This Christmas, Renew Your Faith and Rekindle the Christmas Story

by Anita S. Lane

It’s the most wonderful time of the year! It’s also the perfect time to share with others why the birth of Christ is significant to us as Christians. At a time in American Society when “Merry Christmas” is being eliminated as a greeting and replaced with “Happy Holidays” or “Seasons Greetings,” it’s important that we let our light shine.

Allow me to remind you why we celebrate this holiday…Just over 2000 years ago, before there were silver bells and mistletoe, there was a baby born in the town of Bethlehem. He was conceived of the Holy Spirit by a virgin. He was born in a manager because there was no room in any of the local inns. His birth was so special that a star in the sky led the way to Him. Wise men traveled from the east bringing the Jesus child priceless gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Shepherd boys came to witness first hand what had been told to them by an angel and returned to their lands rejoicing, praising God, and sharing the good news with everyone along their path. Herod the King was curious about this new King of the Jews and sought to destroy Him.

Why all the fuss over a little baby boy? He wasn’t just any baby boy. The angel declared to Mary and Joseph that He would be called the Son of God. His name would be Jesus, for “He shall save His people from their sins,” and “of His kingdom there will be no end.” All these were pretty powerful statements concerning a baby born in a manger.

But this was the way God intended it. You see, a long time ago God our Heavenly Father and creator of the universe wanted a family—offspring that was created in His image with whom He could fellowship. But when Adam and Eve disobeyed and betrayed God in the Garden of Eden, the tight-knit fellowship they had with God was broken. Their sin put a wedge in the relationship that would have to be restored if God were to once again enjoy the level of intimacy He had with His children.

More than anything, God wanted to redeem His children. Yet under the law God had established, forgiveness of sin required a pure and holy sacrifice. So God created the perfect plan. He would offer up His only begotten Son—fully God, yet fully man.

Jesus was not only born miraculously, but He lived a miraculous life. He walked this earth fulfilling to-the-letter, over 300 prophecies. He lived a sin-free life in constant communion with our Heavenly Father. He went about His life doing good—bringing healing and restoration to all those who were broken-hearted and “poor” or lacking—in spirit, in health, and in wealth. He didn’t live for Himself but lived a life dedicated to His God-given purpose. “For this purpose was the Son of God manifested; that He might destroy the works of the evil one.” And that’s what Jesus did. (I John 3:8)

When the innocent man Jesus was crucified on the cross even the earth shook in response. The sky darkened and the rocks rent. Jesus descended to hell but couldn’t stay because He was blameless—thus defeating, death, Satan and the grave. Three days later Jesus ascended to Heaven to once again be with His Heavenly Father. “Mission accomplished!” Jesus was the pure and holy sacrifice needed to restore God’s children to Himself. Now God can again enjoy the intimacy He once knew with His children if we just believe.

You see, salvation like everything else in this life is really not “about us” it’s about God. God created us and loves us so dearly that He arranged to pay the price so that we could be redeemed. Because of Jesus we have life that is abundant, joy that is unspeakable and peace that passes all understanding. We have assurance of our salvation, life worth living and power to overcome evil. We have the power to live as Jesus lived—compassionately and sacrificially. Mark 6:34 tells us that when Jesus saw the multitude, He was “moved with compassion toward them because they were as sheep not having a shepherd: and He began to teach them many things.” Jesus lived His life to help others find their purpose and their way back to God. We are to do the same.

So why should we be excited and eager to share the good news of Christ’s birth? Because truly his birth, life, death and resurrection is one incredible Christmas story that truly needs to be told. Never on the face of the earth was there a man who was born of a virgin, lived a life of miracles, crucified to death, resurrected and still alive today. In no other religion is there a “savior,” “prophet,” or “religious leader” whose remains are not in a grave or tomb somewhere.

So when someone asks you, or if you choose to volunteer “why you celebrate Christmas,” perhaps you can quote John 3:16 with renewed meaning and depth. For it most certainly is true—“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

May these words have renewed meaning for you and life-transforming power to those who hear and believe for the first time.

Merry Christmas!

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

Untidy House? You May be the Victim of Magnet Syndrome

by Anita S. Lane

Without warning, a strange phenomenon is occurring in your home. Your personal items are turning up in the most bizarre places. You discover your keys in the clothes hamper. Your mobile phone finds its way into the trash can. Your baby’s bottles are vanishing. The video tapes you tucked neatly under the entertainment center are disappearing and magically reappearing in odd places all across the first floor of your home. If these things are happening to you, you may be the victim of magnet syndrome.

The American Heritage dictionary defines “syndrome” as “a complex of symptoms indicating the existence of an undesirable condition or quality.” If you’ve experienced any of the symptoms I’ve described above there is a great possibility that you may also have the undesirable condition of an untidy home. Blame it on the “Magnet.”

I currently have an 11 month-old magnet named Daniel. Yet I guess it’s unfair to single him out because each child of mine was a magnet between the stage of crawling and age two.

If I may refresh your memory, an ordinary magnet is an “object that is surrounded by a magnetic field and that has the property, either natural or induced, of attracting iron or steel.” Well, my child—and perhaps yours too—is actually a super magnet whose magnetic field attracts not only iron and steel, but plastic, cloth, aluminum, and just about anything his little hands can carry. Did I mention I found an ink pen in the VCR?

Now I am not a clean freak. However, I believe in being neat. And my mother raised me to live out the expression “everything has its place.” So since keeping my house squeaky clean isn’t a very attainable goal for me right now, it is sometimes frustrating that I can’t even keep things as neat as I’d like.

If you don’t have children you may not understand the complexity of the magnet syndrome. It requires constant picking up, putting away, reorganizing, and the ultimate—search and rescue mission. “Okay, everybody, let’s find the baby’s pacifier!” Magnet syndrome requires as much energy by the adults in the home as it does the Magnet perpetrator. The only difference is the Magnet doesn’t need energy for much else. I have to perform magnet patrol as well as cook, clean, wash, feed, bathe, clothe, change diapers, etc. Plan on stopping over for an unexpected visit? Please give me 20 minutes notice!

So what’s the solution? If you are certain that you are a victim of magnet syndrome, try this five-step program: 1) Repeat after me, “It’s not my fault.” It took me a while to admit that my short-comings as a person weren’t to blame for infant shoes in the diaper caddy; 2) Expect to perform—and build in time for—magnet patrol as part of your daily duties. Unless you’re able to put your entire home on lock-down and have no loose parts, your little Magnet will transfer items from one place to another in your home—the problem is you never know where the items may end up. So create “clean up breaks” every couple of hours or so to avoid the dreaded mass clean up before bed time; 3) Get the entire family involved in magnet patrol. I’ve trained my five and three year-olds to stay on the look out for misplaced items and put them back in their place. They know they are responsible for helping clean up their baby brother’s mess; 4) Make sure none of the loose items in your home are particularly harmful—or at least toxic. Granted, just about anything can be harmful if used the wrong way, but make sure the toxins are locked away or better yet, eliminated from your home all together; and 5) Learn to enjoy your little magnet. My Magnet just loves being able to grasp objects, study them and walk them to another, more desirable location. It’s one of the signs that he’s growing up and it makes him proud. He’ll snatch up your empty mug and smile all the way to the toy box. So, relax. Take it easy and get that camera ready. You’re bound to capture a “Kodak moment.”

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

No Time for Cookies

by Anita S. Lane

We used to make. Now we just bake.

I recently saw a commercial with the image of a loving mother and child cuddled around the oven placing pre-made, pre-cut holiday cookies on a baking sheet. The voiceover makes the statement, “it's not about baking cookies, it's about creating holiday memories.”

That’s true. Holiday cookies are a special part of the holiday season. But whatever happened to flour, sugar, eggs and mixing bowls? I guess the end result is the same, but for some reason I was particularly struck by imagery in this commercial. I don’t know why. After all, I use pre-made cookie dough all the time.

Yet for some reason I felt slightly convicted while watching this commercial. Sure, the experience for mom and child was probably warm & fuzzy and it was quality time—all five minutes of it. However, I began to think of all the lessons my children miss out on when I don’t take the time to make—not just bake, cookies.

Making cookies from scratch is an opportunity to practice valuable life skills with a child—assembling ingredients, reading, counting, measuring, mixing, as well as patience—because it takes longer than the five minutes it takes to place pre-cut cookies on a baking sheet.

So why don’t we take the time to bake cookies from scratch? I’m concerned that not only are most of us too busy, but we no longer see the value in investing that sort of quality time with our children. After helping with homework, there’s not much “quality time” to go around, right?

Maybe. But this holiday season let’s give it a try. Dust off the mixer, pull out the aprons, and take a little extra time to make some special holiday cookies—or even a cake! It may not become an every week affair, but you just might rekindle the joy that comes from baking from scratch—the kind of joy we experienced while baking with our moms and grandmas. Remember licking the bowl? You’ll enjoy a little extra quality time and create lasting memories for your children as well—the kind of memories you only get when you take the time to make, and not just bake.

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

Our Children Need Us to Highlight Real Priorities

by Anita S. Lane

While on a recent visit to the hair salon, a mother requested to have the heat turned down on her son’s hair dryer. “It’s hot, but I also think it’s the fumes. He has very bad allergies,” she said. I glanced over at the boy sitting uneasily on a stack of yellow pages under the adult sized hair dryer. “Fumes?” I thought to myself. What could they possibly be doing to this child’s hair? And how old is he?

Well as it turned out, the boy was nine years old and he was having his hair professionally cut and highlighted. Not to mention he was at the same salon I struggle to get to in regular intervals.

Maybe it’s a sign of the times or just a sign of my age—but I recall being in high school before requesting highlights—and even then, they came in a box. But this was a boy. A very young boy, demanding to look like those spike-haired, highlighted boy band members—perhaps to impress his fourth grade female friends. Wait, do boys even like girls at that age?

Nevertheless, I asked the mom whose idea it was and she said, “his.” She must have seen the dumbfounded expression on my face. She then said, “I look at it this way. It’s better that he care than not care at all.” It took me a moment but I think I got it. She meant it is better that he care about his hair and appearance than not care at all as is the case with some boys.

Excuse me for being old fashioned, but since when is it important for a nine year old boy to care that much for his hair and appearance? Especially to the extent that it requires his mother to voluntarily agitate his “bad” allergies as well as spend the family’s hard-earned dollars at a salon. And unless my hair stylist offers “kiddie rates” this boy’s mom kicked out about 100 bucks for his ‘do.’

Only time will tell what the future has for me, but it is my prayer that between school work, sports and family obligations that my three boys won’t have time for color treatments. And I really hope it just won’t be a priority for them.

However, I realize that we become what we see—just like we are what we eat. And it’s apparent the young boy at the salon has seen more than his share of images in pop culture that portray “cool” boys as those who color their hair.

I’m not opposed to hair coloring. I like my own hair highlighted. Yet somehow I can’t help but think we as parents must focus our time and energy on building the self esteem of our youngsters and affirming that their hair is perfect the way it is—in addition to trying to limit their over-exposure to popular media images.

This nine year-old boy has not even reached his pre-teen and teen years when puberty and self expression are in full bloom. What happens when he asks for colored contacts, regular visits to the tanning salon or even a little cosmetic surgery?

It’s important that we teach our children the value of accepting themselves for who God made them. They must know that God made them, loves them, and they are “just right” just the way they are. At some point, our children must learn to care more about God and their parents’ opinions of them than even their peers. And that value will only come when we as parents exert the time, energy and effort required to highlight life’s real priorities—and not just their hair.

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

The Universal Perils of Pregnancy

by Anita S. Lane

If you’ve ever given birth to a child, you’ll probably identify with what I’m going to say. However you may be one of those pregnant ladies who loved every aspect of pregnancy and floated through with a glow on your face and pep in your wobbling step. But it was never like that for me. After discovering I was pregnant the very first time with our first child, the elation eventually wore off—yielding to the term I’ve dubbed the “perils of pregnancy.”

It’s probably sacrilegious to refer to anything related to the miracle of pregnancy and childbirth as “perilous,” but that’s just how I honestly feel sometimes.

By the time my eighth month rolls around, I find myself experiencing anew the challenges I’d experienced in each of my other pregnancies and saying—as though I’ve totally forgotten—“what’s going on with me?” Fortunately I have a very understanding husband. Now that I’m pregnant with our fourth child he reminds me of what I can expect. “Honey, you went through this the last time too. Just take it easy. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he says.

Maybe the first trip to the OBGYN should include a note from the physician that says, “Warning! Pregnancy may include the following side effects/risks, including but not limited to: headaches, nausea, exhaustion, changes in taste buds, leg cramps, unusual cravings, round ligament pain, clumsiness, lower backaches, an aversion to stairs and the inability to tie one’s shoe.”

These things may seem minor. However, as the months progress I find myself increasingly frustrated with the little things are no longer little anymore. Staying awake and alert all day is one. Attempting to accomplish my daily to-do list is almost futile. I find myself thinking about all the things I want to do more than actually doing them.

And how about a simple trip to the grocery store? Well, it’s not so simple anymore when I have to stop and spend 15 minutes in the bathroom with my five, three and 11 month-old as well as walk the long isles of the new vast grocery “malls” Americans are so enamored with. By the time I finish shopping I’m ready to soak my feet and head for bed. My legs are tired, my back is hurting and my uterus feels like it is going to just fall from under me. But it’s not over yet, I still have to get all those groceries in and out of the car and into the house and put away while the baby waddles behind me crying for me to pick him up. Make that my last trip to the store for a full set of groceries until after the new baby! “You just give me the list. I’ll go,” my husband said in response to my agony.

While I pity myself over the little things I find a little comfort in the fact that it’s not just the obscure stay-at-home-mom dealing with these challenges. I recently saw Oscar award-winning actress, Catherine Zeta Jones in an interview attesting to the same challenges. “I couldn’t even tie my own shoe,” she says. “Honey, can you roll me over?” She says to husband-actor Michael Douglas. “And all I could see were these big jugs,” she goes on to say. Not to mention she gained 50 pounds. But she looks great. My 50 are still with me.

Nevertheless, I realize that what I experience everyday during these last waning moments of pregnancy is universal to women everywhere. While I may not enjoy every aspect of the journey I find comfort in that the journey will come to completion with a beautiful precious bundle whom I will love and cherish forever. And soon I will have once again forgotten all about the little inconveniences I experienced as a pregnant woman and look with joy upon my God-given precious gift.

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

A Lesson in Southern Hospitality!

by Anita S. Lane

I know the South has its history. But on a recent trip to my husband’s family homestead in a small town in southern Georgia, I saw none of the dark side I’ve read and heard about in times past. I was struck by the common courtesy and pleasantries extended by most everyone we encountered.

Our first stop inside the Peach Tree state was at the Waffle House—my favorite place to stop for breakfast. It was crowded and our very sweet waitress had difficulty with our order. After we got the order straight, the woman in the booth in front of us began a bit of friendly conversation. “I think these two ladies are new…” She said referring to the two waitresses in a sweet southern accent. “What we usually do is order the adult breakfast and split it in half for the kids. It’s cheaper that way.”
“Thanks,” we said—wishing she had butted in a few minutes sooner. We could have saved $3.00. She then began to tell us how they had to get home to finish putting up their Christmas decorations. “Y’all have good evening,” she said as she left the restaurant.

My husband decided to suggest to our waitress that she tell future customers it may be more cost-effective for them to order the adult meal for the children share. To my surprise, she welcomed this piece of advice. “Oh, I sure will! That makes a lot of sense. Thank you!” I couldn’t help but think, “I don’t know how well received that piece of advice would have been where we’re from.” But once again, that was that sweet southern hospitality showing through.

Thanksgiving morning our family made a run to the store—15 miles outside of town— to pick up a few things for the next phase of our road trip. While in the grocery isle, a friendly gentleman stops to give a compliment. “What a handsome family you have there.”
“Thank you,” my husband replied. A minute later he returns with his sister and his preteen daughter.
“I just had to let her see this family and this cute little baby…You don’t sound like you’re from ‘round here,” the man said.
“No. We’re from Detroit. We’re here visiting our grandparents.”
“Oh, who are they?” Well, as fate would have it, my husband was actually a distant relative of this gentleman—and his 17 other siblings.

Now I was shopping down another isle while this conversation transpired and when I turned into the isle a woman I’d never seen before was headed toward me with a big friendly smile and outstretched arms. “We’re kinfolk!” She exclaimed as she extended her arms and kissed my cheek. Before I could compose myself I was greeted with another big hug by her preteen niece. We had our own little reunion next to the bottled water.

We left the store to return to our Great Aunt’s home for a Thanksgiving meal of grand proportions—three turkeys, deer, fish and all the traditional trimmings—served in a grand foyer set with fine china and glassware for forty people. Now that’s hospitable! After dinner, Cousin Johnson invited us over so that the children could feed the chickens and watch him make syrup from sugar cane.

Once back on the road I said to my husband, “boy, folks sure are friendly down here—few handshakes—lots of hugs and kisses. And everyone says, “hello.” While it may have caught me a little off-guard, it was pleasant. Folks seem a lot more trusting.

I consider myself a very friendly individual. However, I realize that my “friendliness” is probably tempered by my northern upbringing. I began to wonder how different our nation would be if more people were warm, courteous and reached out to one another more. I think it would be a much better place. I see now that I may be pretty friendly for a northerner, but I’ve got a ways to go to compete with genuine southern hospitality.

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

The Prenatal Industry Needs to Get a Clue!

by Anita S. Lane

Aah…Ladies, remember daydreaming about your first child? Remember wondering what it would be like to have a precious little baby blossoming in your womb—decorating the nursery and anticipating the miracle of childbirth? Remember your first prenatal visit? If it was anything like mine, you walked out with a bag full of flyers, pamphlets, magazines, coupons, prenatal vitamin samples and helpful articles to help you prepare for your big day.

In my bag was a blue folder with information from Obstetrician-Gynecologists and other specialists that included advice like, “take your vitamins…get plenty of rest…take frequent naps…pamper yourself” and “put your feet up to avoid swelling later in pregnancy.” Admonishments for after childbirth included things like, “nap while the baby naps,” and “the dishes can wait…”

Nine months after the birth of my first child I was back at the OBGYN for my first prenatal visit…for my second child. I walked out with a bag full of flyers, pamphlets, magazines, coupons, prenatal vitamin samples and a blue folder with helpful articles to help me prepare for my big day. Almost two years later I again went to the OBGYN for my first prenatal visit…for my third child. Ironically, I walked out with a bag full of –you know what I’m about to say—as well as a blue folder with the same “helpful” articles to help me prepare for my big day.

Okay, a refresher course in preparing for a newborn is always in order. But five months after the birth of my third child I was back at the OBGYN for my first prenatal visit…for my fourth child. Almost to my dismay, I walked out with a bag full of flyers, pamphlets, magazines, coupons, prenatal vitamin samples, and once again… a blue folder with supposedly “helpful” articles to help me prepare for my big day.

As I sifted through those familiar articles that admonished me to “get plenty of rest…take frequent naps…pamper yourself…put your feet up…nap while the baby naps,” and “the dishes can wait…” This time I thought to myself. “ARE YOU CRAZY? Is this some kind of cruel joke?” When am I supposed to get plenty of rest with two toddlers and an infant who doesn’t yet sleep through the night? How am I supposed to pamper myself without extensive planning and an affordable—or better yet—free babysitter? How am I supposed to put my feet up while washing dishes, sweeping, cooking and chasing after a 10 month-old who just learned to walk? How can I nap with my new baby when the other three children need to be fed, and driven to ballet, piano and soccer? And just how long can the dishes wait…a week? Somebody give these folks a reality check.

So now that I’m preparing for baby number four I’m now questioning all of the warm and fuzzy advice given for pregnancy number one. Were all of the specialists’ recommendations really necessary for a happy, healthy mom and baby? From my sake I sure hope not! Their advice may be ideal, but it’s not realistic.

I know the well-meaning physicians, nurses and other specialists in the prenatal field really want to help new moms prepare for and adjust to their new lives. But do moms like me a favor and insert a pamphlet with practical advice for mothers having baby number two and beyond—a pamphlet that recognizes and understands that once you have more than one child you typically no longer have the luxury of time and focus you had with your first child. Beyond baby number one the world is a very different place and the prenatal industry needs to get a clue!

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

Chocolate, Cigarettes and Christmas Music—Americans Find Ways to Cope with Stress

by Anita S. Lane

I woke up this morning to two interesting news reports on how Americans are currently dealing with stress. A University of Michigan report found that Americans are increasingly turning to comfort foods such as chocolate and candy bars, as well as cigarettes to “help them deal with stress.”

In a separate news paper article, I learned that radio stations are moving to a Christmas music format sooner this year in order to help ease the stress and bring “happy” feelings to listeners. One radio station in Detroit has been playing around-the-clock Christmas music since November 5th this year—and the feedback is very merry. The VP of programming at the station said, “the positive feedback outweighs the negative 10 to one…As crazy as things have gotten, they’re ready for warm, happy feeling as soon as they can get them.”

I can identify with both reports. My husband ran into a friend of ours a week ago whom we hadn’t seen in a while. To my husband’s surprise, he was smoking a cigarette. “I thought you quit four years ago,” my husband said. “Stress, man…stress,” was this friend’s reply.

At the same time, longing for those extra-warm and fuzzy, cheery feelings the Christmas season brings, my five year-old daughter has been playing around-the-clock Christmas music in her room since the day her 10 month-old brother pulled a Christmas CD off the shelf the first week in November. “Christmas is almost here, Mommy. Ooh…I can’t wait!”

The reality is that stress is a fact of life with which every person must cope. And there’s nothing wrong with a crutch. We use crutches everyday to help heal from a strained muscle or broken bone. So what’s wrong with using a “crutch” while we heal from emotional pain? We just need to make sure our crutch is healthy and beneficial for us overall.

This year, over 100 radio stations across the nation will go to an all-Christmas format by early December. The radio industry has learned first-hand that playing Christmas music helps individuals feel happy and more peace and good will toward men. That’s great. Now if only we in the Christian community can get people to accept the Christ in Christmas, people can rely less on chocolate and cigarettes and experience the inner joy and peace that Christ offers all year long.

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

A Hard-learned Lesson: The Democratic Party Cannot Afford to Undervalue Traditional American Values

by Anita S. Lane

On Tuesday November 2, 2004, nearly 120 million men and women, young and old, stood in line for hours to cast their vote. The President of the United States received the largest number of popular votes in the history of this nation. Republicans retained the House and gained four seats in the Senate. Senate Minority Leader Tom Daschle lost his reelection bid to Republican challenger John Thune—the first Minority Leader in history to ever lose reelection. Eleven states voted to amend their constitutions to define marriage as being only between a man and woman. All eleven measures passed with a clear majority.

Four years later many in the nation are still reeling from the debacle of the 2000 Presidential election. Many of these individuals feel President Bush’s win was illegitimate. Yet this time around President Bush wins a clear majority—not large, but decisive. What happened? Why did the nation come out and support whom many believe was a President crowned illegitimately?

You may not want to accept it, nor may you like it but it’s called values. Traditional ones, I might add. In a surprise to most of the major media, exit polls showed that the number one issue for voters was “moral values” (21%) followed by “the economy” (20%) and “terrorism” (18%). But the popular media didn’t see that coming. It appears not many of the political pundits placed much value on the nation’s core values—no one but those in the Bush camp. (Source: MSNBC News).

Many criticize the Bush campaign for stirring up division and playing to the “fears” of conservatives and evangelicals who are opposed to partial birth abortion and gay marriage. But is it merely these individual’s fears that drove them to the polls or could it be their faith? Is it possible these individuals actually read and believe the Bible when it says “male and female He created them,” and “thou shall not kill?” even if it is a baby in the womb? Is it possible these individuals feel that God holds them accountable for their actions—even for the way they vote? If so, then it’s possible that it is their faith that led them to the polls, not fear.

Unfortunately for America, it appears as though the Democratic Party as been taken hostage by high profile, out-of-the mainstream groups that don’t hold nor really respect traditional American values. And as an individual who likes having quality choices at the voting booth--not just the lesser of two evils--this is disheartening.

I heard one life-long, politically involved Democrat say that there was a time when Americans held the same core values and elections were decided upon a candidate’s vision for the economy and other social, domestic and foreign issues. Not anymore.

Maybe next election—if they want to win, Democrats will be smart not to undervalue traditional American values.

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

Detroit, We Are African Town!

by Anita S. Lane

This article ran as a Detroit News Commentary on November 3, 2004. Go to the following link to see the Detroit News Version. http://www.detnews.com/2004/editorial/0411/03/a23-324085.htm

Do you recall a time when immigrants landed in Detroit and forced us (African Americans) to hand over our businesses? Do you recall a time when immigrants received special treatment and access to business opportunities in the city from Detroit Mayor Coleman A. Young? Do you recall this ever happening? No, because it didn’t.

What did happen however, is that in the wake of the Jim Crow and civil rights era, opportunities were created for African Americans and we took them—such as the opportunity to move outside of Detroit once segregation was declared illegal and the opportunity to shop and eat at establishments owned by whites. As a result, we eroded our tightly knit communities and weakened African American owned business districts. We encouraged our children to attend college over assuming the family business or starting their own. We wanted so badly to touch, taste and experience what we had for so long been forbidden, that we neglected and devalued what we had. We were free to go elsewhere. And so we did.

Now it’s almost 40 years later and we realize what we left behind. We left behind a sense of collective pride, the pride of ownership, the beauty of community and shared culture, and the blessing of extended family within close proximity. Many of us who could “get out,” got out and left our communities without the socioeconomic diversity and the variety of role models that helped our communities to thrive.

So now we want to establish an African Town and a loan fund to correct our mistakes. Is this the right approach? Access to loans is just one piece of the puzzle. Perhaps we should require that successful applicants:

• work 12-14 hours a day including weekends if necessary;
• provide excellent service with a smile;
• offer goods and services at competitive prices;
• forgo a vacation for the first 2-3 years;
• work for modest pay;
• forgo purchasing or leasing expensive vehicles;
• be willing to share their home with up to 5-6 extended family members;
• reinvest 30% of their profit directly into the business;
• Set aside at least 10% of income in a “rainy day” fund;
• and pool financial resources with the other family members in business in order to help one another purchase buildings and establish businesses

Okay, so I would never actually recommend legislating such criteria. The point is, are we willing to go to such lengths to succeed in business?

Over the years I’ve conversed with many successful foreign-born business owners. Ironically, their stories are almost always the same. They come to America because it is the land of opportunity and freedom—the freedom to succeed or fail based on their own merit. And as for their personal work ethic— they don’t take “no” for an answer and they won’t settle for excuses. They persevere in spite of language and cultural barriers. They don’t expect anyone to give them anything and they are not averse to hard work. They understand the meaning of delayed gratification. This is how they manage to come to the United States with so little and fare so well in such a relatively short period of time.

Don’t get me wrong. Successful African American business owners employ these same principles. And they deserve our support. My Aunt and Uncle own a thriving business in Detroit and operate in just the fashion I described. And that needs to be the standard we set if we are to succeed in business as a community.

Want an African Town? Fine. I won’t argue. Create a place to showcase African American heritage, culture and business. But if we as Black consumers don’t support our own now, we’ll just end up with an “African Town” tourist attraction supported by tourists and owned and operated by our same foreign-born friends who own the beauty supply, gas station and party store in our neighborhoods now.

Let’s be honest. With an African American population of over 80%, Detroit, we are African Town. We just need to act like it.

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

Where is the American Dream?

by Anita S. Lane

In October 2004, the Detroit Free Press conducted a special report entitled “Anger in America.” One of the reasons cited for this anger is friction resulting from the rapid pace of movement and change in our country. Perhaps.

But why do I think Americans are angry?

Americans are angry because Americans are stressed. Americans are driven by their desire to achieve the "American Dream." The problem is they keep falling short. Most view the American Dream in terms of wealth and riches. Yet it is very difficult to achieve the amount of wealth and riches most starry-eyed young people dream about. The reality is that there are very few Americans who are actually that wealthy anyway. But popular media over-saturates our minds with images of riches and "having it all" which can result in inner turmoil for those of us that don't see through the smoke screen.

For those of us who do see more clearly, there is something to be said about our current economic times. If you are not a savvy business owner and you're depending on employers to make your living, it is a precarious time in America. The constant struggle of working and not being able to "get ahead" is a very deep source of stress for most Americans that impacts every area of their lives—their self esteem, interpersonal relationships, relationships with the children, etc.

Americans are angry because they are discontent with themselves. They wish they could be smarter, stronger, better educated, more attractive--you name it. The real problem is we're allowing media and other outside sources define the American Dream for us.

So what do I propose is the American Dream? The American Dream is the ability to freely practice and express one's religious beliefs. The American Dream is the ability to utilize one's God-given gifts and talents, pursue one's passion, work hard, and realize the fruit of one's labor. The American Dream is the ability to pass along one's values to their children and help their children pursue goals and aspirations without governmental interference. The American Dream is to be able to come home at night, eat dinner with the ones you love and go to bed in peace, knowing your home will not be obtrusively uprooted from you.

If more of us thought of the American Dream in more fundamental terms we would realize that the American Dream is not afar off. We are living it. Yet we're too brainwashed to realize it and we cause ourselves undue stress as a result. Our disappointment with where we are in life and what we "don't have" leads to bitterness and anger.

Wake up America! Stop focusing on what you don't have and value what you do have. All the elements of the American Dream are right inside of you.

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

I’m Not Losing It

by Anita S. Lane

It was a span of four days. Things seemed to be falling apart in little ways.

Day one: I went to make a purchase with my bank card and could not find my license. “Great. That sure complicates things,” I thought to myself.

Day two: I’m ordering carry out and cannot find enough cash to pay for the meal. “I thought I had more cash…” I mumbled in embarrassment as I fumbled through my purple fanny pack (“hey, it fits in the baby bag”). Not to mention someone I knew was standing nearby. Fortunately I found just enough to cover the bill. “Whew!”

Day three: I retrace my steps to various vendors in search of my license. No luck.

Day four: I go to make a withdrawal from the ATM machine only to discover I do not have my ATM card. I cannot find it. By this time I’m feeling irresponsible. “I’m not losing it,” I tell myself as I try to remain calm and pleasant in the presence of my children. I search the house. I revisit the pizza parlor where a couple of days prior I purchased pizza.

I call and cancel my debit card and proceed to complete the errands I originally set out to accomplish. My four year-old daughter asked when we left the house if she could bring her little black purse. “Okay,” I said even though I saw it as an unnecessary piece luggage for which I would ultimately be responsible.

I get to the office supply store with my two young children and infant in tow, only to discover that the main item I came to purchase is out of stock. “It could be worse, right?” Then it’s time for the family rest room break. While in the restroom my daughter is flashing dollar bills from her purse. Out of the corner of my eye it appears that one of the bills is larger than a dollar bill. I go over to her only to discover she’s flashing a twenty dollar bill…and a five…and a one dollar bill. At this point I want to know just how much loot she’s actually carrying in that little black bag of hers. I open the purse and to my amazement I find my license and my debit card (in addition to the twenty-six dollars in cash). I had to catch my breath. I was outraged.

“Didn’t you know Mommy was looking for these things? Didn’t you hear me say I couldn’t find my license and my bank card? Didn’t you know it was wrong to take something out of mommy’s fanny pack?”

I immediately called my husband and he calmed me down. “Honey, she didn’t realize what she had taken. She was only trying to be like you by putting those items into her purse.” Apparently she had put those items in her purse a few days ago and forgot. Nevertheless, she was disciplined and her purse-carrying privileges suspended.

Okay, so her actions were unintentional, but they still caused me a lot of unnecessary pain and suffering—can I sue for damages? As a woman who usually “keeps it together,” this particular weekend got to me. The public humiliation of not having enough cash for carryout, losing my license, retracing my tracks to vendors, reporting my debit card lost/stolen, and wondering all the while “what is happening to me?” had worked my patience. But I had to forgive and move on. Whether intentional or unintentional, when someone else’s actions make life difficult for us it is still our responsibility to forgive and move on. “Look at the bright side,” I told myself. At least in this instance I wasn’t actually “losing it.”

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

Is Your Minivan a Status Symbol?

by Anita S. Lane

I traded in my Mercedes for a minivan. A vehicle I declared I’d never drive. “There goes any symbol of status for the next 25 years,” I thought to myself. Maybe. Maybe not. But let me start this story from the beginning.

I was approaching age 30. I had purchased my first new car right out of graduate school and had paid it off. I was ready for my first luxury sedan. I fell in love with the brand new Lexus RX 300. An SUV and the cutest thing on four wheels! “Yup, that was it!” One problem: my tall, broad husband didn’t fit comfortably in it. “Not enough head and elbow room,” he said. I was disappointed but I proceeded to find a comparable vehicle and came across the Mercedes SUV.

I never imagined driving a Mercedes at that stage of my life but it was a well-made, well handling vehicle. The price was right and the note was affordable. It wasn’t nearly as cute as the Lexus but it fit the goal of “luxury vehicle” and it fit my husband and baby girl. I was an independent contractor and needed the write-off so we leased it for three years.

But in three years, life happened: I went from being the mother of one to a mother of three; I went from being gainfully employed to unemployed (remember the recession after 911?); I went from being a working mom to a full-time stay-at-home mom. And remember that “affordable note?” Needless to say it was no longer affordable.

I remember the night I traded in my new Mercedes for a gently used Dodge Grand Caravan. By the grace and wisdom of God we were able to pay cash for it. I remember thinking, “there goes any symbol of status for the next 25 years.” Then I thought again. My minivan is a symbol of status. It’s a symbol that says I’m at the point in my life where my children come first. It is a symbol that I’m willing to put the comfort and convenience of my children before my own—they love the room, it’s easy to step into, and it’s nice to have room for a potty. My minivan is a status symbol. It’s a symbol that I have found new love—children, motherhood and all that comes along with it. That’s my status in life and my minivan is the symbol.

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane

Desperate Housewives Need God

by Anita S. Lane

I guess a single woman having sex in the city is no longer enough for the American viewing audience. The premiere of the highly advertised “Desperate Housewives,” on ABC makes it clear that it is time to “take it up a notch.”

Apparently, it is not enough to show young single women (and men) denigrate themselves (as is done on virtually all prime time shows as well as in the myriad of reality shows). It is now necessary to desecrate the role and sanctity of a wife and mother—an integral one-half of the pillar upon which family and society is built. When will it stop?

Unfortunately, I don’t think this slow, devaluation of everything that is good will stop as long as the majority of Americans are eager to turn on the tub and watch such trash. Trash? Is this too strong a term given the show is portraying reality for many American families?

Reality is not always good. The reality is that many Americans are broke, sick, hurting, confused and angry. You might even say—desperate. However, the Word of God tells us not to focus on these things, no matter how real they may be. We’re admonished to focus on whatever is noble, right, pure, lovely, and admirable. Focus on the goal. You’ve heard the saying, “your life will go in the direction of your most dominant thought.”

As intriguing and entertaining as “Desperate Housewives” may be—especially if you love a good soap opera, it is actually poison to our hearts and minds and God’s Word tells us to guard our hearts and minds with all diligence because from the heart flows the issues of life.

Have you ever felt desperate? Of course. But what you do when you feel desperate is the bigger, better question. Don’t allow secular television to plant devilish ideas in your mind, let alone attempt to offer suggestions as to how to handle life’s challenges.

I happen to be a housewife. One who is striving to be all that God has destined for me to be. Yet as pure as my intentions are, I don’t need any outside suggestions for thinking and acting “out of character.” And that’s what shows like this provide—An opportunity to identify with one of the characters, justify their bad behavior, covet some material thing they have, and reflect upon your own life in light of theirs (which is albeit, fictitious).

These are all things we do unconsciously when we are engrossed in a show. I don’t need the drama of four fictitious women cluttering space in the back of my mind. But I can always use plenty help strengthening what is good and pure in my life as a woman, wife and mother. But they don’t offer that on prime time. So, the only way this show will ever get ratings from my home is if they adjust the plot and title it “Housewives Desperate for More of God.”

Copyright ©2004 by Anita S. Lane