Wednesday, December 17, 2008

♥Psalm 27:10♥

Image Courtesy of

I promise I'm not about to preach at you. I'd like to begin this post by informing you of my position regarding the use of information. If it works, go with it. No matter where it comes from. Agree or disagree with the source, but if there's any value to be had in a statement or idea, no reason to throw it away because you don't like the author. Just wanted to clear that up before I continue with you thinking this is some sort of subversive attempt at shoving something down your throat that you don't want anything to do with. It isn't.

Many of us have experienced some pretty heinous rejection in our lifetime. For a life to be thrown away, a beating heart. I'm really not sure what to make of that. They say that if you don't care for others, if you're so willing to disregard another life, you probably don't have much regard for your own. I don't necessarily agree with that. But that's for another blog. The point here, today, is the measure of human worth independent of the vacillating standard that sometimes says otherwise.

Between 1854 and 1929, hundreds of thousands of American children were herded onto trains to be sent to any takers that would have them along stops all over the country. These children were victims of poverty and disease, usually. A Christian man saw the plight of the sometimes very young babies that walked streets all over the U.S. with no shoes, wearing rags. At this particular time in American history, there were no social programs to assist our people in such large numbers. It was our job to take care of each other, and our citizens agreed.

These babies were picked up, scrubbed and given shoes and a change of clothes with a cardboard suitcase. Not every child on these trains was an orphan. Between the Stock Market Crash of the 1920's, and diseases with no vaccines to be heard of, mothers were dying and daddies had no idea what to do. One little man, who's family was torn apart this way, remembers it this way.

"since I was the oldest, I'd been instructed to look after my brothers. The pink, stamped envelope with Papa's name and address on it made a
crackling sound as I touched it. He'd given it to me the day before, when he'd visited the orphanage to say
goodbye. "Write me when you get settled," he'd said. Then tears began running down his face."

Up and down the aisles, the man continues to explain that you could hear tiny sobs and scared little voices whispering with the rocking of the rail cars. Dealing with a child's uncertainty meant being a man or a woman, and as my grandmother used to say, putting your shoulders back.

These children endured rejection of the searing kind. The generation we're discussing right now had no outlet for their pain, save their own shoulders.
And nothing is really new under the sun, as King Solomon told us many, many years ago. The same thing happens in every city and town all over the world today, just manifested differently. Three year olds wander garbage dumps in South America. They, as the children that came before them generations ago, don't have shoes either. Here in the U.S. the abuse and rejection has become creative. Hurting our babies has become almost an art. And so the walking wounded have Zoloft and Paxil and group therapy sessions. But the mother and the daddy, the hole, they can't be filled or replaced by manipulating neurotransmitters or attempting to move the pain from your soul to a statement to others.

So I'm telling you, that just like back in 1855, when a Christian man decided that it was his job, concurrent with his beliefs, to take responsibility for his community, that's what I'm asking you to do right now.

The name of the boy who lost his only hope in that pink envelope is Lee Nailing. Bitterness bloomed in his young heart immediately after he discovered the only thing he had to hold onto, his pink envelope with his father's address on it, was gone. He was shuffled through many homes until a Mrs. and Mrs. Nailing of the Christian faith, allowed their beliefs to guide them to this little boy. They called Lee down to dinner his first night in their home, and scolded him for grabbing a biscuit before grace was said over their meal. Mr. Nailing began his new family's meal by addressing "our Father", and ended it with thanking the same father for blessing them with a son, and asked for guidance in their choices as they raised him in Christ. Lee Nailing explained that as he listened to the prayer, he was amazed that these people considered him to be a privilege. He looked over at the empty seat next to him, with a simple, (even dumb by most standards) deduction that this invisible father must be in that chair.

Lee grew up to be a productive, successful Christian man. One of the very last statements he made when sharing his story to be documented as part of the history of the Orphan Train was that "Although I didn't know where Papa was, or how I could write to him, I had the
strong feeling that I had found not one but two new fathers, and I could talk to both of them. And that's the way it
turned Out."

Though his mother and father foresook (is that a word? I don't think so. crap. foresaked?) him, Christ received this little boy. The resilience that was birthed of this generations struggles built a nation who's shoulders we stand on today. The same shoulders they were told to "put back" and carry on through drought, starvation, disease and war.

So I'm telling you that you're capable. Your mother and father may very well have thrown you away. Someone has probably hurt you. That pain can be used to impart the most powerful, and only thing that can truly save this world. That thing is Love. Love equals hope. It equals the strength to push through and make beauty out of ashes. Through what some would call serendipitous events, Lee started off in a home with folks who didn't really love him after being taken from his father, and was kicked out for letting their chickens out of their coop too early in the morning; and thereby sent to a home with the parents who saved his life.

Like Lee, try having a little faith in providence. Then, use your pain to make this world a better place. So your shoulders can be the ones that hold up the broken long after you're gone. That's really what we're here for. Remember, it's never about you. And it never will be. For more on the Orphan Train and how it helped to shape our country, check out this video.


Monday, December 8, 2008


The title of this post came to be out of deference to the SoL writer's cousin. "Politicization" is not a word. Moving along, the above image took a very long time to compose; and alas, the SoL writer must sleep, and will continue tomorrow.
Stay tuned..

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With deference to the SoL writer's dear cousin, the birth of this post title came to be. "Politicization" is not a word.
Moving on, this post will probably be the longest one ever...
The image above took quite awhile, and so alas, the SoL writer has a Pharmacology exam tomorrow and must complete the rest of this post tomorrow. Stay tuned...
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Sunday, November 16, 2008

♥The Challenge♥

copyright 2008 sanctity of life .net stock image courtesy of

HoH0Ho! Is that not the most ridiculous looking Christmas Money Tree thing ever? haha. I R Artists! Sorry it's late and I made that in like, 10 seconds. Anyway....

The Sanctity of Life writer is a full time nursing student, parent, nurser of THEIR parent, house cleaner person, and go to-er for people who need hugs, funny crap in their lives and small errands run for them. It's a great time to be the Sanctity of Life Writer! But not so much, if you're a Sanctity of Life READER. The SoL writer sort of doesn't believe many people read this anyway, but just in case and FYI, SoL is slowly growing, via nontraditional means that are too ninja secret to share with the masses. Just, trust us.

In any case and moving right along, we has challengeZ 4 U! The other day, the SoL writer didn't really have the inclination to eat lunch. Someone that the SoL writer had helped some time back, decided to pay the SoL writer back. SoL writer doesn't believe in paying anything back. There no loans in Sanctity of Life world.
This stated, the writer had an idea!

The writer wrote 'someone inspired hope in me, please use this dollar to inspire hope in someone else.'
That right there, is what it's all about y'all.
And so I challenge you. E-mail admin at sancitity of life dot net, and said admin will mail you one U.S. dollar with something awesome written on it. Use that dollar and then tell us what you did with it. I know SoL seems sort of emotional-ish and all commie lovey We Are the World.

But every single moment of every single day, is an opportunity to change a life. Grab it, and become the things you secretly wish you could be but think you can't.
That one dollar will buy a small coffee. Throw in some of your own change if you live in inflationville. Perhaps make purchase of a nice beverage for a stranger, or a dollar double cheeseburger at McDonalds. just because. Sadly, we live in a world where people think you're trying to serve them anthrax if you do that. But trust that your intentions will be matched with another person in desperate need of that very dollar that you'll have in your hand if you e-mail us. I also want to see your pictures of your dollars once you receive them, or I'll sue you!
just kidding. But I still want pictures and all sorts of other multi-media extravaganza associated with what you're going to do with your dollar.

This is SO EXCITING! I'm now tapping my foot in anticipation of your request!
hurry up!

you're still reading aren't you.

stop it.


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Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Drawing Straight With A Crooked Line

Child born with Harlequin Icthyosis, Sanctity of Life if this is your image, please, let us know

There's this adorable little saying thing that says 'I'm so clumsy I fall UP the stairs.' Lots of people like to think they're that cute, but to really be that is sort of crappy. The Sanctity of Life writer happens to know
someone herself that has fallen up a very tall flight of stairs in front of her peers. On more than one occasion. Looked like somebody chin checked her after it was all said and done.

To take that a step further, there are quite a few people on this planet
that, for all intents and purposes and especially with respect to the American cultural ideal of success, suck.

They're born with disfiguring diseases that make them the object of patronization or indirect, but polite..ridicule. Some of us have terrible credit, or are fat or just didn't get an MBA and don't know how to play the game. Perhaps you were a coke head and nobody cares that you got clean
and are trying your hardest, and are attempting to make good on the second
chance you know you probably don't deserve. Whatever the crack in the
perceived human perfection that these people have and this world demands of all of us, they're consumed by a struggle that most of us care little to notice.

The fundamental goal of Sanctity of Life is to hopefully get at least one person to stop and listen, for just a minute. Listen to hope, and
sing that song with at least one step of the many that they'll take on their
journey through forever. That one step has the potential to move mountains. Literally, pick up rocks and move them. This fact is repeated ad nauseum
in just about every post on this here blog joint. But it's important that you remember that as you read. Because, most of you are block heads and won't get it unless it's repeated 888888888888x :D
Just kidding.

Anyway and back to the point, our world is so full of broken folks. We all live on little islands and refuse to hear each other because ourselves > *. We believe we're the problem, because false humility is cool. And then, we resolve the problem with a solution that we call 'self.' Then we're even bigger heroes! yessssssssssssss!
Commitments are commitments are commitments. If you've fallen, or thought of not keeping them, but still kept them then really, that's all that mattered. If you've messed up but plod along every day and do the right thing and don't really ask for attention more than likely, because of shame, that's o.k.too You're still moving.

God makes straight lines out of crooked messes. Bottom line, that's it. When the intent of the heart moves you to a place that keeps you on the path that you know is the one you need to be on, who cares if you mess up. You're doing it, and I'm so proud of you. I sound like Mr. Rogers but, true story, you're beautiful. Not kidding.

Keep going and hold on. Somebody hears you. Your future is not predicated upon your past, under any circumstances. Ever. So what if you're weird. Lots of us are, it's just too scary to admit it. Lots of us have been the suck, and perhaps still are. And, you know what..? Heroism is the ability to undergo attack, walk in fear, move in increments so small that they're indetectable to the human eye, and not fall apart. Every single moment that you're moving forward is another victory over the big black hole that says that your ability to afford 33333333333 dollar purses the size of a sock and drive an Escalade are what define success.

I'm so proud of you. I mean that with every single cell in my body. It sounds so trite to see that spelled out in some font on a worthless blog on the internets. But you'd see my love for your triumph a mile away if you met me. Whoever you are, where ever you're at, you're still here aren't you? Maybe it's dark as you read this. You got your lil cigarette, and it's getting cold outside. Christmas is coming, and nobody can see the little light inside of you that you're trying so hard to keep from going out. But I do. And you = precious. Perfection is what you find in imperfection, and true beauty and the stuff that comprises the sum total of good will never be found in anything palatable to most of today's culture. You're o.k., and you're not alone, and you are so precious that I had absolutely no idea how to articulate it. Also, the Sanctity of Life writer's dog keeps attempting to eat pencils and she's terrified that the dog's upper digestive tract is going to perforate as a result, and she doesn't concentrate so well so this particular entry is sort of crappy. But I mean well and, honestly, I had a conversation today with someone who's heart touched me so profoundly. She's going to be a nurse. And to go from where she was to where she is, blessed my heart so much that I needed to remind whoever reads this that is probably just as cool as she is that,

you are more precious than you will ever begin to comprehend. All this person had to do was be herself, and explain who she is in her own words and she shined brighter than the brightest star, ever. Don't waste your worth chasing things that you'll never catch. No matter what your weakness or thorn or set back or bad thing or past or shame is, you're amazing.

To read more about that horrendous picture above,
click here

And, Hold on. If you get scared,
teh adminZ.

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Tuesday, July 15, 2008

The Darker Side

by starry_kid, @ DeviantArt.

So, we understand that everything isn't always happy, pretty smelling flowers and so forth in the world that we live in. There are sides of life that are dark, and sometimes scary. Places nobody wants to go for the fights venturing into them may cause. For the pain that will be stirred and cast back into lives that need a little bit of peace. For the sake of maintaining civility. Most of us would rather not deal with what I'm about to talk about.

And although being as congenial as possible has always been a goal of mine, the reality of absolutes is something that I cannot ignore.

This stated, we're about to take a trip into a place that perhaps this site shouldn't delve into, but is going to anyway in the name of honoring every facet of true and honest love.

There's this woman, named Susan Atkins. Instead of becoming a productive, contributing citizen; perhaps being a little hippie girl and then settling down like most people of my parent's generation..with a family, and a dog. Raising kids with Flock of Seagulls hair in the 80's..

She murdered a pregnant actress. With Charles Manson. Time froze for her, and the brutality of her actions on the day that she chose to steal decisions that didn't belong to her into her own hands by murdering a woman and her baby became the one thing that would define her forever.

Susan Atkins is now dying now on death row. She's in the advanced stages of cancer, and won't be alive much longer. She's already had a leg amputated, and has become pretty weak and is no longer ambulatory.

And there's a fight going on. Her husband has asked that she be released from prison, in order to die at home.

So now, we come to the subject of grace.
Quite a few of us have been brutalized in some way, shape or form. Our souls have been twisted into contortions that no words can accurately paint a picture of for the rest of the world to be horrified by. The pain is enormous, and it tends to shape us into the person we live as for the rest of our lives after whatever horrible thing was inflicted upon us has done its damage.

So who in the world is Susan Atkins to die at home after destroying life like so much worthless nothing? When she did what she did, time stopped for so many people. But perhaps it's time to let go. Maybe, open our fists. And let go of the awful thing that drives us after we've been damaged by it. We don't even know what we're doing. But we hold onto the ugliest parts of the worst things that have been inflicted upon us, and become heroes to ourselves by using it to say 'See, it didn't hurt me. I'm moving on and I'm doing JUST FINE!!!' (:angry face:). But it did hurt us. It's still stabbing us in the little sweaty hand we're using to hold onto whatever it is that's torn us and the anger just keeps on swarming around us because polite society says that justice is this:
To bring up the awful every so often. Ride on the backs of those that hurts us under the guise of being a champion over adversity, and with smug faces.. say 'I did it! I overcame!'

Well guess what. You didn't 'do it.' You didn't overcome anything. By writing books, and giving speeches, with an occasional dramatic outburst about the injustice of what you're been through, you're stopping time. You're making the day that someone ripped open your soul a holiday of sorts, to celebrate your victim hood. Woah..How dare I say such a thing!

Don't put your self-rigteous mad face on and get ready to type something awful to me just yet. Read on...

True victory over the tragedies of life is looking the aggressor in the eye and seeing them as the same human being that you are and saying, 'I know you hurt just as bad as I did. It's over now.' Hold the hand of your enemy and help them heal, to help you heal. Am I denying the visciousness and the terrible consequences of what Susan Atkins did to that woman and her baby some thirty years ago?

I'm saying that mercy and grace don't pick and choose who's worthy. True love is never deserved. And that part of the reason our world is in such a shambles is for a very simple reason.

I know two little girls who beat the living crap out of each other if they're left alone to do so. They're sisters. Constantly competing to prove that one is the better, more perfect offspring. The other day, one of these girls socked the other in the face with a very large book. Immediately, their mother made them hug. And then proceeded to direct the victim of the book attack to serve her sister lunch.

So, the reason makes sense. When we're stripped of our anger, and the terrible manifestations that come of being the self centered people that we are, we're just that. People. We get hungry. We all hurt, we all have to go potty. Susan Atkins is just like me. She just, showed the same awful nature that I have in a different way in direct accordance with her particular situation.

So I'm telling you to let your captor go home. They're only your captor because you let them continue to be that.

you should serve them some lunch.
I won't argue over this. I refuse to. Just do what I said to do. Find the person that's hurt you the most and make them a sandwich, immediately.

to read more about Susan Atkins, check this out.


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Thursday, May 8, 2008

♥The United States Military♥

Photo courtesy of, Sanctity of Life

Joint Task Force Bravo, Honduras..

For the win.
There are about 600 troops at any given time stationed at Soto Cano Air Base, Honduras. On their off time, you'd expect that they'd be...on their puters..hanging out on Myspace or something. Perhaps kickin it with a Wii.

Not these guys. On weekends, about 50 or so airmen pack up their hiking stuff, gather as much donated food, toys and clothes as they can and hike into the poorest villages they can find in the surrounding communities. Once there, they administer veterinary and medical care, give out food, toys and clothes, and hang out with the local Hondurans.

They do all of this, in their free time.

We complain about how terrible our military is, and these guys use their station in life to make a difference in the lives of strangers. Because they feel like it.

So, the official objective of us being there, is to support democracy in Latin American countries. Help them grow, and develop well so that they in turn, can benefit the U.S. with their happy democratic ways. But I mean, not only are we doing official government business, a bunch of people decided to use their personal time to go above and beyond what their job description is to like, play soccer with six year olds and make sure they have food to eat. They go all out too. Delivering Christmas cookies, taking care of goats.

This is the ethic I'm talking about. Extend this to *YOUR* work. Do you have a customer who's having a hard you see a need with a client or co-worker or vendor..maybe they're really tired or their kids have been sick and it's wearing them out.

check out their efforts here

Bake them a FRUIT CAKE! Buy them a McDonald's gift card for their coffee on the way to work in the morning. Just one tiny step. That's all it takes.

Remember y'all, we are the sum total of every single moment, and every single thing we think doesn't matter.

While you're sitting here on the internets browsing around, watching YouTube perhaps? you could maybe go to a chat room (stupid, I know) and look for somebody that needs a little bit of hope. Tell them something meaningful and good, and then go on back to crazy crocodile videos or whatever it is you were looking at.

Try it.


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Wednesday, April 30, 2008

♥Does Anybody Hear Her♥

So I was walking down the street one day, in the downtown part of a huge city. As I walked past the buildings, I came to a woman with dirty blonde hair. Not just in color either. It was pretty dirty. She was standing, silently..facing an inside corner of a building with her back to me, and her face hidden.

The back of her jeans were covered in blood..and my heart immediately broke. I didn't want to emberrass her any further than she clearly already was. I stopped right in front of her, while about a million people walked by. And she was invisible. I'm a pretty emotional person. Unfortunately. :( About nine hundred and fifty eleven thousand thoughts about her ran through my mind, as she continued to strike me just by being alive. I did absolutely everything I could not to cry for this woman. She was my age.

She could've been a drug addict. Probably was. Or maybe not.
She was clearly homeless.

And you know, I kept thinking that one day, years ago, some mother went into labor..with the promise of a new life moving inside of her..and gave birth. She struggled and hurt..and through this woman's pain..the person I was now staring at came into the world. Tiny and precious and beautiful. Someone cried over her. Someone rejoiced at her birth. Maybe not even her own parents, but SOMEONE did.

I saw that precious baby past the hurt, bloody and dirty faceless woman I couldn't walk away from.

The point? She represents every single thing that this blog here stands for. Who cares where she'd been or what she'd done. We've all done whatever she'd done to get to where she was that day. We've all taken steps in that direction. Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Atheist.. I don't care what you are. SoL isn't here to shove our beliefs down your throat. We're here to show you that there's hope, and ask you to respond in kind.

the human condition, IS. It manifests itself powerfully every single day right in front of us. Maybe not as dramatically as it did for me that day years ago. Nevertheless, you have a coworker or a neighbor or a grocery store clerk or a greeter at your local Wal Mart with a pain just as searing as this woman's. And you have the absolute power and authority to speak DIRECTLY to that pain and turn it around.

As far as the nameless girl in Miami, I don't know if she'll ever realize or believe that there is someone right now..that still hears the cry of her heart. That she isn't alone, and never was. And that I mourn for her, and celebrate her birth. That there is another human being that, through the heart of the Living God..sees her pain and would give anything to be able to protect her from now on. I ask that you remember her. Maybe not like the McDramaPants that I am. But think of her the next time it seems easier to walk past the pain, instead of addressing it. All you have to do is say 'Hi'.

So here's your challenge! Listen to the song in the youtube video deal above. It's by Casting Crowns and it's called 'Does Anybody Hear Her.' Then, make an effort, every *listen* to your annoying coworker. Hear him or her and respond directly to what they're saying.

The next time you hear them say they like something, remember what it is. Whether it be their favorite color or M&M's and surprise them with it next week. If they say they like big Victorian Houses or something though, you're on your own with that one.

Do it. and then let us know, respond to this post..and tell us what you did and how the other person responded. K STOP READING HURRY UP IMMEDIATELY! GIT ER DONE!


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Sunday, April 27, 2008

♥The Clinic♥

All images copyright respective owners,original image from, subsequent manipulation by Sanctity of Life

There was a young, single mother we've all probably known at some point. Different face, different place...same girl. She has nothing and no one, save a vomitting four year old with a temperature of 103. Mom doesn't know what's wrong or how to fix it; only that between government red tape, and an income that straddles the line between destitute and median poor on paper manifests it's basic consequences through offering a choice between groceries and gas in her old car. This woman takes her baby girl to a health department clinic, but only if they have room to see her daughter. The sliding scale fee system is still pretty unreasonable, but a puking, listless little girl is worth the gas money she'll be using, and in turn have to sell the little left she has to recoup a week's drive to work. The hours of waiting, (true story. it really is, about a 4 hour wait to be seen at a health department clinic) the luck she depends on to hope someone can see her child, and the medicaid she bounces on and off of every time she gets a pennies per hour raise drive her insane when her daughter is still sick, and work demands an explanation for why she's not there.

Enter Dr. Lorna Stuart of 'The Clinic' in Phoenixville, Pa. After 22 years of private practice, Dr. Stuart vowed to do whatever she could to reach out to every faceless mother, child, father, sister brother. She gave her whole heart, and her own home to open a place where people could come and see hope in the face of their illness. Her dream has not only been able to afford these people medical care in 8 medical specialities, but it's allowed those who live in financial no-man's land to finally have a face and a name in a system that seems to be built to keep them down.

Dr. Stuart's practical application of the tender dream in her own heart has helped to treat over 40,000 patients. She asks for absolutely nothing in return.

Every single one of us can *do* something. The Clinic is proof of that. Celebrating the sanctity of life is about using exactly who you are to practically reach out to the hurting and the lost. Dr. Stuart has proven this fact, 40,000 times. Can you make a sammich? Do you work at a gas station? Bet you can make a pot of coffee...See? You CAN extend hope to those that live in darkness. Regardless of your religious or political affiliation, the ground at the foot of judgement is most CERTAINLY level. If our future was predicated upon the past, we'd all be in some serious trouble. Don't look at others for what they've done or where they've been. Choose to see a need, choose to MEET that need, and then watch beauty bloom in the dirt you could've condemned that person for and chose not to.

The very BEST way to heal your broken heart is to start by helping to heal some one else's. Like Dr. Stuart is doing today Visit The Clinic's website, Donate a buck .It's very easy to rage against the injustice and pain you see everyday; point fingers..lay blame.

The noble thing is to do something about it. We are the sum total of the small things we think don't matter. Do a bunch of those small things and find out what kind of shiny beautiful thing you will become, from the inside out

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♥Nathalie Calderon♥

Nathalie Calderon is an awesome dancer. At 17, she's been dancing for four years with
Georgio's American Dancer Center in Orlando, Florida. Not longer after undertaking formal training, Nathalie was chosen for the Center's apprentice company.

Her main concentration is ballet, but she is also proficient in tap.

This girl's talents are centered upon performance art, and she's super good at it.

She's also got only one leg.

Nathalie couldn't see why she couldn't dance just like the cousin who inspired her, and never told or showed her instructor that she only had one leg until she was accepted into the apprentice company.

Check out her video. If she can do it with one leg, and only get mad because her prosthetic leg won't let her wear flip flops,

what in the world can *YOU* do, with both legs?

As my mammaw always said:

'Can't never could do anything.'

Pay close attention as you watch, the way she moves is beyond beautiful.


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