Thirteen years ago, as a cancer patient with 3 and 5-year-old boys, I was afraid. I gained peace by asking myself over and over, "What am I afraid of right now, in this moment?" And the answer was always the same: nothing. My fears were all based on the future.
Are parents who have large families because they believe it is a divine commandment or because they take pride in their family heritage any less capable of creating "life-enhancing relationships" with their children than, say, educated professionals who wait until there are financially stable?
Friends in Teaneck whose power has already been restored have taken us in as refugees, or we would still be sleeping in a cold, dark house, and facing freezing temperatures and another storm system in the week ahead.
What was G-d thinking when he sent Hurricane Sandy and what could have been its purpose? In truth, I don't much care, because our role as humans is not to understand G-d's plan in the face of horror and tragedy, but to challenge God and demand that human life always be protected and preserved.
Even at the depth of Job's suffering, he engages God. He does not cut himself off from the ability to give thanks. Job doesn't deny his own pain; he uses it as a gateway to go deeper into his relationship with God.
Already, boomers are rewriting the script on aging, reinventing retirement and even death. Choosing the right to die, a.k.a. euthanasia, when we're ill, frail, or no longer have quality of life, may well be the new hot button issue.