A Prayer for Peace

Shattered buildings, lives snuffed out, dreams lost. We did not ask for this tragedy, but it is part of our inheritance, unwilling though we may be to receive it. It is our heritage, as much a part of us as those brave souls who stood up for their ideals, 230 years before airplanes were hijacked and used as weapons. Our duty is to never forget.

We are the proud members of a community; a community comprised of countless skin colors, surnames and faiths. A community whose members emerged from unnavigable darkness to survive another day. This is a community that never gives up; we leave no one behind.

This community is America; we are Americans. We shoulder each other's burdens, we comfort each other in crisis, we stand together as one people, when our way of life and our freedom is threatened. We rip the shirt off our collective backs and we clothe our neighbors; we take care of each other.

Words, weapons, and wars will threaten, until the end of time. Innocent people will die. Freedom lives on. Freedom is a gift, wrapped in tears, in blood, in anger. Americans embrace freedom, we wish to share it with all. But all do not understand. They may never comprehend the value of this gift, because they have never been free.

God bless America, God bless the fallen and their families, God bless us all as we seek to live in peace, in Your world.

It's Good to be the Empress...

My close friends have called me "the Empress" for years, because they are a) intelligent and b) they know it gets ugly when I don't get my way.

There's no better day to be the Empress than on your birthday, the day when Father Time smacks you on the head with more wrinkles, age spots and memory loss. But when you're the Empress, you can stare him down, and scream, "Back off!"

Even as Father Time ignores you, your loyal subjects get the message, and they bring you cake, because you can't scream with a full mouth. Eating birthday cake softens the March of Time a lot.

My poor husband is well-trained in this Empress ruse; this year, he gave me a Birthday Tiara with sparkly pink fringe on it, which I proudly wore on a 12-hour car trip to his family reunion. Hey, you make me travel to your family reunion on my special day, you get what you deserve!

The best thing about being an Empress is stretching out your birthday celebration for weeks on end. I'm in my second week of fun, and I still have friends calling, asking if they can take me to Starbucks or lunch. My very best friend baked me the most beautiful chocolate cupcakes I've ever seen, with handmade marzipan nasturtiums and roses on top! CHEEK SLAP!

Bring it on! I'm blessed, I know. My family and friends are the salt of the earth, with some paprika thrown in there, too. But let's face it, to have a friend, you have to be a friend, right? I've handed out my share of tiaras and birthday cards over the years, along with baked goods and supportive shoulders in a crisis. My friends treat me like the Empress, because they know I'm there for them, any time of the day or night. And I respond in kind.

Anyone can call themselves "Empress," but without an adoring public, you'd look pretty ridiculous, standing there in your crown, waving your hands in the air. Our 'loyal subjects' empower us to be who we are, whether we're an Empress for a Day, or SuperMom, or The Loony Woman Who Rakes Through the Garbage.

So check your calendars, note a friend's upcoming birthday, bake a cake, and shop for a tiara. It's good to be the Empress.

Now to find a small country to rule...