’ bowls on our deck. She seemed shy and scared of us. She would visit a couple of days and then go away. Then she’d be back again. She was always hungry and yet stayed small, a true “pixie.” Pixie hates our dog, and we are never sure which one starts all the fights they have. She never seemed that fond of us either. She would scratch or bite if you did something she didn’t like.

Then last fall Pixie developed a tumor. It grew very slowly and we hated to put any more money into a stray who adopted us. After consulting with several vets who informed us the charge would be upwards of $800 to remove a simple tumor, we decided to let nature take its course. We knew from experience the likelihood of it returning was very strong.

But now “nature” is at that difficult place when she seems happy and feels O.K., but her tumor is poking out through her skin and bleeding at times. In general, she doesn’t smell so good. Do we put her down because she inconveniences us? I put old padded cloths down on the bed and sofa where she likes to lay and she obliges us by sitting on those. She’s also a lot nicer than she used to be. When is she sick enough to be put to rest?

I’m going on about these unpleasant details because that is also what we encounter at the end of human life. How awful it would be, I think, to have to decide whether a much loved human should be “put down,” or let nature take its course. On the other hand, some argue why not offer humans the dignified end available to our pets and horses.

Dr. Ira Byock, a medical doctor and author of Dying Well: Peace and Possibilities at the End of Life has done much practical work in the area of dealing with death and dying. Byock contends that if people’s pain and fears are taken care of, most people do not even consider physician-assisted suicide. While watching a loved one suffer interminably at the end of life is excruciating, today much of the pain and suffering can be alleviated through pain medications.

If physician-assisted suicide is available, Byock feels that people will feel increasing pressure to take advantage of it, in order to not be a “burden” to their families and to avoid draining family financial resources. “I frankly think assisted suicide is erosive to what it means to be a moral society,” Byock said in an interview our office conducted for a documentary, Journey Toward Forgiveness.

“We don’t culturally acknowledge openly enough that there is value at the end of life,” holds Byock. “There is also social value in caring for people who are frail, infirm, advanced elderly and dying.” He reminds us that “human life entails a period of illness and physical dependence and dying. Just as we were when we were infants, at the end of life most of us are going to need care: cleansing and holding and toileting and feeding.”

If people think they’re doing their families a favor by choosing or desiring physician-assisted suicide, that “really robs our family life, and collectively robs our society of some of the most poignant and precious aspects of human life.” Byock says he doesn’t want to “romanticize or glorify dying. It is a hard, unwanted, sad, often tragic time of life, but it is also very often an extremely important, precious, poignant time in the lives of individuals and families.”

This in-between time, taking care of our cat with the tumor even though she’s unsightly, has been rewarding in seeing how loving and responsive she’s become. While that cannot be compared at all to taking care of a loved human, it is still a valuable lesson to me, and makes me think that some decisions are not meant to be in human hands.

For more on these questions go to our web site Beyond the News: Facing Death.

by Melodie Davis
Mennonite Media

New Understandings of the Brain

Thu, 28 May 2009 07:00:00 EST

This is an audacious topic for a woman who almost flunked biology in college. But it is a topic of interest for most of us, especially since people who do know about these things are finding out more every day.

“The flesh in our head is far more complicated than anyone previously imagined.”

The topic was prompted by the short brain lapse my otherwise very wise and smart oldest daughter experienced during the time of her wedding last year on May 31. Four days after she got married (they had a very short honeymoon, then took an extended one later in the fall), she asked whether I had reimbursed her for a dog haircut she had paid for on our behalf three days before the wedding. I wasn’t surprised she didn’t remember because on the morning of the wedding, when she was getting a few cash payments ready to hand to people at the wedding, I had given her $50 in cash and we agreed that we would pay for the dog’s expense.

If you are wondering how I remember all this a year later, I will lie and tell you I have a wonderful brain. Ha. I wrote these notes down thinking it might make a good illustration for a column some day. Otherwise, these little details would be LONG gone.

When she asked about the reimbursement I reminded her that I had paid the morning of the wedding but that I could certainly understand why she didn’t remember. My brain wasn’t thinking very clearly that day. We couldn’t locate my husband’s rented tux for awhile either. When your brain is on overload, all circuits busy, you are more apt to forget where you put the keys, where your watch is, where your cell phone is (thank goodness we can call those things). I’m sure you know the feeling of brain overload.

Wired magazine recently had an interesting article on “Mapping the Human Brain” (April, 2009) where it details how custom-built robots are painstakingly mapping every “gene in our most complex organ.”

Allan Jones, chief scientific officer at the Allen Institute for Brain Science in Seattle, Wash. explains that “The maps of the brain we currently have are like those antique maps people used to draw of the New World.” The mapping project they’re undertaking, showing layer upon layer of complexity, leaves me in awe.

When this specific mapping project is completed in 2012, (you could compare it to the mapping of the Humane Genome completed in 2003) it will catalogue roughly 20,000 genes that operate in the brain. “Because the vast majority of mental illnesses and disorders, from schizophrenia to autism have a significant genetic component, scientists at the institute hope that the atlas will eventually lead to new methods of diagnosis and more effective medical treatments,” says science writer Jonah Lehrer.

Various scientific fields of neurology knew a lot about specific sections of the brain, but not really how it all fit together. The huge database should accelerate the pace of research for all of the various brain disorders, which is welcome news to families and those suffering from mental illness.

“The brain is just details on top of details on top of details,” Michael Hawrylycz, director of informatics at the institute says. “The flesh in our head is far more complicated than anyone previously imagined,” writes Lehrer.

Another part of the article discusses how similar the brains of humans are to the brains of animals, specifically the rodents so often used in scientific laboratories. Surely there is a mastermind behind all of the layers of details and complexity. Even the fact that animal brains are made from the same building blocks as humans (just not as complex or developed) points to a mastermind. The complexity of the human brain doesn’t come out of nowhere; and that’s not even taking into account all of the other systems of the human body. Logic demands that it comes from a plan. However you believe human beings came to be, to believe that there is a mastermind behind it all, and purpose for our being here, is to believe that our lives matter. Modern science, rather than negating or undermining God, can help underline our faith in a Master of the universe.

For a free leaflet, “Mental Illnesses are Brain Disorders,” write to melodied@mennomedia.org or Another Way, Box 22, Harrisonburg, Va. 22802.

by Melodie Davis
Mennonite Media

Marching for Babies

Thu, 21 May 2009 07:00:00 EST

A March of Dimes walk is full of the awe-factor: lots of oohing and awe-ing regarding cute babies, especially since many of them come in tandem, and even triple strollers. Twins and multiples are frequently much more subsequent to prematurity, with consequent problems.

It was hard to leave our baby at the hospital, even though we had two other children at home. I felt so torn and so bad for her.

In a way it was fitting that I would participate in the March of Dimes/March for Babies walk a few weeks ago in our hometown with my youngest daughter. Some of her bank colleagues were walking as a team so I decided to join them mainly for companionship and exercise.

None of our children were born prematurely or had major disabilities, for which we are very grateful to God. So that is probably why this fundraiser/advocacy march has never been high on my radar. There are so many worthy causes.

But our youngest daughter had to be put back in the hospital at about three weeks of age for “failure to thrive,” a scary term itself. Born at 6 pounds 12 ounces, she had lost weight down to the 5 pound region and because of a pronounced underbite, had extreme difficulty nursing. The other two I nursed without problems. So in a way she did have a disability that was corrected by surgery at age 16, but I’m getting ahead of my story.

When the doctor scribbled “failure to thrive/jaundice” as the reasons he was re-admitting her to the hospital, I was devastated. Did that mean I was a bad mom? How could I have let her health get to that point? I was emotional anyway after birth. The combination of the baby’s nursing difficulties, her high bilirubin level (caused by an immature liver having trouble processing stuff), and other medical problems with our two year old left me feeling very sorry for myself and my baby. The nurses encouraged me to go home at night so I could get some much needed sleep, since I was still in the throes of new baby sleeplessness.

It was hard to leave our baby at the hospital, even though we had two other children at home. I felt so torn and so bad for her. I could feel, even in just a small way, the pain of parents who must leave their infant day after day, week after week and months on end.

So I wasn’t too surprised when the young “March of Dimes ambassador” mother with her two children, both of whom had been born prematurely, said she wasn’t sure if she would be able to get through her little speech right before the walk began. Even though her children appeared to be normal rambunctious toddlers now, it was still an emotional memory. The thought of what other parents were, even now, going through, seemed to be foremost in her mind. Plus many walkers participate in memory of a baby who did not make it. So it was a special crowd.

These events are held any time of year, depending on your own locality, and lengths vary from 5-10 K. The organization says it uses 77 percent of funds raised for research and programs to help mothers have full term births, or to bring comfort and information to families experiencing a premature birth or one with problems.

In addition to too early births, society has reason to be concerned about too-early pregnancies or girls who become mothers at the ages of 13-17. In fact, this is one of the greatest causes of problems with premature birth: children giving birth to children and not getting proper care, nutrition and support. While many 16 year olds seem quite mature, mentally and socially they are not really ready to become grown-up mothers until well into their 20s. At the other end of the age spectrum, pregnancy after 35, premature births and other problems also increase.

If you love babies like I do perhaps you’ll want to consider walking with or otherwise supporting this or other organizations concerned with helping the most vulnerable among us.

by Melodie Davis
Mennonite Media

Being There For Others

Thu, 14 May 2009 07:00:00 EST

My daughter lives in Nashville but faithfully telephones us once a week, usually on Sunday nights. Some kids call oftener, but at least she is very faithful.

Her car was in the middle of an intersection during rush hour and right after impact she just sat in her car because she couldn’t think what to do next.

I’ve said if she calls me at any other time, either the news is really good or really bad. A new job. A promotion. Or an accident. She’s had a few of those over the years but we do thank God that they have not been serious.

But this past Tuesday morning I picked up my office phone and heard a tearful child. Initially I wasn’t sure which one of my daughters it was. She blubbered, “I had an accident!” My heart stopped but I soon squelched my rising panic realizing that since she was personally calling, it couldn’t be too bad. But obviously she was upset and I was too. I learned she was all right and then I had to scurry off to a meeting, and she had to talk to the police officer.

Long story short, when she called in the evening with full details, we learned that the man who hit her had run a red light but at least he was “very nice.” There was also a “Good Samaritan” who stopped immediately to help out. Her car was in the middle of an intersection during rush hour and right after impact she just sat in her car because she couldn’t think what to do next or whether she should try to drive it off of the road. So this Good Samaritan stepped in and said it wasn’t safe where it was and she wasn’t either and actually drove the car for her onto a nearby wrecker service lot to wait for police. Very sensible, but she was too upset to think that fast. So the Good Samaritan stepped in when both her father and I were 400 miles away. Thank goodness for people who step up.

We can’t always be there for our children: that is a fact of their growing up. What if the Good Samaritan had been a bad Samaritan and she was traveling late at night and this had happened where there weren’t a lot of cars? We shudder to think, but must trust God and her own good instincts. Bad things happen to all kinds of people but we must trust God to “guard their souls” as the Psalmist says.

The reality of not being able to be there for your adult kids is part of modern life for most of us. Because she lives 400 miles away, she also couldn’t borrow our extra vehicle, we couldn’t drive her to work, or very easily hash through the insurance settlement issues. We can’t help her go look for a new car. When parents can’t be there, it is wonderful when others fill in. Or when adult children can’t be there for their parents, likewise.

Leo Buscaglia, author and motivational speaker said, “Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” I doubt the Good Samaritan thought twice about what he did that morning during Nashville’s rush hour. He might have saved her life. He certainly lent moral support.

One pastor felt very encouraged by the response of a man’s Sunday school class when the man suffered a heart attack. The pastor immediately went to the hospital to be with the man even though it was 3:30 a.m. That’s what pastors do.

But by 4 a.m., the first friend from the man’s Sunday school class arrived at the emergency room. Within hours, seven came to the hospital to support the man and his family in prayer and mutual care. (More of the story can be read at www.deanlisenby.com under Monday Nov. 12, 2007).

What do people do who don’t have this kind of congregational support during times of crisis, and family members are far away? They depend on other friends or neighbors.

It isn’t easy to ask for help, and many times lonely people, especially elderly and widows or widowers, are just longing for someone to come over, or ask them out to dinner, or take them to an event. If someone is caring for a spouse with Alzheimer’s or other serious illness, you can bet they need relief from time to time. When you hear of someone having an accident or in the hospital, ask the friend if you can help in a specific way, like if they need a ride or help with childcare or help with laundry or other chores.

Who will you be there for?

by Melodie Davis
Mennonite Media