"The atheist's common complaint is that religion is 'escapism.' Peter Kreeft replies that the people most concerned with stamping out escapism are jailers."
— Mark Shea, from his essay John Lennon's "Imagine," "I Can't Imagine a Dumber Song"
Thanks to Yeoman for the tip.
Today's time-waster:
1. Go here.
2. Click "download."
3. Bathe in Clark Burroughs's falsetto.
4. When you're done, go here for more downloads.
5. Thank me.
Annie Banno seeks to enlighten Ellen Goodman to the reality that many women who have aborted their children did so not because it was entirely their own choice, but because they were under strong pressure from others. If you have personal knowledge of such a case, Annie invites you to share it with the columnist, who expresses great cynicism at the idea that such coercion takes place on a wide scale.
Excerpted from Pope Benedict XVI's address on the Apostle Thomas:
... [At the Last Supper,] Jesus, predicting his imminent departure, announces that he will go to prepare a place for the disciples so that they will also be where he is; and he specifies: "And you know the way where I am going" (John 14:4). Then Thomas intervenes, saying: "Lord, we do not know where you are going; how can we know the way?" (John 14:5).
In reality, with these words he places himself in a rather low level of understanding, but [his words] offer Jesus the opportunity to utter the famous definition: "I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life" (John 14:6). Therefore, in the first instance, he makes this revelation to Thomas, but it is valid for all of us and for all times. Every time we hear or read these words, we can be in thought next to Thomas and imagine that the Lord also speaks with us as he spoke with him.
At the same time, his question also gives us the right, so to speak, to ask Jesus for explanations. We often do not understand him. We must have the courage to say to him: I do not understand you, Lord, hear me, help me to understand. In this way, with such frankness, which is the authentic way to pray, to converse with Jesus, we express the littleness of our capacity to understand, but at the same time we assume the attitude of trust of one who expects light and strength from the one able to give them.
Then, very well known, even proverbial, is the scene of Thomas' incredulity, which took place eight days after Easter. Initially, he did not believe that Jesus had appeared in his absence and had said: "Unless I see in his hands the print of the nails, and place my finger in the mark of the nails, and place my hand in his side, I will not believe" (John 20:25). Deep down, from these words emerges the conviction that Jesus is no longer recognized by his face, but rather by the wounds. Thomas believes that the characteristic signs of Jesus' identity are now above all his wounds, in which is revealed to what point he has loved us. In this the apostle is not mistaken.
As we know, eight days later, Jesus again appears to his disciples and on this occasion Thomas is present. And Jesus says to him: "Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side; do not be faithless, but believing" (John 20:27).
Thomas reacts with the most splendid profession of faith of the New Testament: "My Lord and my God!" (John 20:28). In this connection, St. Augustine comments: Thomas "saw and touched the man, but confessed his faith in God, whom he did not see or touch. But what he saw and touched led him to believe that which until then he had doubted" ("In Iohann" 121, 5). The evangelist continues with one last phrase of Jesus addressed to Thomas: "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe" (John 20:29). ...
... The case of the Apostle Thomas is important for us at least for three reasons: first, because it consoles us in our insecurities; second, because it shows us that every doubt can have a luminous end beyond any uncertainty; and, finally, because the words that Jesus addressed to him remind us of the authentic meaning of mature faith and encourages us to continue, despite the difficulties, on the path of fidelity to Him. ...
We now interrupt our regular programming to revisit a television character that frightened untold millions of small children during the 1960s, the 1970s, and beyond. Yes, I'm talking about the "S from Hell," which I first detailed on this blog in June 2003 and now can show you, thanks to the wonders of YouTube.
As I wrote in 2003, the S from Hell is the animated closing-credits logo for Screen Gems, which was used from 1965 through 1974 (and reportedly still appears on some syndicated versions of those shows) and shown at the end of such programs as "The Monkees," "Bewitched," and "The Partridge Family." Its reputation for frightening children apparently stems from its creepy music, though, as S from Hell expert John S. Flack Jr. notes in his hilarious exposition on the subject, the enigmatic animation itself was a factor as well. As Flack notes, "Maybe the whole thing was planned to be a way to get us kids to watch less TV."
Here, posted by YouTube user "BobGaret," is the black-and-white S from Hell, from the end of a first-season "Bewitched" episode in 1965. BobGaret writes, "WARNING: Enjoy at your own RISK!!!"
The incorrupt heart of St. John Vianney, the Curé of Ars, is visiting the New York City region. I'm looking forward to being near a relic of the beloved saint.
Anyone who doubts the strength and vitality of the Church's next generation of priests should check out the impressive moves of the St. Meinrad's and Kenrick-Glennon seminarians at the soccer match they played today. (Hat tip: Dennis Schenkel.)
The ACLU this week put the brakes on its lawsuit to stop Ohio from offering "Choose Life" license plates. The end of the road really came last June, when the United States Supreme Court refused to hear the ACLU's challenge to the federal Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals' decision upholding a similar program in Tennessee. Further litigation would have been hopeless, because Ohio appeals also go to the Sixth Circuit.
As I blogged at this site last May, the Tennessee case was largely pro-choice propaganda masquerading as free speech advocacy. It was litigated by the ACLU's "Reproductive Freedom Unit" and the accompanying press releases repeatedly derided the plate program as "anti-choice." The goal wasn't so much to force the state to allow equal space on plates for pro-choice messages as it was get the pro-life messages off.
The pro-choice motive was at least as overt in the Ohio litigation. Indeed, the ACLU brought the case on behalf of NARAL Pro-Choice Ohio. NARAL, in turn, announced the suit with a blast at crisis pregnancy centers: "[n]ot only are these plates unconstitutional but the money they raise funds centers that often masquerade as clinics to lure in women and give them inaccurate and misleading information."
Despite the recent developments, the license plate controversy is still technically a two-way street. Under the precedents, a staunchly pro-choice state legislature could authorize abortion-friendly plates and prohibit similar opposing displays. But this has never happened: every demand for a pro-choice plate has arisen as "me too" reaction to some pro-life program. The pro-choice lobby apparently views affirmative cheerleading for its cause the same way the pro-life side views abortion: as a very, very dead end.
(HT: BushvChoice)
I'm reading St. Therese of Lisieux's A Story of a Soul now and thought I would also start saying a novena to her that I found on the Web.
The interesting thing about the novena is that, unlike others I've read (and I'm a novena novice), it's different each day. More than that, each day, the person praying the novena is apparently expected to be suffering more, not less, so as to enter into St. Therese's experience (though I have no doubt that the promised rose awaits the reader at the end).
There is something very cool about that which is one of the many reasons I like and love the Catholic faith.
I'm participating in the Walk for Life this Saturday, in which participants may choose a local pro-life charity for which to raise funds. My chosen recipient is Bridge to Life. I've been to Bridge to Life and witnessed firsthand the vital work Eleanor Ruder and her volunteers do to provide for mothers in need of clothing and other necessities for their children.
If you would like to donate to Bridge to Life on the occasion of Walk for Life, click on the donation link near the top of their donation page, or mail a check to The Bridge to Life Inc., 129-20 A 18th Ave, College Point, NY 11356.
Among the other local organizations benefiting from Walk for Life are the Brooklyn chapter of Helpers of God's Precious Infants, a group that prays the rosary and sings hymns outside abortion clinics. The Helpers' Web site contains beautiful and moving video interviews with members of the group.
Former NYPD Officer Steven McDonald is a devoted member of the Helpers — read why.
The more I read Ann Althouse's defending her calling attention to Jessica Valenti's wearing a tight sweater while posing for a photo with Bill Clinton, the more I feel dirty. She tries to excuse herself by claiming that Jessica's Feministing blog exploits women's anatomy — as if two wrongs make a right. Jessica shows images of women looking sexy, so therefore, by Althouse's logic, she deserves to be ridiculed when she wears a form-fitting sweater to meet our adulterous former President. And the ridicule, once started, has to go on, and on, and on, and Althouse has to justify herself up and down, lest she lose her Second Wave feminist credentials.
Ann, if you want to accuse Feministing of having only the breast intentions, I suggest you first get off your ad hominem high horse.
Martin Lampen of the wonderful Bubblegum Machine has decided to gift the world with a big ol' free download of what is either one of the best or worst records of all time, depending on your point of view. No, not "Jack Palance" by the Mighty Sparrow — the other song on the page.
I was visiting Drudge's Web site when I came across a headline that caught my attention as unusual. When I clicked on the link and read through the article, I was appalled. The parents' behavior pretty much sums up the abortion mentality.
When someone—a parent, boyfriend, boss, whoever—wants a baby dead; nothing, absolutely nothing stands in the way. Not adulthood, not the law, not the expectant mother's autonomy or the respect for her decision to carry the baby to term. The truly tragic part is that the parents decide to intervene energetically only after she became pregnant.
Where the hell were they beforehand when the daughter went out with this guy? They strike me as the type who've told their daughter that sex is wonderful, natural but make sure to use protection. However, should the protection fail, there's always the abortion option..Except that the daughter decided against it.
Trevor Romain remembers his friend Tylor Lauck, who would have turned 15 on September 15 had cancer not taken his life last year.
Trevor is planning to publish a book about his experiences with Tylor, drawn largely from the teen's own words. Here is one of my favorite anecdotes of Trevor's that has appeared on his blog (and here too, but it's worth repeating):
“Trevor, this book we are writing together. What should we include in it?”
“We should give people advice on how to handle hard times.”
“Okay. I learned a lot dealing with my treatment so I could offer people advice.”
“Okay, so what advice do you have for people who are facing hurdles in their lives?”
“Jump.”
“What?”
“Jump over the hurdles. Isn’t that what hurdles are there for, to be jumped over?”
“You are one smart cookie Tylor.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Tonight I worked on unpacking one of the boxes remaining from my recent move, going through copies of magazines my late (great-)Aunt Alma had saved that contained her writings. As I paged through the magazines, I thought about where I would put them — on my high, unused kitchen shelves — and wished I had some stackable plastic boxes. I had recently bought some of those clear ones with white plastic lids from Staples, but was reluctant to buy more because they are ugly and because, well, I should be concentraiting on throwing things out rather than storing things.
But those boxes really could help, I thought — especially with my 1,000 cassettes which I will probably never listen to again but can't bear to toss. I could even store some boxes in my oven, which I haven't used since I moved in four and a half months ago.
I broke off unpacking to take a load of clothes downstairs to the laundry room. As I walked out of my unit, I saw my next door neighbor leaving with her hands full of stuff she was apparently taking out to the Dumpster. I had been wanting to meet my neighbor because I had been told she was old and lived alone, and I wanted her to know I was there if she needed help. Whenever I see an old woman, I think about my Aunt Alma and how she needed people to be there for her as she got less able to do things for herself. But I had never knocked on my neighbor's door, because the two building residents who had told me about her had added that she was crazy.
I asked the hunched-over old woman, loaded down with stuff, if I could carry her things for her. She made a sort of grunt that suggested I wasn't needed. I asked her again and she stopped for a moment to put down her load, but then got up and resumed her march toward the door.
I did managed to open the door for her and she grunted a "thank you." Then I brought my laundry downstairs, but quickly went back up because I realized the old woman might not have taken her key. I wouldn't be helping her much if I let her out only to leave her there overnight.
So I let her back in and she grunted a "thank you" again and added in a choked kind of voice that she couldn't talk. I couldn't tell if she was literally unable to talk or if the voices in her head weren't allowing her to talk. Either way, when I got back down to the laundry room, I said St. Maximilian Kolbe's version of the Miraculous Medal prayer for her: "O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for those who have recourse to thee, and those who have no recourse, especially the enemies of the Church, and those who have made their petitions known to thee."
Immediately, as I said the prayer to myself, it hit me
She was throwing away plastic boxes.
Surely, I thought, they must have been old, broken boxes, not the nice ones with the white lids. But I rushed outside just the same.
There they were, stacked neatly next to the Dumpster: Eight clear plastic boxes, like new, just the right size to fit on my kitchen shelves (or in the oven) — and a white lid for each one.
And yes, I am washing them in soap and hot water, even though they appear to be cleaner than anything else in my place.
Jessica Valenti of Feministing and BushvChoice resents becoming "fodder for tacky intern jokes" after posing for a picture with former President Clinton at a blogger lunch. What's worse, she says, is that "this comes from other women, other progressives, and other supposed feminists."
Unfortunately, efforts to objectify and marginalize women come from both sides of the political spectrum and everywhere in between. Jessica and I disagree on virtually everything, but she has my sympathy on this one. (And I say that not just because she's promoted my book.)
All things must come to an end, and it is with a tinge of regret that I announce that the Harris Protocol, while well wrought and worthy of emulation, is no longer required reading for Dawn Patrol commenters.
For example, I will no longer require commenters to support their data. Go ahead, say that 6,000 people each year die from watching vintage Saturday morning cartoons; I'll trust other commenters to request the citation.
I will also no longer enforce little rules I made up that are not specifically cited in the Harris Protocol, such as staying on topic. Oh, I'll get out my "delete" finger if a troll comes along, if someone tries to promote their own blog or another product, or if someone uses profanity (or links to an obscene site), but other than that, let the topics fall where they may.
The problem with the Harris Protocol, and this is not the Harris brothers' fault, is that it assumes commenters will enter into the comments realm as they would enter into a professional debate: with an overriding attitude of courtesy and respect. Without such a foundation, all the rules in the world won't make for reasoned dialogue.
So, in the Harris Protocol's place, I am hereby instituting a single, overriding rule for all commenters to observe:
When you comment on my blog, be nice to other commenters and to me.
Nice doesn't mean syrupy, and it doesn't at all have to be complimentary. It can be witty and it can be edgy. But it is always courteous, respectful, and sincere. When being nice, one may use sarcasm to make a point, but one can never use it as a cover for condescension or personal disgust.
The vast majority of commenters here understand this, and I'm grateful. It's only for the sake of the few who don't that I say this, so that they may take this as their cue to flee to the corners of the blogosphere where not-niceness is tolerated.
I used to think that as long as commenters who displayed personal anger or condescension towards their fellow commenters followed the Harris Protocol, it was worth it for me to tolerate the pall of resentment that darkened their scribblings. Dialoguing with people of alternate views, I thought, might not change their minds on issues, but it could at least change the part of them that wanted to demonize their opponents.
But I started noticing on other blogs that these same commenters whose open resentment I tolerated were bragging about how they took on the [expletives deleted] commenters on the Dawn Patrol.
Well, they can keep bragging now if they want — but they'll no longer be able to express their disrespect for others in this forum.
If your comments are deleted or banned as a result of this policy, and you wish to explain yourself or apologize, drop me a line at the address at left. Thank you for your cooperation.
Here's a thrill of the chaste: The Sept. 25 issue of Publishers Weeklywill have this to say about my book:
The Thrill of the Chaste: Finding Fulfillment While Keeping Your Clothes On
Dawn Eden. W, $13.99 paper (224p) ISBN 0-8499-1311-X
New York Daily News columnist and blogger Eden offers a Christian apologetic for premarital chastity, aimed at “marriage-minded single women who’d had enough of the Sex and the City lifestyle.” Eden herself is a convert to both Christianity and chastity, and now an unmarried 30-something, she’s persuaded that chastity is more “hope-filled” and “vibrant” than sex outside of marriage. She draws on John Paul II’s theology of the body to explain why Christians should reserve sex for marriage; “our bodies are living metaphors of God’s loving nature,” she argues, and to have sex casually is to make a false promise of total commitment. ... [Full review]
How could we not grow up to be children of the sexual revolution, when, as little tykes in the late 1960s and early 1970s, we were subjected to television shows like this?
Today's Dawn Patrol is off-site. It's the story of Dr. Amy Ross, a clinical psychologist who draws upon her own experience with a debilitating disease to help other women who suffer from it.
Kudos to the Newark, N.J., Star-Ledger for giving a platform to a woman who chose life in the wake of 9/11.
For most of us, memories of that terrible day five years ago are personal and anecdotal. It's no different for abortion providers. Over at Planned Parenthood's Web site today, Joan Malin offers her reminisces of 9/11. Bittersweet, they are. Malin recounts both missed opportunities ("[s]ince the attack was early, most clients had not yet arrived") and triumphs ("but some had and we waited for them to awake from anesthesia"). She also relates, with pride, the "charity" described in the previous post: "For two weeks, we offered all of our services free to everyone who needed them."
For former NARAL Pro-Choice President Kate Michelman (writing in her 2005 autobiography With Liberty and Justice for All), the day was also one of mixed blessings. While the tragedy was undeniable, she thought it might inspire us to look deep within ourselves. And perhaps kill whatever we found there: In the days that followed, I thought that, in some small way, some good might be recovered from the ashes of 9/11. The attacks forced us to think about what it meant to be Americans, shocking us into a new appreciation of freedom and tolerance. We were confronted with the specter of religious fanaticism taken to its extreme. Now that our shared ideals -- like democracy and individual rights -- were under such bold attack, perhaps Americans would come to value and appreciate our freedoms more deeply.
Fortuitously, at the time NARAL was running a series of "Choice for America" promoting our most precious "freedom" of all. Michelman recalls that "[m]y personal instinct was that there was no better way to honor the ideals the terrorists had attacked than to continue an open and vigorous dialogue about important issues of personal liberty." Miraculously, however, America did manage to find "better ways" to pay tribute than abortion-hawking ("[w]hen NARAL received a small number of complaints about the propriety of the ads, I immediately directed that they be removed from the airwaves").
The National Abortion Federation has not yet weighed in on the meaning of this sad anniversary. Based on the contributions of Malin and Michelman, I'm hoping for a moment of silence. But don't be surprised if they urge us to let the fallen towers live on in our hearts as the twin pillars of dilation and extraction.
Five years ago this week, I was standing outside the upper West Side headquarters of the American Red Cross of Greater New York, helping the organization manage the streams of would-be volunteers and blood donors who swarmed the building. It was both beautiful and heartbreaking to see how people of every age and background wanted so badly to do something for the survivors, the victims' families, the city, and the country.
Meanwhile, downtown, the powers-that-be at Planned Parenthood were thinking of what they could do to help. In their minds — and I do believe that, in their twisted logic, they sincerely thought they were just doing their part to help — the best thing they could do was offer free "services" to women who were "in need due to the World Trade Center tragedy." Among those services was an untold number of abortions.
Dave Andrusko reported the story in October 2001 in his essay "Beyond Words," reprinted here in its entirety with added links to archived Planned Parenthood press releases:
There can be little doubt that the horrific tragedy of September 11 brought out the best in Americans. Red Cross blood drives in every city in the country, telethons, hundreds of thousands of offers to volunteer, countless imaginative ways of raising money to help the victims' families--what a display of patriotic solidarity. Others, however, saw their obligations in this hour of national emergency quite differently. On the web site of Planned Parenthood of New York City, we read this on September 18:
"Planned Parenthood of New York City Offers Free Reproductive Health Care in Wake of World Trade Center Tragedy."
No, this is not a misprint. This is what PPNYC chose to offer.
"Planned Parenthood of New York City (PPNYC) extends our sympathies to all who have suffered a loss in the tragic events of last week. To provide for the many New York women who have been displaced or may otherwise be in need due to the World Trade Center tragedy, PPNYC will be offering complete reproductive health care from Sept. 18-22 free of cost."
Included in the "reproductive health care" that would be provided through "state-of-the-art clinical services, education and professional training, and advocacy" is abortion.
Even as just a few miles away firemen and emergency rescue workers were digging through the rubble of the World Trade Center for victims of the terrorist attacks, PPNYC was assuring women that while they were encouraged to make appointments, PPNYC "will do our best to accommodate walk-ins."
Three days later, Joan Malin, Planned Parenthood of New York City's CEO, extended the "free services," gleefully noting, "The response has been overwhelming. PPNYC health centers have been booked to capacity and have had 100% show rates for appointments."
What to say?
No one should expect that the leopard will change its spots. Planned Parenthood of New York City (or any other place) sees the world very differently than do you and I.
But at this particular mo-ment in time, to subsidize the taking of innocent life, to pat themselves on the back for helping to make sure that no baby goes unaborted just because their mother lacks the money to take his/her life, is incomprehensible.
The rest of America conducts car washes, donates blood, pledges money, consoles families who've lost members to terrorists, and prays each night that our nation remains strong and united.
Planned Parenthood of New York City underwrites the elimination of unborn babies.
It's beyond words.
It's beyond comprehension.
It's beyond obscene.
I received a great surprise in today's Sunday Times of London: Reporter Tony Allen-Mills' story "Plan to lose virginity on net excites interest, and anger quotes the op-ed of mine that appeared last week. A couple of details seem to have gotten lost in translation — I'm not an executive, and my book isn't for teens — but it's wonderful press just the same.
My friend Richard J. Stuart writes in an e-mail:
When reading your Chesterton, I'm sure that one thought burns in your mind. Namely, "How would Yoda say that?" Never fear; we now have the answer thanks to this Web site: yodaspeak.co.uk.
Examples:
Go with the stream, a dead thing can, but go against it, only a living thing can. Yes, hmmm.
To be fallacies, fallacies cease not because they become fashions. Yes, hmmm.
Also be sure and check Yoda's favorites, e.g. :
One who feeds a crocodile, an appeaser is, eat him last, hoping it will. Hmmmmmm.
You criticize someone before, his shoes walk a mile in. That way, when you criticize him, be a mile away, you will, and have his shoes, you will. Hmmmmmm.
To keep up with the virgin kick this blog has taken lately — and to acknowledge that I was a pretty awkward virgin myself (though I at least had an excuse; no master's degree), here is a song I wrote and sang about my sorry state of dumped-itude back in 1990: "You Did Me Wrong." All the vocals are mine; all the instruments are played by Joe Ward.
It is embarrassing sharing this tune with the world, but I am consoled by the fact that, for all its derivativeness and corniness, the recording is — if I do say so myself — terribly catchy. I remember hearing the finished demo and thinking about how, whatever people might say about me after I die, at least my gravestone could conceivably read, "She wrote a catchy song."
Note to audiophiles: Sorry about the dropouts. If you'd like a cleaner version, e-mail me.
UPDATE: Jessica Valenti of NARAL's BushvChoice, who likes to give me free publicity, invites her readers to get snarky about my tune. While I think Valenti realizes I wrote it pre-chastity (chastity and virginity not necessarily going together, as Jane's "29-Year-Old Virgin" could attest), her readers seem to believe I was even then some sort of Wendy Shalit-in-training. One of them comments:
... I am still friends with about 1/2 of the people that I've slept with. In fact, I talk to a few of them on a regular basis; we're friends.I didn't know that Dennis Miller was ghostwriting comments for Feministing.
And none of them "Did Me Wrong" because I made the choice to sleep with all of them and am willing to take responsibility for any outcome. I hate the idea that just because a woman slept with a lying bastard, she's suddenly the victim. Get off the cross, we need the wood to build a Planned Parenthood.
Kreuz.net, which is apparently a Catholic blog out of Germany, has published what appears to be a very kind and positive profile of me. The information in it was taken mostly (perhaps entirely) from the interview I gave to the National Catholic Register.
Here is a translation of the Kreuz.net piece from Google's always-entertaining automatic translator:
Like Mrs. Eden the Paradies identification one US American from Jewish family reported recently, how she became catholic after the correction of an article. The bekehrte lady journalist Dawn Eden (, new jersey) Dawn Eden kreuz.net buildup in a liberal Jewish family and spent the majority of her life in the US Federal State new jersey in the northeast of the United States. She is by occupation a lady journalist. At the end of July told Mrs. Eden of the US weekly paper `national to Catholic register', as she became first Protestantin and found then the church. `The Catholic register' is national in the possession of the Legionäre Christi. It falls all Jews heavily to recognize Christ - Mrs. Eden explained. The Bekehrung for liberal Jew is particularly difficult, because they would not have understanding for a personal God. For it give it only a nebuloses more higher - somewhere there outside. Mrs. Edens Bekehrungsgeschichte began in December 1995. At that time it led an interview with the Rocker Ben Eshbach. This mentioned in the discussion that it was the straight novel „the man, Thursday “from Gilbert Keith Chesterton († 1936) reads. Mrs. Eden works also as AutorinDaraufhin read Mrs. Eden the book likewise. It fascinated it so much that it devoured all books of Chesterton. But to God it did not find therefore yet. In the year 1999 Mrs. Eden for the web page of a Palestinian employer worked. The conflicts in Palestine affected also the employer-employee relationship negatively. In this time Mrs. Eden fell in depressions and had even suicide thoughts. In its dark hours it began to read in the new will. Their nut/mother - that was converted to the Christianity already - she encouraged to pray Psalm 27. In the prayer Mrs. Eden Kraft received to change their working premises. Shortly thereafter she heard a woman voice in the evening in bed: „With some things it is not sufficient to know it. One must understand it. “ Mrs. Eden understood that she had to become acquainted with God not by exterior knowledge, but by the faith: „I fell on the knees and asked Jesus to come into my heart. “ That was the time, when she could be baptized. Later - in the year 2001 - it followed two years `the New York town center Chesterton Society'. Further two years later Mrs. Eden in the life protection became actively. On its Web log `The Dawn Patrol, began it the Kinderschlächtereien of Planned Parenthood - `per famlia' - anzuprangern. Because of this commitment one began to make it in January 2005 at their working premises difficulties. She worked at that time at the US daily paper `New York post office' as Korrektorin. It had also the task to adjust one-sided articles. Once objektivierte Mrs. Eden a glorifizierenden report on artificial fertilization. It added in the text that with the disputed procedure of about ten children, but only in each case one witnesses into the Gebärmutter is transplanted and survive may. The reporter was enraged about these changes and demanded the dismissal of the Korrektorin. Also the editor-in-chief of the daily paper explained that he was very anxious over Mrs. Edens Blog „“. Finally it dismissed it. In this difficult time Mrs. Eden a friend in the sky looked for herself. On catholic homepage she found to the holy Maximilian Kolbe, which was introduced there as a patron of the journalists. During the reading of its life history it broke out in tears - the Protestantin at that time reports: „I spoke with him as with a friend and asked him to regard as me Fürsprache. “Is in-turned after it göttlicher peace into its heart. Up to this time it had gesträubt itself against the catholic holy admiration: „As I to the holy Maximilian to pray nevertheless began, I understood, for which it went. “ During its difficulties with the work a solidarity with the catholic church developed in it. This has the longest history of pursuit, in addition, persistence behind itself. Mrs. Eden wanted to belong to it. Finally it met very eager priests with a Wallfahrt in July 2005: „You accepted me as I were. I wanted to be because of their generosity in their proximity. “ Less than one year later - in the Easter eight 2006 - Mrs. Eden was accepted to the church. In the meantime she found also new working premises. She works as deputy Nachrichtenredaktorin at the daily paper `New York DAILY one news'.
On her Virgin Chronicles blog, Sarah DiMuro responds to "recent press" by yours truly:
[My sister and I] got a kick out of recent press claiming that JANE is pimping me out.;) I went to Smith College and have a master's degree, people!! Do you think I am so docile to allow a magazine to just 'pimp' me out? I'm a virgin, guys, not a patsy!! I think that finding someone with whom you have a connection is pretty spectacular. Who cares if other people are in on the fact that I am a virgin? It may seem like an unusual approach but, hell, being a 29-year-old virgin is pretty unusual as well. ...
Also, Noam won last week's reader poll. This should be intriguing since he kind of reminds me of a young Hugh Heffner in his photo.
Please keep up prayers for the recovery of Lisa Nanney, wife of Joseph Shipman, whose daughter Francesca Marie was stillborn. Joseph writes, "Her blood pressure seems to have stabilized at last and we hope she will get out of the hospital tomorrow, but she is still going to have to take it very easy for a while."
Good morning! Today's Dawn Patrol is off-site — but you can comment below. Also see the Jane magazine Web site.
Joseph and Lisa Shipman's baby, Francesca Marie, was stillborn. Please see my original prayer request for details and to leave condolences.