So Much to Fix- Let's Get Started

It has been one of those weeks.  Everything around me seems to need fixing.  First the shower backed up and then my car broke down.  My bike had a flat and the gaping hole in my front yard reminded me of the patio that still needed to be put together.  I spent Saturday morning figuring out the car situation and checking in on the plumber's ETA.  Then some friends came over to help lay pavers for the new patio.  Over coffee and egg sandwiches we fixed the big hole one brick at a time.  With so much still broken around me it felt good to get one thing taken care of, to have one thing fixed.

As we look around the situation in our country it is easy to see that many things are broken.  When it comes to immigration one quickly notices that a lot is severely broken.  Wouldn't it feel good to even get one thiing fixed? This coming week we as a nation have the opportunity to fix at least one thing for thousands of young people.  The Dream Act is being considered as an amendment to the National Defense Authorization Bill.  Senators will be voting this week.  The Dream Act is a bill that provides a conditional path to citizenship for young people who were educated and raised in the United States and yet have no way of legally working.  Currently there are around 65,000 "Dreamers" living in the US.  These students go to college or serve in our military and desperately want to fully participate as Americans. 

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Broken Shells Through the Eyes of a Child

Broken Shells 


Yesterday I was hunting for shells on the beach with my six year old daughter Maeve.  It is one of her favorite beach hobbies and in San Diego we often get really low tides that make the search all the more fun. 

While we were walking the beach together she would run ahead of me, dig out a shell, and run back to ask “Is this a good one?”  Most of the time I would put it in my pocket, but on one occasion, I said, “Nah, it’s broken, we only want the whole ones” and threw it back onto the sand.   

Maeve’s response caught me off guard.  She ran over, picked up the broken piece of clam shell, and said “But it’s still beautiful to me.” 

When we got back to our chairs she showed me a bucket of all of the shells she had found while I was out surfing – more than half of them were broken fragments of shells that at one time had been whole.  Most of us would walk by them on our search for shells that were perfectly complete, but to her, the broken pieces of those once unbroken shells were worth something. 

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