When They Fall

As a child, we imagine our lives as adults. We see ourselves as getting married and having children. In that order. We played make-believe with dolls pretending to be mommies and daddies. Our parents read stories to us that mostly ended with…”And they all lived happily ever after!” We fell asleep comforted with the knowledge that our lives would emulate those wholesome tales. We made mud pies, ran through the water sprinklers and played in the grass, making us itch until bathtime. Those times were good and simple.

Putting aside childish things we raced to adulthood which of course would be our happily ever after. Right? Not so fast. We married and had children. The miracle of childbirth greatly affirmed for me for sure that there is a God and He sure loved me! After all, look at this beautiful child. My life forever changed four times! 

We taught these lambs everything. How to walk, talk, eat and how to love. How to behave, cover their mouths when they coughed…”Don’t hit each other!” we said often enough. Then on the first day of school, some kid hits them and another coughs all over them which sends them home with a brand new communicable disease. Little did we realize…this was the beginning of a war. Without warning, we became unsuspecting soldiers.

The world outside our door will have had more of an influence on our children than we ever did. They made friends that we didn’t select. They made mistakes and they sinned. That was par for the course in an effort to grow up. We parents understood that. We were young too once up a time. Of course, we kept taking them to church and explaining our Faith and love for Jesus in hopes that they’ll remember what is good and bad, what is right and wrong. We told them to avoid the near occasion of sin and to make good associations with friends. Did it take? Sometimes I think so or know so. Sometimes I wonder if they ever really heard a single word that I  said. And it starts to feel like a crapshoot.

When the world gets a hold of our children it is almost impossible to get them back. We send them off to school naively trusting that they’ll be taught only good things. I know that the teachers try very hard. But their burden is that they may have 30 youngsters at a time, all being raised differently and sometimes just plain badly. I’ve seen some of their classmates who must have been raised like free-range chickens with no discipline at all. We sent them off like lambs to be alongside the wolves. We did what we thought we were supposed to do. Only now we could no longer filter what got into their minds. Not only from the schools but from billboards, TV, movies,computers and even books. There are many agendas out there seeking to influence malleable minds in their formative years. There are people with agendas, groups with agendas and institutions with agendas all with varying degrees of scrupulosity. Not all intentions are kind, to say the least. Daily bits and pieces of their innocence got chipped away by this world, little by little. It feels like a dagger every time you notice this in your child, who now is in pain. When they were younger and they got hurt a simple kiss on their owie did the trick. We are still trying to protect them from pain, even pain that is self-inflicted. That is when it’s most difficult to be a parent.

In the french play “Huis Clos” by Jean-Paul Sartre, the conclusion is drawn that “Hell is other people”. That is unquestionably true when our children are exposed or expose themselves to the immorality, disease, and chaos which is prevalent in our culture today. Much like an adorable kitten becomes the large cat that won’t stay off your countertop, our tiny angels grew into rebellious instruments of torture for their parents. Oh, they are still beautiful, and they are still kind and generous. But they have definitely lost their baby smell. For us now they are adults. By their second year of college, they decided that their parents, knew absolutely nothing about life or this world that they cleverly navigate. The fact that they are self-sufficient adults now happened by a sheer accident of nature. Nothing to do with us. Although they began rolling their eyes at us when they were preteens, they do so less now because they have become so socially skilled that they don’t activate their faces with every emotion. They do salute the fact that we fed and clothed them all of those years. 

Our terrific strangers, in the spirit of their rebellion, have now decided, some but not all, that Mom and Dad’s faith and religion were just a means of making them behave as children. They don’t need God, Church or marriage. They think that their way of doing this life is superior to that of their feeble parents.  As is true in all rebellion, unsurprisingly to we the feeble ones, at some point, the shit hits the proverbial fan. Uh oh! Where’s Mom and Dad? Well, they’re at church praying for these sorry asses. We love them, that’s why we keep them in prayer. Because we already know that these new ways of doing things don’t end well. God has a plan for families that has worked for well over two thousand years.

We all make mistakes. Some are more catastrophic than others. We are still only human after all. While they were young and did something bad or wrong I would tell them to ‘ go and say sorry to whomever you hurt or offended and then apologize to God. God will forgive you and then you move on!’ That’s what we did. But wait a minute. Now they are all grown up! Their mistakes and sins now can have mortifying consequences. Mom and Dad can no longer make everything better even if asked. When we see our child in pain, we are in pain too. We can help, we can advise. We pray that our children will listen. It is true suffering that we go through watching our offspring in suffer. Sometimes the ramifications of our children’s misdeeds have eternal consequences. We labor when we see our very much loved children fall down in their lives. We feel helpless, while at the same time we know that our Faith will get us through. But, what about our child who has lost his or her Faith, or thrown it away? We wonder how they will cope without the grace of Jesus. We know assuredly that these pitfalls could have been avoided simply by sticking with the game plan laid out by God for them.

Thankfully for us, our lambs do not all make the same types of mistakes or even at the same time. They are sparse and rare. But when they do, they rally around one another and help as a team. I’ve seen it. It makes me extremely proud. I guess that happens by accident too! My guys help each other with so much love it is amazing to see. Mine are not a bunch of crazed heathens. They are fantastically good people. Of course, there will be more problems in the future. That’s the nature of the beast. Sin is and always will be a problem for everyone. Only with Jesus can we conquer sin.

With each awesome miracle of birth (4x) I became even more sure of God’s existence and His love. Jesus fell to the ground three times in agony while carrying the Cross. Mary watched as any mother would, wanting to make it better. Her immaculate heart must have felt so much pain. Mary was also at the foot of that Cross, watching our Jesus take on our sins, all of our sins! Mary knew the purpose of her Son’s suffering. I didn’t know the purpose of the suffering of my child or of my heart… Until last Sunday at Mass. The reading from the Bible was the exact same reading that enlightened me when I was in week 4 of my six-week stay in the hospital with double pneumonia. My children were very young then. My body was not responding to the antibiotics. Tubes were draining my lungs. Specialists were called in. I was dying and no one mentioned that small detail to me. A very good friend, who is also a nurse, told me later that I had survived the same type of pneumonia that killed puppeteer Jim Henson. She later told me that she had visited me that day to say goodbye.

I didn’t know or understand then why I was going through this awful sickness. This illness almost took me away from my husband and four children. They needed me. I prayed all day and every day in that hospital. When I wasn’t praying I was reading my Bible and books my husband brought to me about the saints and Church history(always fascinating). I was so blessed to receive Eucharist daily. Before that, I’d only received on Sundays so this was good! I was given my Last Rites (they don’t really call it that anymore) It is two sacraments. The Anointing of the Sick as well as Viaticum (Eucharist; food from Heaven for your journey to Heaven) Aka The Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ) One doesn’t have to be dying to receive these sacraments. Suffice it to say my situation was dire. God and I had a six-week-long conversation. It was quite necessary. I battled with the issue of Faith. What was Faith and did I have any? Was God going to take care of my children if something happened to me? Did I trust God? After reading this passage I knew that God’s answer was yes! Yes to everything! I finally surrendered to God completely! After reading this:

Hebrews, chapter 12r »

God our Father.*

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Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us* and persevere in running the race that lies before us

2

while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith. For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God.a

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Consider how he endured such opposition from sinners, in order that you may not grow weary and lose heart.

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In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood.

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You have also forgotten the exhortation addressed to you as sons:

“My son, do not disdain the discipline of the Lordb

or lose heart when reproved by him;

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for whom the Lord loves, he disciplines;

he scourges every son he acknowledges.”

7

Endure your trials as “discipline”; God treats you as sons. For what “son” is there whom his father does not discipline?c

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If you are without discipline, in which all have shared, you are not sons but bastards.

9

Besides this, we have had our earthly fathers to discipline us, and we respected them. Should we not [then] submit all the more to the Father of spirits and live?d

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They disciplined us for a short time as seemed right to them, but he does so for our benefit, in order that we may share his holiness.

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At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain, yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it.e

12

So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees.f

13

Make straight paths for your feet, that what is lame may not be dislocated but healed.g

God revealed to me that I was actually in training. Laying in that hospital bed with tubes connected directly to my lungs draining them of infection, I was running my race! And all the saints in Heaven were pulling for me! Such a great cloud of witnesses! My doctor told me that this was when I had a turn around in my health. God healed me.

So in hearing this last Sunday, I knew that God was telling me that once again I am in training. And my children are in training, running their races. God promised me that day in the hospital that He would take care of my children. This war has already been won! So I will not be weary! God’s got this!

Painting “The Path” by Kathy Hatch

Sex and Violence; Idolatry of the West.

Title of painting: Becoming 12″x12″
By Kat Hatch

I’m worried every time I turn on the television. ‘What now?’ I ask myself. To my horror here we go again!  Mass shootings within days of each other. The Garlic Festival in Oregon. The El Paso Walmart shooting. So far, 22 people are dead. It turns my stomach.  Death has a stench that cannot be masqued by flowery words. When it comes at the hands of another human being it is irreversibly cruel. Humanity continues to chisel away at its innocence or whatever remnant that is left of it.  Mass killings are evil, senseless, and yet organically grown out of a culture that celebrates perversion and death. The question goes from ‘Why did this happen?’ to ‘How the hell does it not happen every day?’. I next woke up to the news of Dayton, Ohio. It is happening every day.

Psychologists and researchers say that violence is hard to predict. Really? One doesn’t have to be a weatherman to notice rain clouds in the sky. Guilty of promoting violence, the media then acts shocked by the violence that occurs. Sure, they are concerned and surprised by the most recent mass shootings. As they themselves say, “If it bleeds it leads!” That means big numbers for them.  America is hemorrhaging at this point. Meanwhile, the media is busy pointing fingers and clutching pearls.

We don’t have to read some psychotic’s social media manifesto to recognize that many people are miserable within themselves and amongst themselves. Other people’s lives don’t matter, simply because the killer does not know who they are. All of humanity takes a hit when that mentality prevails.  The world is obsessed with death and violence. Its obsession has grown continually since Cain killed Abel;

8

Cain said to his brother Abel, “Let us go out in the field.”* When they were in the field, Cain attacked his brother Abel and killed him.c

9

Then the LORD asked Cain, Where is your brother Abel? He answered, “I do not know. Am I my brother’s keeper?”    Genesis Ch 4. NAB

God answered by expelling Cain out of the garden. There is an answer to today’s diatribe. We can teach each other to respect all human life as sacred. We start by ending the barbaric and beneath us practice of abortion. It is evil to think that killing another human life can somehow make our lives better. (St. Mother Teresa said it better). We are here to love, cherish and preserve human life as it is a gift from God. Therefore, we hold ourselves, our brothers and neighbors accountable for the preservation of human life. Recognizing the human as made in the image of God, requires our diligent love in caring for the most vulnerable and defenseless in our society. As such the very young and the very old deserve our respect, protection and tender loving care. Each person deserves that.


School shootings and other mass killings are both symptoms and a result of the societal devaluation of human life. When we, the grown-ups, remain silent while mothers, doctors and nurses slaughter (without pain relief) the smallest among us, it stands to reason that another human being would have no feeling of empathy while shooting multiple people who are all, frankly, at different stages of development. Except for the tools used for killing people, Planned Parenthood doctors and the other mass killers have the same occupation.



What’s really going on here is idolatry. We are addicted to sex and violence. We prop them up as though they were the new god of this century. People think of idolatry as having to do with statues. It is more authentically defined as anything or anyone that we put before God Himself. We see examples of this affliction in the public arena. We have entire parades in most major cities celebrating who someone has sex with. What used to be considered pornography is seen today on mainstream TV, movies, and even commercials and billboards. The left pushes the agenda of sexual idolatry even to our children. Our children have always been the target of the left’s agenda in their quest to forever corrupt their innocence. Thereby making our whole country less genteel, less civilized.



I maintain that the sexual revolution was a hoax! It was a lie.  This movement made people believe that intercourse was a recreational right, rather than the family building, God given expression of love between a married man and his wife. Not a popular idea today. But it remains true. So why are grown women marching in Washington D.C. dressed like vaginas, wearing hats that represent female genitalia? Are they bloodthirsty murderers who think killing babies is a good thing? Or are they just women who want the right to remain promiscuous with impunity? Are they fighting for the right to remain sluts or are they united for the unlimited right to kill their own children? Maybe it’s all of that. (Men are equally responsible for this surge of promiscuity; I’m just speaking as a woman) The sexual freedom (enslavement to sin) that they crave is more important to them than the human children created through their unholy unions. This present society is narcicistic and selfish, believing that their own animalistic desires are not subject to the virtue of self control. That is how animals in the wild behave. We are humans!…..again, in the image of God! We have a higher calling than the beast of the wild. Or at least I hope so!

Simulated violence has become an entire game industry. Teenagers and adults spend hours of each day pretending to kill people in these recreational hobbies. All forms of entertainment today glorify violence and sex. Some are used as actual prototypes for mass shootings and sometimes sadly even rape. These deranged young men get to practice being cold-blooded killers in the comfort of their parents basements.  Film director Quentin Tarantino has come to the forefront as the master of gratuitous violence, Hollywood style. Left-leaning Hollywood uses gun violence to sell us movies, yet hypocritically it whines for gun control. In their media they deliver endless samples of new and inventive ways of killing people, often with guns. In any given Tarantino movie 20 or 30 people(characters) can die within 2-3 minutes. Most die without even saying ‘ouch’. As an audience, knowing that it’s make-believe, we’ve become unfazed by it. We are desensitized. As are these young male killers. If these forms of entertainment can numb our sensibilities, imagine if you will, the sensibilities of an already mentally compromised young male. 


Gun rights have been attacked in a kneejerk reaction by liberal propagandists.  On the MSM 24hr news cycle, pundits proclaim that if we made new laws about guns, the problem of killing en masse would be eliminated or curtailed. New laws are for law-abiding citizens. Criminals don’t follow the law, that’s what makes them criminals. To root out evil, in our country at least, we must change the conversation to that of preserving and caring for all human life and its dignity. Life from conception to a natural death. You see, it has never really been about the guns. This is about our descending regard for human life.


For far too long we have allowed our culture to be led by the nose by liberals who offer nothing but a violent conclusion to any given problem. Human beings have been objectified in every corner of our culture. The dehumanization of others is the basis of every barbaric act by mankind that has occurred for well over five thousand years. If we want to fix this human condition, we must pierce hearts with the truth. Science is on our side on this one. The more we learn about the smallest of human beings and what they’re capable of, the further advanced our hearts will be to save them. Jesus humbled Himself to be such a tiny (human/divine) being. Jesus was an embryo conceived by the Holy Spirit. But He humbly took the form of a tiny human. (Phil. 2:8) Even then, King Herod ordered the killing of all male infants that were two years old or younger in Bethlehem.  It was called the Massacre of the Innocents. Today we have Planned Parenthood doing Herod’s bidding. The killing of children is as evil and barbaric today as it was during biblical times. (The Gospel of Mathew) Life is a precious gift from God and must be cherished by all at all times. In order to truly change this world for the better, each of us must show ourselves to be lovers of Life. It can be just as contagious as anything else this world has endured. Love is contagious!

“Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness” from the United States Declaration of Independence! These are inalienable rights that have been given to all humans by our Creator. Life being foremost in our minds because without Life the other rights are useless. Respect Life, respect yourselves, respect one another. God gave us the cure. It’s up to us. Free will and all. Ya know?!












HOW TO SPOT A LIBERAL IN 5 MINUTES OR LESS

Life is not as scary for a black person as a liberal would have you believe. Not here in America. In fact it’s pretty awesome. As in any country, things can always be better. Contrary to popular belief (liberal media), there isn’t a racist around every corner. Shouldn’t we be grateful to live in such a beautiful country that is full of opportunity? More so now than ever before! Most Americans are good, kind and hardworking people. The media gives us all a bad rap, which is why I don’t generally trust it. Liberals just make it worse while kicking that almost dead horse of racism. The reason that I am a conservative is because I believe in God and He sets my standards. The reason that I am a Republican is because I believe in freedom. Freedom of thought is almost sacred to me. I am not unusual at all.

When I speak in this way in the company of others or when I talk about how at this time in history, we as a nation have so much to be thankful for, I am passionately grateful! We the people have so much to be proud of. Yet, within the time span of 5 minutes, out pops the usual liberal in the room. Ding, ding, ding, right on time! It is their mission to say, “But, remember Kathy, blacks still have unequal this or that…”. I then look at my imaginary watch and think, ‘wow, right on time’. You see, as a black woman I am not allowed, in her veiw, to think positively about our situation, life, circumstance, or our future.Her charitable pity underwhelms me. What the liberal in the room is really saying is ‘don’t forget you were a slave once!’. What she is also saying is, ‘remember your place negro’. But the liberal will usually make that interruption under the guise and tone of compassion and understanding. Because liberals are the ‘only’ ones who truly understand the plight of the black people. Right? In truth, the left, the liberals and the Democratic Party have always been the more racist of the two major sides. Only their racism is sinister and under the noticeable current. For example, they say in other words, ‘ we can’t have ID laws because those poor stupid black people won’t be able to figure out how to get an ID to vote.’ That’s really what they are saying. Or how about, ‘ let’s lower the standards for college admission so more blacks can get in!’. Yes, they really are that condescending!

Another tell-tell sign of the liberal is their presumption that because of the color of my skin, I must also be a Democrat. I could write a book about all of the very ill-humored comments that I have received from well-meaning liberals. In that book, I would give examples like after the 2016 election, a sweet lady approached me at a function and said, “Didn’t you love it when Melania Trump swiped his hand away from hers after they got off that plane? Haha!” Well, I didn’t think it was funny at all. But she enjoyed it. I am 57. I’ve been a registered Republican since I was 18 and first voted. I’m happy to see black Republicans growing in number and emerging as a significant force in the 2020 and future elections. I, for one, am really excited about that!

The most exasperating mark of a liberal is when they compliment me on my speech. I’m not sure if it’s my diction or my American accent. I am an American. Am I supposed to have an accent from Africa? No, because I am fluent in English. And for the most part , I speak it correctly. Oh! I get it. I don’t speak ebonics! I’ve tried it before to fit in with a group. It sounded fake. It was fake! That just wasn’t authentically me. But, you would think that living in this country where every child is entitled to free public education for approximately 13 years, we would all speak a somewhat correct form of English. I would expect that. But it’s not happening. I was relentlessly bullied by my peers growing up for not speaking ebonics. Kid’s would ask me to ‘say something!’ and then laugh at the way that I spoke. They called me ‘Oreo’. I never got the hang of ebonics. I can live with that, now.

I am a product of public education. Yet today I see that it has become a failed social experiment. I went to a school for gifted students. One of the first. Very experimental! Today my school would be considered a charter school. I was lucky. I’m not even sure they still teach English in schools anymore. Sometimes, I really try to read posts from young people that I know. Is it even English? I feel like I’m a beginner in a Hooked on Phonics course. They don’t or won’t spell. I have to sound out the words to try to understand them. Didn’t they have to diagram sentences like I had to? What happened?

Contrary to the lefts agenda, America is not a racist country! Blacks have been successful in every area of life in this country. We are presidents, billionaires, homeowners. We are doctors, lawyers, engineers and leaders in business. We conquer sports and entertainment. One only needs to turn on CNN, ABC, CBS or Fox to see that we are well represented, even more so than the actual 13 percent of the population that we currently compose. The media, while complaining of racism ad nauseam, would have you believe that we are not doing well. They spread this perilous idea that if someone treats you badly it is because of your race or their race. Sometimes people are just jerks and that’s it! The media has proven itself to be the arms of the Democratic Party. They have a vested interest in making anything and everything about race. Until they can be sure that all the new immigrants (illegal) will vote for their party, they’ve got a death grip on black American votes. They are afraid. And they should be.

Sure, there are still poor blacks as there are still poor whites, and other ethnicities. Jesus says, “The poor you will always have with you…”(Matt 26;v.11) Not everyone will succeed. We must all care about the poor and of course we pray for the poor. But America has been blessed with abundance. The resources are there. Resourcefulness is what is lacking in some communities however. I don’t know why that is…but it is not racism. That’s what the liberal left wants you to believe. When a politician pontificates that they are going to do something about racism, one needs to run for the hills. Because there is no such program nor a new law that will change the hearts of some imbeciles. I maintain that racism is rare. The true issues are being overlooked because of the left’s obsession with ‘racism’. They should be ashamed of themselves really. Black Americans, in their misplaced loyalty, have handed over their votes to the Democratic Party since Lyndon B. Johnson was president. Yet, every major city that has been governed by the Democrats has become or will soon become a slum, a ghetto, a bad neighborhood complete with the eugenically founded Planned Parenthood. Thanks liberals!!!

One sure-fire way to spot a liberal in under 5 minutes is to say the name, Trump. Watch for that look of dread and anger overcoming their face. A grey veil of death descends upon their being. Their eyes go black and cold. I’m not certain if their heart stops beating or if it starts to beat faster. But, I know that something physiological is happening there. It’s followed by a look of deep disappointment. It’s as if I had committed a mortal sin and the bowels of Hell have opened. In their eyes, I had become something horrifying. I had become…..a misbehaving negro! As though I’d just ran off the plantation and got caught reading! To them, I’m supposed to be a Democrat no matter what I thought or believed. I was a traitor to their belief system. I became a cognitive dissedent. I was contrary to their official narrative. What was I doing thinking for myself and by myself? All of this occurs, mind you, within 5 minutes of meeting a liberal.

In today’s paradox, when we ought to celebrate our accomplishments and progress, we are bombarded with a language of victomhood. We are relentlessly being told that we are either the oppressed or the oppressor. Liberals would rather have us all wading in the dismal waters of defeatism. The liberal mass media daily in a 24 hour news cycle push their narratives in perfect synchrony. It’s as though they all get a memo from the same source so that they can all use the same words pushing the very same narrative. We must not submit nor conform to their factory like ideology. By conforming we will ensure our certain death. If not the death of the body, it will be the death of our hearts. The death of our rights. The death of American Patriotism. We have too much to lose if any of us continue to follow their lead. There is so much brilliance among us all! So much good that we still have to do. We cannot let them stifle our ingenuity. These so called journalists/propagandists are parasitic to the American dream, which rightfully belongs to all Americans. Journalism is officially dead. I have mourned. I had a little funeral in my head for journalism. It was short and sweet. I’m over it. It’s not coming back.

If you are ever in a room and you start to speak about how phenomenal it is to be an American, don’t stop. Please don’t hesitate because a liberal might be in the room. That’s what political correctness has been all about. We do not have to acquiesce to liberal tyranny. Freedom of Speech is still our inalienable right. We have, in the spirit of generosity and politeness, let liberals set the agenda as to what we can or cannot say for far too long. I’m too often told by younger people that I can’t say this or that anymore. I’m told that I have to be sensivite to liberal sensibilities in my speech. Their sensibilities change every week! That sounds exhausting to me. I am done. So, I’m going to say what I mean and mean what I say and let the chips fall where they may! “Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,” and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’ (Matt 6;37) That is what I’ll do, if I spot a liberal in the room.

The painting is called ‘Still Night’ by Kathy Hatch

Art Is My My Relative

I have always loved art. I love music and song and percussion. Music helps me to retreat from the hecticness of this life. But I have been blessed by peace thru my art. Apparently, others didn’t see all of that when my art was shown. I believe that sometimes our art expresses what we are not feeling on the surface.

I was in this one exhibit. I did not post my photo because I thought it was vain. I also know what a hypercrite I am. So I listened to the patrons of the arts as they visited my room, or section. In this case it was a room, because it was a renovated architecturally authentic home from the days of old. But still parts were a replica. These kind people juried me into their gallery.

The responses were surprisingly good. Some of the reactions felt odd to me. This has happened more than once. I introduced myself as the artist. These patrons of the arts are there to sincerely look at the work that we do.

What made, and makes me sad, is that these kind people oft times mentioned to me that, “Kathy, maybe you should do more black art.” Then there was the kind smile. I’m black and I’m an artist! What’s the problem. The problem is marketibility. I didn’t get it at my first show. It took me a while to realize what these people were telling me. What is black art?

I go shopping for a bathroom rug at Ross and it hits me! I see paintings of women carrying baskets on their heads. Paintings of giraffes. A beautiful ‘painting’ of a black woman in a big hat! Oh! I see. My mountains are not ethnic enough. I now have to paint a picture of our struggle as black people. Is that the only message that I can send to the world? I like giraffes as much as the next person. But if I don’t do that, am I not IN as an artist? I am a multi-layered human being. I happen to be a black woman. I feel no responsibility to paint to the masses according to always thinking about the oppression that the news tells me I’m supposed to feel which I actually don’t. I did once try to paint about the beauty of motherhood as I had four small ones at home at that time. It was a woman holding a child. I couldn’t get this sense of dread off of her face nor from her eyes. I questioned my own motherhood. I gave it a week. So I turned her into a big red mountain with a stream around it. I loved that one. I love being a mother. The truth is…sometimes its hard.

What I love is that true freedom that comes to me through art. Even when I’m looking at an old masterpiece, I absorb the work. I feel as though I am there with every stroke of the brush and how the artist had to tilt the arm to get that angle of stroke. I am there.

This painting is called Mother Mary by Kathy Hatch

Things I Forgot to Say

The other day I was talking to a friend on the phone. She’s been having some problems. I listened. I talked a lot. I hoped that I had helped her. But when I got off the phone and was driving on my way to an appointment, I became very sad because there were so many things that I forgot to say.

She knows who Jesus is. I know this because she was there for me and my family when we were experiencing horrific episodes in our lives. They came and went, but she remained my friend through it all! She was Christ for me when I was down and sinking fast. She was Christ for me when I worried about my kids. Christ showed His love for me through her actions and her witness. I hope she knows how important she was and is in my spiritual walk and life. I am blessed beyond.

But, I forgot to tell her that. I should have told her. I should have been a better friend. I forgot to remind her of our loving and merciful God. That God is still that Mercy that we all so desperately need. I am counting on His Mercy. And He will be always loving and merciful to our now adult children. Even when they are out of our reach and we have no say, His eye is on them like the sparrow. I should remember that too!

As parents, we want to hold on to them and keep them safe from the cold brutal world that awaits them. We’ve seen it. So, we do know. They think that we had no life before they were born. Boy, oh boy we all did! And it’s none of their business.

Our children are genuinely good people, each and every one of them, to their very core. They are all different from one another and so individually awesome! God knows that. He was there helping us raise them. He was there when they were born. He was there when they first scraped their knees and cried. Again, my dear friend reminded me of these things when I thought my faith was shattered. When my heart was on the floor and I didn’t want to pick it up again. Christ sent my friend.

Whenever I feel broken, and far away from God. When the world around me is loud and meaningless, God is there in the quiet. It doesn’t even matter if I see, hear or feel His presence. He is there. I trust that He is with my children too. They do belong to Him after all. He loves them even more than I do.

It’s hard to imagine His divine love because we are just so human. So, we must continue to pray regardless of our feelings. Let us continue to pray. Pray, even when you’re angry, and especially when you’re sad. Pray during moments of doubt and always pray when you’re happy. Pray when you’re making difficult decisions. Pray unceasingly! Your words may fail you, but He hears your heart. He laughs with us. He inspires us through the Holy Spirit! He even hides in our tears.

Our adult children are all over the place. Different states and cities. My constant prayer is that one day all of my children will attend Mass with me and their father. One Easter, a few years back, I arrived at Mass a little late. By that I mean that I was actually on time. It being Easter, there were very few seats left when the church bells rang. I saw an open spot and so I went to sit down. Just then, this older gentlman signaled to me that these seats were taken as he beamed with joy. He said, “My kids…”. I nodded, knowing that he was waiting for his three kids! I was happy for him. He was smiling from ear to ear. Easter Mass began in all its glory! There were beautiful lilies all around! Everyone was in their Easter best. There were people standing in the back of the church. Easter is the biggest day of the Church year. After all He rose!!! During one hymn, I turned to look in on the nice man. He was failing at his attempt to hold back his tears. You could tell that he didn’t want people to see his emotion. But I couldn’t help but notice, because I began crying too. His seats were empty. He had his hopes up. His heart was broken and so was mine. They didn’t show up! Everything in me felt why he was crying. I felt his pain as if it were my own. I turned my head back around because I didn’t want him to know that I felt it too. I prayed for him and his kids and for me and my own kids, my friends’ kids, all of our kids! God! Sweet Jesus, I missed my kids being there with us at the Holy Mass!

When that good man returned from communion, as I was kneeling in prayer, he touched my shoulder with his trembling hand. I melted in tears. I knew God was there and He knew it all. I’m reminded that God hears all of our prayers, whether we feel heard or not. But I did feel the presence of Jesus and His love at that moment. He’s always answered my prayers. Always! Sometimes the answer was, “Not just yet”.

God’s love and His goodness are constant. He’ll always be there for our kids. Just like when our kids are not there with us at Mass, we continue to think of them in love. God thinks of us and them in love, mercifully and constantly. We can count on His mercy.

We should be more like my friend. She showed up in the name of Christ for me. I’ll never forget her kindness and counsel. We can be Christ for our friends or someone else in temporal and spiritual need. We can be Christ for our grown up children and their children. The best that we have to offer God is to be Christ for one another. Through Christ, my friend taught me that. Perhaps I’ll tell her now the things I forgot to say. Right after I pray. Thanks Be to God!

Title of painting is Dusk at the Beach by Kathy Hatch

Democratic Party Has Munchausen Syndrome By Proxy

Yes! And black democrats “suffer” Stockholm syndrome. It’s a wicked combination of social disorder.

Remember the Democrats were the slave owners. Not the Republicans! They were the captors. And as captors they did not want black children to learn to read. They wanted to keep black children from attending white schools. Remember George Wallace standing in front of a school adamantly refusing to allow black children go to that school in Alabama? He was a democrat. Democrats formed the KKK in order to intimidate blacks, control blacks etc. Black republicans in 1868 were killed at the hands of white racist democrats for simply trying to get more blacks to vote. That was the Opelousas Massacre where nearly 300 black republicans were slaughtered and killed by democrats to keep blacks in the South from voting. That was just the beginning of their diabolical episode in history. At that time there was a city ordinance banning black people from owning guns. That will never happen again.

Isn’t it very strange that blacks are so loyal to the Democratic Party? Well, when you read even just a little bit about Stockholm syndrome it’s very frightening. Stockholm syndrom occurs in a person or in this case a group that sympathizes with the captor in a hostage situation. They come to rely on their captor for their every need. They depend on their captor for their very existence, like food , water, oxygen. It is formed thru continuous stress and so the captive learns to cooperate in every way for survival. Survival is our first instinct.

Black democrats have a duplicate of disorders. Some people think that it is brainwashing as Herman Cain put it. I think he’s close. Why would any black person be so loyal to the very same group who has historicaly and habitually abused them? It’s like a beaten wife staying with her abusive husband. You want to tell her to get out! He’s hurting you! Yet she stays. She tells you that they love each other. And that he really cares about her. Every four years he drags her out in public, props her up and says “See, look what good care I take of her. I really love her!” Meanwhile her home has become a prison.

The other side of this craziness is Munchausen syndrome by proxy. This is the disorder of the Democratic Party. When a parent or in this case the Democratic Party, harms his or her child (everyone really, but black people here in particular), falsifies the childs medical history (textbook indoctrination in public schools), even tampers with medical records to create a source of attention and urgency by medical professionals. All of it based on the lies of the parent or the lies of the party. The child is not sick. Black people don’t need the Democratic Party. But they may even come to believe that they are sick because it has been drilled in to them by a parent/ party that they trust. The media is who blacks have trusted more than anyone. The media has failed. They lie to us everyday.

The media is ripe with these dysfunctions and disorders. Black millionairs like Sunny Hostin who are on the television daily worldwide would have us believe that the weight of the world is on black people constantly because of the color of their skin. The other day she said “I wake up with this skin everyday.” Ok she’s black. So am I. But, what does she mean by that? She’s on the ABC News Division TV. She probably got to work that day in a limousine. Her hair was professionally styled before she came on air. Her husband is a black doctor. Yet she is pushing the narrative that black people need the Democratic Party to do better in this world.

Black people are 13.4 percent of the population of the United States of America. If race relations were so bad, how did this country elect a black man twice for President? Why are thousands upon thousands of brown and black people climbing the fences to get here? You want to know why? Because this is the best country in the world and they know it! Think about it. At 13.4% black population, this country elected Obama. He was awful at his job but he got elected. That says something amazing about our country. I didn’t vote for him, but we did that twice as a country! We have yet to have a latino, asian, nor jewish president. They are all American too! So let’s keep it moving America! We are BLESSED! GOD BLESS AMERICA!

Kathy’s Right! Because I usually am!

Looney liberals have been speaking for the black community for the last 50 years! Now, there has been a successful and more vocal explosion of black conservatives! We have been called names like coons, oreos, and uncle toms by our own and of course really woke white people.

KAT here! I’ve been on social media and other avenues of communication my entire life and for the most part I have held my tongue. Although some might dispute that. First off, let me introduce myself. I am a beautiful black woman, I am Catholic, I am Republican, conservative and even more so I am an artist! I’m quite humble too!

I find the current political atmosphere to be ridiculous and I feel that I must comment. I named my blog KAThysRight because I usually am. For some reason, I believe that if the world listened to me there would be world peace, no hunger and no violence. But after raising 4 children, I realize that’s an impossible goal. It is impossible because we are all human. And I really don’t think I could improve on what God has done. But God does allow critics/fools doesn’t he? I will touch on many subjects.

I would like to start with the subject of blacks remaining Democrat when the Democratic party has done nothing for us. And by that I mean, they started many “programs” designed as they say to help black people but in reality they have decimated the black family.

Fortunately for me, I was able to look past their diabolical plans. I can see the victorious future for our country! For every American in our country! I am 100% Pro Life! I really can’t stand when I hear, see or meet a Catholic who says “Yeah, but…” about abortion. That makes absolutely no sense and frankly it makes me ill.

I believe that our Constitution is the best example of how a country should be run that has ever existed on this planet. I believe in the Bible, the holy word of God! I believe that human beings are made in the image of God. Except for a few democrats I see on tv. I’m looking at them and trying to see Jesus in them somewhere, somehow. And I keep looking….and then I go….Naaaaah!

Well, I look forward to sharing my thoughts with you, stuff I observe. I think you’ll find them very entertaining to say the least. Welcome, because Kathy’s right.

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