Friday, August 28, 2020

Signs of the times

Today I heard that the courts had given the governor power to levy fines from one law as a consequence for breaking a different law. I’m weary, weary from watching liberty worn away because we have to be “safe.”


I’m especially weary of trendy Christian publishing and churches, stating that we must embrace the “safe” agenda in order to be loving. Is it not loving to preserve liberty?


I think of Christians like Bonhoeffer and Niemoller, who challenged the good Christian citizens of Germany. I’m not calling anyone a Nazi and I’m thankful we are not yet seeing Christians in the U.S. carried off to concentration camps. But I wonder, so I rewrite Niemoller’s famed quote.

——



First they came for the first right to assemble, and I did not speak because I had social media.


Then they came for businesses, but I did not speak because I did not own a business.


They came for the right to work, and I did not speak because the government would provide me income.


They came for freedom of religion, but I did not object because I could meet on Zoom. 


They came for freedom of speech, but I did not object because some might perceive history as offensive.


They came for the right to private property, but I did not object because one race had been treated as property hundreds of years ago, when others of their own race caught them and sold them to traders.


They came for my right to privacy, but I did not object, because someone might get the virus.


They came for the Christians, but I cannot object because my faith is offensive and dangerous. I depend on the government for support. And I have no rights.


——


I do remember it must be so. Throwing aside citizenship and liberty will only fulfill Revelation 17:17.  “For God hath put in their hearts to fulfill his will, and to agree, and give their kingdom unto the beast, until the words of God shall be fulfilled.”


And when that prophecy is fulfilled, Jesus will come. Come quickly, Lord Jesus, and make us ready before.


My Dad is a Cowman

My dad is a cowman.


We are riding in a pasture with 25 head, many of them black. Cows are lying down and standing. A quarter mile away, legs hidden in deep grass, head shaded by the tree, a solid black cow stands. 


“That’s mine,” he says. “I can tell by the way she moves.”

Lesson from a Little

We had been helping Seth tie fence. The girls were tired and ready for lunch (I was, too). I was driving across the pasture when I hit a hole, a deeper hole than I had seen the whole time and one of which I was completely unaware. Jael slid, Kate’s seat bounced, I jammed my arm into the steering wheel sending a sharp pain up my shoulder - and I feared that we would be stuck. Pushing the gas pedal, I said, “Oh dear God!” And Jael said, “Praise God.”


Yes, she is right. Praise God.


(Any time she falls and gets hurt now, she tearfully says, “Praise Jesus.”)

This is your life

This is your life/Are you who you want to be?

This is your life/Is it everything you dreamed that it would be?


An old camp song that I never really liked, these two lines nevertheless haunt me occasionally and the answers… come.


This is my life…


Gone are the mornings of getting up early for coffee and quiet time before facing the world. I get up pretty early, but it’s as late as my Littles will let me sleep, and I usually get to sip one cup of coffee while nursing one and reading to the other before diving into breakfast and dishes.


Real breakfast, mind you. No more granola or cheese toast. We eat three real meals a day - granted one is usually simple (sandwiches or leftovers), but I cook meals. Maybe it’s our farming heritage lived out; certainly, trying to maintain a healthy diet plays in… Whatever the case, there’s no fast food to which we can resort and much of my time is consumed in the kitchen.


Breakfast done, I hunt for a window for exercise without my two year old using me as a jungle gym. We have to feed our chickens, and potty breaks may take up to 30 minutes. The baby usually takes a long nap, so I can tackle dishes, laundry, and lunch prep, but we wait for her to visit the clothesline because she enjoys sunshine and sticks.


Most days their dad comes in for lunch, then we read stories before naps. I always have lofty plans of writing or scrapbooking while they sleep, but paying bills or doing books for Seth’s shop wins out…if they let me sleep the night before AND they nap simultaneously. It often seems that the day is gone by mid-afternoon, because little girls waken best with lots of snuggles, books, maybe a tea party and another visit to the barn. We come in to fix supper and visit with Dad before beginning a bedtime routine.


And every day has a twist. Those precious mornings for chores sometimes are appropriated to hauling wood or fixing fence. Perhaps we have herbs to pick and dry or flowers to plant in the yard. We might check a water or feed some mineral in an afternoon with Dad, or  even have a ranch tour with Pops (my dad). Sundays we celebrate with church, and about once a week we brave some other trip - to Claunch to the post office, to town for groceries, to Mumzie’s (my mom’s), or maybe we have a bit of company. Come spring and fall, mornings come early and whole days are spent outside with the cows. 


All this sounds wonderful. And this is my life. I am who I want to be - wife, mom, daughter, rancher, homemaker. I am also a vessel needing the power of God to maintain not only peace and patience, but also my sanity…The excitement of interruptions is always balanced by the neediness created when routines are changed. That, and the frustrations of sinners in an imperfect world.


You see, it’s everything I dreamed it would be, and more. I didn’t dream about washing out dirty diapers or staying up at night. I didn’t dream about the impossibility of keeping up with housework or putting all my projects on hold, feeling like I must be lazy, yet too drained to do anything more. And I certainly didn’t dream about the fact that my routines really aren’t routines at all (and this is why none of the sleep training books work for me!). It is a rare day that my plans work out. If Dad and Pops don’t make a different plan, the girls have some complication that takes my time and attention. Which is all fine and good, except…


Unrealistic expectations can become an idol. And when I get frustrated by my seeming lack of achievement, when I get frustrated at whatever drop by mechanic customer, potty training accident, or failed recipe that messes up my plans, when I am frustrated because I can’t be in all my roles at one time - things go badly. I get cranky. I get aggravated at my children being children. I mistreat my husband and grumble at life…Because who I am is a sinner saved by God’s grace and daily seeing my need for it more. 


When I cast down the idols and leave Jesus on the throne, I see so much more than I dreamed! A baby playing with a rocking horse and headband in complete joy. A two year old quoting her books as she wakens from her nap. Happy days in the sunshine as they play in the dirt or cool morning breezes while my husband points out the sunrise. I could not have dreamed of these things because I did not know they could be. 


This is my life. I am who I want to be (by the grace of God, who is making me!). This is my life. It is everything I dreamed that it would be. And more. Except -


It isn’t perfect. The one dream left is heaven, where Jesus is. Perfect.

Thankful in These Times

Disclaimer: I’ve tried to not bother writing much about politics or the pandemic. It seems we have all settled into our camps of opinion. The Fox News camp, the CNN camp, the Facebook FactCheckers, the militia, the students of alternative medicine. …. And we all gather information to support our opinion. So this is not so much about COVID (or politics in general) as it is about how I see God working in little ways, caring for little details of my life.


----


I’ve been thinking during this “pandemic,” this time of “unprecedented turmoil” (oh, how I tire of the word unprecedented), of the things for which I never knew I would be thankful.


Once I considered dating a guy who was a theological student and wanted to be a missionary. Like most of us on the Generation X/Millennial line, he was adept in acquiring electronic information.  I bet he would want me to wear a mask and social distance.


When Seth and I were dating, we thought we would live in Cortez. I don’t know what that would have been, but I know I would have had to find a new circle of friends and lean on only a little bit of family. And I know without the ranch, my girls and I would have had to “live” much more publicly. I have a friend who lives near town and has been truly isolated during this time, for her friends were all scared to gather.


For a while, I wished we were close enough to attend this church or that, churches I knew preached the gospel and loved people. And now - some because of conviction, some for population’s sake, some by pressure of location, these churches have complied with the governor’s orders.


And I’m thankful that these things are not.


I know many of you will disagree with me. The “pandemic” is not a gospel issue. Yes, there are Biblical principals to apply, but how they are applied and which are primary really depend on cultural issues. Where do you get your news? How do you view alternative opinions in medicine? How important is the Constitution and what do view as the government’s role? How do you determine truth in current events? How do you look at history? Every answer is like a turn in a maze, the center of which becomes the Christian conclusion of a politicized dilemma, leaving with much more a question of culture than of godliness. 


But I’m thankful that God has yoked me with a common culture. Although I thought he was a bit too political when I married him (:-), I’m now so thankful for a husband who isn’t afraid to read and dissect the news and beyond, one who encouraged me to abandon Facebook (even though I miss your updates and the pictures of your kids). 


I’m thankful that I live - and I mean really live, every day - where I don’t have to go out in “public.” I don’t have to face the controversy. I’m thankful for the network of people around me who realize that neither news nor politicians are bound to the truth. I’m thankful for aunts (uncles, and cousins!) on my mom’s side who study health and history voraciously, finding facts.  I’m thankful for uncles, aunts and cousins on my Dad’s side who would rather live in Constitutional liberty  - to really live and do and care about people - than to exist only electronically. I’m thankful for my parents and in-laws, for friends and neighbors, who see death as fact and life as fragile every day, with or without a virus.


I’m thankful for my church, a church where the gospel is paramount and the Word is preached. A church where liberty is valued as a gift of God and standing for it is an act of love. A church of practicality, who strive to be wise as serpents and harmless as doves.


Jesus said persecution is coming. The epistles say we need to be a sweet savor of the gospel, yet a peculiar people. We know truth will not be popular. And we know we will not be popular. As those times come, by God’s grace, may I continue to be thankful.

——

Because they asked

I was single for a long time; I married late in life even for the “culture of the day,” and very late for the family-oriented homeschool community which so profoundly influenced my life. Single girls have asked me for insight into how best to serve God and what to do in days of singlehood. I don’t always have answers, but I do have words to answer one question.


How did you know when it was time to look - why did you finally get on Christian mingle?


I didn’t for a long time. I remember one pastor cautioning me to not be Abraham turning to Hagar, missing God’s plan and promises for one of my own. And I wanted to wait on the Lord. I had so many opportunities, a full and busy life with great privileges of serving God and others. There were times when I thought I might be content to be single in a ministry role forever; I thought I didn’t need a spouse to help me in my walk. And there were times when I absolutely was not content and wondered why God did not grant me a husband, home, and family.


I alternated in those seasons for many years, and never did I feel free to look. I let people talk of matching me up and I didn’t avoid opportunities; maybe I was a little embarrassed to look online. Mostly, I didn’t feel freed by the Spirit - I felt that if I went advertising my desire for marriage I would wind up with some warm body that was far less than God’s plan.


Then came a really hard season in my life. I wished I had a husband to support me through it, but felt unqualified to marry. It was a season that ended with total release and total restoration, not of good cheer, but of joy, of knowing that God was enough. That I might not want to be single in that place forever, but He would support me and I would be blessed if I were. More importantly for the question at hand, it was a season of realizing my own sin. I was saved as a child, and I’d had numerous “moments” with God acknowledging my helplessness and confessing my sins (specific ones!), but it was in this season that I came to realize the inherent sin saturating my humanity. I realized that no matter how hard I tried to address my problems, they would arise again. I realized how weak I was, how prone to self deception and justification of wrongdoing. And I cried out to God, acknowledging how much I needed Him; this was followed by a cry for a companion to walk with me, but this time it was not a demand.


And at this time, the online dating story began to unfold. I was a little nervous, but in no way did I feel I was leaving God’s will, refusing to be content where He had put me. In my mind, I was Rebekah, going out to meet the servant who’d take me to Isaac (OK, it’s a stretch, but…)


On this note, I will add one more word of wisdom (this is your cue to look suspicious). We communicated without meeting for almost four months, dated for almost  four months, and were engaged for almost four months. We lived miles apart for most of that time, and even after Seth moved nearby, he was almost like a guest, for his life wasn’t established where we were. I’ll be very blunt here and say I did not realize all of his shortcomings. Maybe I missed the clues, maybe it moved too fast, but I didn’t expect all the struggles we’ve had.


And he didn’t realize mine. As a matter of fact, I didn’t realize all of my shortcomings. I didn’t know the sides of me that would come out when life was out of my control or when I was tired. The fact that God had brought me to a point of acknowledging my own sinful sinfulness has allowed Him to bring us through it. I realize how very, very good God is when I look back at how He has worked to bring me a husband who is better to me and better for me than I could ever have dreamed.


I want to fix Seth, of course, but acknowledging my sin, my weakness, my helplessness allows me to let God do the work. think that everything I might have “nixed the relationship” over was hidden, so I could watch God grow and admire my husband’s heart more than I ever could have had he come to me “perfect.” And to do that, I had to realize my own role of dependence on the Savior.


That, my dear girls, is my word of wisdom. Don’t go husband hunting because you don’t know what to do with your life. Don’t go husband hunting because you think “I’m content so I’ll choose well.” Go husband hunting because you know God is enough and He has a plan for your life, but you need Him - and gives you peace to seek someone to walk with you toward Him.


Friday, March 27, 2020

Acacia's Birth Story (Maybe I'm a little sentimental)

One cannot relive a memory every day, and even as we try, we lose the details and perhaps a bit of the emotion. Sometimes this is good. Pain fades, hurt feelings lose their power to foster bitterness, anger abates. Sometimes it is not. I do not wish to lose the joy of birth, the sweet peace of moments with my babies. 

And so I begin, writing a letter to my sweet Acacia of her life, a letter for her, for me, and to share with those who love us. )I might mention that this baby was the baby of emotions - I will never forget crying as I heard “Little Joe the Wrangler” - for the umpteenth time, but never before with tears.)

Precious Kate, from the time we knew you were coming, we were excited. And almost from he time we heard your heartbeat - certainly by the time I felt you kick - I called you Kate. Your dad picked your name, Acacia, beautiful tree of the Bible, but I had to call you something until he did so! 

I thought you were going to come before Christmas… before it was really safe for you to come. One night the labor pains were strong and I worried. You waited, and contractions came other days, but I knew it wasn’t time. Your due date drew near and I grew tired of being pregnant. Pops said it looked like you might drop out the bottom of Mama’s huge stomach and no one asked IF I was pregnant any more - only when you were due! But Jael was busy and I was tired and I told Dad-dad that if oxytocin were the happy hormone needed for labor you would never come because we were always dealing with some small tragedy!

On Thursday, the 9th, we went to Pops and Mumzie’s to visit. All of my “to-do” list was done and Dad-dad had to go work there. I lay down with Jael for a nap at 1:30, and I felt a contraction…a nd a couple more kept me from sleeping long. We visited with Mumzie a bit when she got up and I decided to try to see if these contractions were for real, so we wandered to the barn and came back to visit more. They were often enough and strong enough that I hesitated to drive home, so we waited for Pops and Dad-dad to finish with the fence so Dad-dad could drive us home. “Call us if you need me,” said Mumzie as we left. We stopped in Claunch to feed our cows and I commented how much more painful the contractions were in the car. By the time we got home, I was sure I needed to call the midwife and I texted Mumzie.

The midwife’s name was Tiffany. We’d talked about fast labor and false labor and her coming immediately, but when I called, she questioned how strong and frequent the contractions were. I didn’t know how to describe it accurately. She said, “Well, do you want me to come now?” I thought, “I’m calling you. DUH!” But I said, “Well, I think you should for peace of mind’s sake. I doubt it’ll be right away so you don’t have to rush, but….” She said, “I’ll grab a bite to eat and be on my way.” That was at 5:30.

Meanwhile, I put a few things away and tried to help Dad-dad find supper for Jael, but finally the contractions were too strong and I went to my bed. With each one, I prayed out loud (because I had been told not to close my mouth or grit my teeth), “God, please help this baby come fast!” Meanwhile, Dad-dad and Jael were eating… and he was listening, wondering how he would help me and watch Jael.

Mumzie and Pops arrived just as the others finished eating, maybe a little after 6. Mumzie helped me get the bed ready, and braced me during contractions, while Pops read to Jael and played with her. Both Mumzie and Dad-dad were with me when things got really close - Dad-dad had tried to call Tiffany, who’d promised to walk us through anything important on the phone, but she had no service. I threw up, and then I needed the bathroom and then Mumzie asked, “Are you pushing?” 

“I don’t know” (and Dad-dad began cleaning up my mess on the bed). “I think the baby’s coming!” for I felt your little head…And I yelled.

“Well, for goodness sake!” exclaimed Mumzie, for they’d barely gotten through the last mess.

One, two, three pushes, and you were out. I was turning over to hold you as they handed me towels and wrapped you up. You were so slippery, so tiny, so purple, so wrinkled, so dark. The observations were innumerable, and my feelings so scattered. I was relieved and delighted and muddled. To hold you, to see you, to know you were real I thought would bring tears, but I was so happy to be done that the relief brought a smile. 

It was 6:55 when Pops heard the first cry. He brought Jael in and they came to see you and to share the joy. The next hour is a blur of you nursing, of Mumzie coaching me so the placenta would come, of Tiffany on the phone because I had a blood clot, but mostly of an odd sense of normalcy, that this is just the way things should be. 

When Tiffany came (at 8:00), she got the blood clot out and cut your cord and coached me through all the things recovery involved - expecting me to even eat in bed because of pelvic floor damage. Eating in bed only lasted as long as she was here, although I did try to otherwise rest for a week as commanded. You and I spent a lot of time in our room in the rocking chair.

She gave us all your stats: 7 pounds, 6 ounces (although you shrank to 7-1 during the first few days), 19 inches long, a head diameter of 13 inches. You looked much longer - your legs and feet and fingers and toes were so long. We were sure you took after my side of the family, although everything about you was remarkably skinny. Your cry was deep and hearty. You didn’t cry much, but when you did, we knew it! Your skin was remarkably dark and your eyes a dusky blue; you had a head full of dark hair… Somehow we knew you would transform your looks.

Tiffany also had to examine you, and found an extreme tongue tie, which she snip, snip, snipped. You had to learn to nurse all over again, and it was nearly 11 pm before we were left in peace. I think you had been stimulated a little too long, for you did not sleep peacefully 6 hours, but we made it through the night.


The next morning is one of my favorite memories, sweet Kate.  It was a snowy, cold morning, though I couldn’t see that except when I wandered to a window. I lay in bed nursing you, and listening. I could smell coffee, and hear the fires warming our cold house, watching the flames nearby. Pops and Dad-dad were in the kitchen fixing breakfast. Mumzie was changing Jael’s diaper. And here we were, all my favorite people, in my house, all celebrating you, my precious peaceful little life.








Of Coyotes, Copernicus, and the Constitution: My Reactions to Coronavirus Updates



I started out writing a critical thinking paper to examine two sides of an issue. I wound up with a journal.


I was fascinated by coronavirus news long before the craze for social distancing hit the United 
States. I struggled to understand the reality of the problem and the reason for people’s reactions. Every morning my iPhone would provide at least three headlines on the topic from CNN, the Washington Post, or some other mainline source, and I devoured it.

Now the coronavirus is here. The feds are up in arms. New Mexico’s governor is acting. Everyone on Facebook is reacting. And my phone provides multiple headlines a day with very little other news.
——
It seems to me that most people are in one of two camps. The vast majority of my Facebook friends, and apparently most of America, are very worried about the coronavirus. Their mantra is “have some concern for our most vulnerable populations!” And they like to say/write that if, in a few months, the coronavirus dies out and few people were harmed, “that’s the point,” (that’s why we had stay at home orders, etc.). I think you’d agree that popular media supports this view, that coronavirus is dangerous and the government is responsible to protect people from it. Certainly, if the government is protecting people and causing them to have financial difficulties, the government should assure economic protection and compensation.

The benefits appear manifold. We’ll flatten the curve, not overwhelm hospitals, save lives. AND, 
America’s over exhausted families will rest. Parents will understand what is happening in schools and children will have a chance to learn of life. People will reconnect and pollution will diminish while cows do not. I hope. I hope.

(But… such fear from this push. Fear that crowds the ER with people not in critical condition, fear that causes resentment toward the rural who must go to town for medical care. And I fear. I fear for the children at home with unstable parents, fear for those suffering from domestic abuse undetected. I fear for those with underlying medical conditions or those needing routine preventative care. I fear for the psychiatric effects of cutting off relationships. And I fear that governmental and economic effects will be far more damaging than commonly imagined.)
——

Then there’s the other camp. I’m not talking about the conspiracy theorists (whom I’ve spent little time reading about) or the thugs spraying off duty nurses with Lysol. I’m avoiding the extremes. I’m just talking about people who maybe aren’t as concerned over coronavirus and the handful who maybe don’t expect the government to do anything…It takes more time to understand this view because we don’t really hear about it much. And I might work backward here, and talk about government actions first. 

I will interrupt, though, with a question it seems few are asking, a little of my own opinion. If the government is going to provide money in the crisis at all, where will it come from? We are already in debt. Tax the richest? Taking all their money will only last a few months. I’d rather keep my quarter than give the government a dollar so they can give me a quarter back.

The Constitution

Camp Two encompasses quite a few people concerned about the loss of rights involved in shelter in place/social distancing mandates. Second amendment, second part, guarantees Americans the right to assemble. Struck down in many states, including New Mexico. Right to private property, as in - use of property, right to profits from business  - guaranteed by the end of the fifth amendment, but also struck down through orders resulting from emergency declarations. Now we’re tracking cell phones to check out compliance with social distancing 

“It’s an emergency” one protests. Did the Founders really create the Bill of Rights assuming it would be ignored in case of emergency? The Supreme Court in 1866 said no (Ex parte Milligan), but the tide turned in the 20th century (see National Emergency and Private Property Rights  ) as World War I opened doors for multiple presidents to follow Abraham Lincoln’s example in declaring emergencies as rationale for proceedings outside constitutional limits. Nevertheless the Constitution lists the powers of the government in Section 8 and lockdowns to present sickness are not among them.
—-

I concede that trying to argue the rights of the government (particularly state governments) to declare emergencies is futile, although I still wouldn’t be surprised to see violated rights wind up in court. I would like to mention that South Korea’s strategy, while very invasive in the quarantine and tracking regimes of the infected, relies mostly on voluntary defenses from the people and has not shut the country down, flatly violating the rights of all citizens.

Aside from governmental response, we do face the question - is this an emergency? Smallpox in the US in the early 20th century was highly infectious and killed 20-60% of those infected. It was curbed with governmental- mostly state - input into vaccination and strict quarantine rules for infected households. Tuberculosis is carried unknowingly by up to 13 million people in the US alone, contagious through coughs and sneezes, and causes 500+ deaths each year (1.3 million worldwide). Neither smallpox nor tuberculosis triggered lockdowns.

I wish there were a placebo, a country doing nothing, which we could examine to see how coronavirus would affect the population were it not treated as a governmental problem. The closest thing we have is the Diamond Princess cruise ship, quarantined with the passengers forced to interact. Death rate? 0.91% of those infected (https://www.sciencenews.org/article/coronavirus-outbreak-diamond-princess-cruise-ship-death-rate).

Which brings me to coyotes.

Coyotes

The common defense of party two, the “everyone’s overreacting camp” is that people die from the flu, especially the vulnerable people. They do - and while the death rate of the flu is far lower than coronavirus, the rate of infection is far higher. Using 2019 numbers, it appears that the chance of any one person in the American population dying from the flu is .01%. Using the entire population of passengers on board the Diamond Princess, the chance of any one dying is about .15%. Scary comparison, seeming to make the coronavirus hugely more dangerous.

I have seen another strategy used. Take Italy’s exceptionally high numbers: 8,215 deaths currently. The US population is about 5 times that of Italy, so if 5 times that number of people died, that would be 40,000 people. 36,560 people died in car crashes in 2018 - and the government already regulates traffic. Maybe we should shut down roads and cars as a national emergency.

But I digress. I was going to tell you about coyotes. They outlawed coyote hunting contests in NM because killing them disrupts pack structures, by the way. Anyway we had a cow who had trouble calving and the calf got stuck. The coyote pack ate the calf’s head and shoulders, so the rest of the calf went back into the uterus. Despite a C-section, the cow died. We had another calf who had scours (calf diarrhea due to bacteria, viruses, or overeating). The coyotes chewed off his rear end before we found him, warm, but dead.

So what killed our calves? Did the first die from being stuck, or from the coyotes? Did the mama die from having trouble calving or from exhaustion and infection thanks to the coyotes? Did the second calf die from scours or from the coyotes? Any combination of yes and no is possible. We will never know. Probably the first calf would have died for sure anyway, and the cow, but it’s the second calf brings real doubt to my mind.

Liken the coyotes to the situation at hand. Most coronavirus deaths seem to be in the elderly and those with pre-existing conditions. How many actually died from coronavirus and how many might have died anyway, in approximately the same time period, due to other health conditions? Please don’t tell me I’m being callous and putting my selfishness above the health of the most vulnerable. First of all, stay at home orders have changed pretty much nothing in this stay-at-home mama’s life or finances, so I have no personal complaint. Secondly, my grandma died less than a year ago with a lung and heart condition. One year at Christmas, Jael and I stayed home because Seth had the flu and we didn’t want to give it to her. I understand being cautious and caring for the vulnerable. I’m just not sure coronavirus numbers constitute an emergency. 

Especially when we look at reports of insufficient and inaccurate coronavirus reporting and projecting…. (On insufficient information or mistaken predictions). And check out
this chart of the effectiveness of various strategies in reducing the disease - just quarantining the sick would reduce caseload without a “national emergency.” Even the UK has declared that coronavirus is not a “disease of high consequence” because the death rate is lower than originally thought (and their herd immunity strategy might be working after all!)

But hospitals are overwhelmed! Yes, bless the medical professionals who have to treat every patient as if they have coronavirus whether they do or not and who are thus out of equipment and energy. And thank God (really, please do) that we have private hospitals and research facilities to fill in gaps, something most other countries in the news lack as they depend on socialized medicine. Is scaring everyone to death and shutting down preventative care really an answer? Maybe we should call on good hearted Americans to aid and assist… something many seamstresses are already doing in trying to fill the mask gap, something Ford and GM supposedly are trying to do in providing ventilators, something neighbors are doing for other neighbors.

Yes, I have read many articles on “why coronavirus is dangerous.” There are at least three or four different defenses of why it is more dangerous than other viruses, all involving RNA. Imagine that, the RNA changes how something behaves.  But a few scientists, medical professionals, etc. dare to say it is not so much more dangerous that it cannot be treated without a vaccine. Camp 1, those who believe we are in a time of emergency, say they’re kooks.

Copernicus

Anybody remember Copernicus? Sun, solar system, etc. And Galileo? They’re in our science history books, kind of famous. You know what they were considered during their lifetimes? Kooks, crazy! Good science does not always agree with prevalent science. 

Most interesting to me is the media’s glaring lack of reporting effective treatments and recoveries. Example? On March 9, MedicineNet (pretty mainline website) reported that Chinese doctors were doing clinical trials with intravenous Vitamin C.  I found this in several other mainline publications, along with an explanation of why such a treatment might work. The idea then disappears except on some alternative health websites, which report that it was highly effective. This isn’t “take a vitamin and avoid the virus.” It is much more intense - but far cheaper and more accessible than any pharmaceutical. Either it worked or it didn’t. Popular media doesn’t want us to know.

Likewise missing information…. Where are American recovery numbers? Even when I look specifically at the NM case tolls, I see the phrase “0 recoveries.” Yet my family has personal contact with two cases who have had multiple negative tests, indicating recovery.

How much other news is to be found only on the “kooky websites?” Who is to say they don’t have more truth than the media, which most certainly selectively reports and has been known to falsify? 

Conclusion

There is a abundance of other articles I’ve wanted to share, comments I want to make, arguments I want to have. 

No, not arguments. Discussions. Because I like to to talk to intelligent people with whom I have a relationship. I like to share, to think, not to make people angry or prove how right and how smart I am. And to that end, I have limited myself to this blog, written mainly for self processing and read only by people who are really interested. 

It’s OK if you disagree. It’s OK if you think I am a kook or fool. Please don’t use the slander going around on Facebook about how those who disagree with governmental intervention are uncaring or concerned only for their pocketbooks, for my relationship with God would reprimand such an attitude driving this blog. And my relationship with God, the forgiveness for my selfishness provided by the work of Jesus, is much more important than my opinions on coronavirus.

That is all.