Yemenia Air's plane crashed

... another airplane crashed into the ocean...
the homepage i open daily titled like this: "a 19 year old Airbus A310 crashed into the ocean"

Soon a huge discussion started on this homepage about safety and technical service of airplanes.
One after another wrote that flying isn't safe any more and all airlines safe money by spending less money on technical service and that 19 year old airplanes can't be safe any more.
this is one of the biggest lies about airplanes and airlines!!!
I'm studying Tourism and Travel Management and just a few weeks ago we talked about technical service of airplanes in my class...
We got a list of all the checks an airline has to do regulary. This list included about 7-10 checks. From the Pre-Flight-Check, which has to be done before every flight by the mechanices and afterwards again by the pilot, to the D-Check, which means that every plane has to be fully taken apart and rebuild. This D-Check takes four to six weeks and has to be done every six to ten years. But after this D-Check you can say the plane is completly rebuild and almost like a new one.
The aircraft companies say that these checks HAVE to be done!
If an airline doesn't care this much about security, they might not be allowed to enter some air spaces, like it was with this Yemenia Air of which the plane crashed into the ocean. This airline wasn't allowed to enter France's air space any more.

So next time, when you're flying somewhere keep in mind that an awful lot of checks have to be done regulary and that just because you see an airplane arrive at the gate and fly off again after an hour, doesn't mean that the plane didn't get checked.

greetings from Germany
-Krissi

To Whom it May Concern: A Letter of Mild Sorrow

To Whom it May Concern,

You, Madam, are looking quite beautiful today wherever and whoever you are. I am surprised and thrown off keel by your startling beauty! You have flushed my cheeks like no other and knocked the wind out of me. I do not know your name and you do not know mine yet. But you are certainly beautiful, and I regret to inform you that I will not be able to marry you, or carry on with you romantically or anything of the sort, for that matter.

You see, Madam, I am entangled in a cause that uses nearly all of me. It pulls me in so many different directions, stretching the known bounds of my ability and mentality, and it causes me great suffering in spurts, and great elation in others. I am locked in as a fighter in a war on slavery--yes, the same one that we thought had been globally abolished. I have frankly signed over my life to this cause, and to the God I believe it calling me to continue fighting it. It is all-consuming, and I can't stand to see that cause you any pain.

For these reasons, I must decline to pursue you any further. Chances are that by the time I meet you or have any contact with you, which may be yet years off, I'll have accidentally led you on--I'm a terrible flirt, you know. I might make the mistake sometime in the future of locking eyes with you. I might tell you your voice haunts me, I might tentatively reach for your hand. I might fall head-over-heels for you, Madam. And if you at that point notice my advances, I will weep for leading you on. I cannot keep myself from wishing things would work, but I also cannot deny the near implausibility of such a dream.

I had the pleasure and discomfort of sitting down to watch the film 'Flash of Genius', the film portraying the life and efforts of the inventor of the intermittent windshield-wiper. It seems such a strange premise for a film, but instead it ended up hitting home. You see, Madam, you do not know yet just how dedicated I am to this battle. I will keep fighting. I will always be consumed with this war, which is at times a great distress for me. I have loved and been loved before, and I would imagine I will certainly miss it.

Madam, dearest, I'm not necessarily ruling out marriage for all eternity, but I simply cannot promise anything as of yet. This task at hand, this war, this all-consuming fire and passion for justice must outpace the passion for romance and distracted relationships. I am sorry, deeply sorry, Madam, but I cannot now entertain the notion of marriage, courtship, or any kind of emotional bond beyond friendship. I am afraid of falling for you, of entering into a life with you, I am afraid that you will be less devoted to the dire need for justice. I am afraid my dedication to the war will tire you and cause a rift, so it is best, I believe, to avoid forming any such bond that can be rent by such a violent passion for something... other than you.

Darling Madam, you are beautiful, I am certain, you take my breath away, or at least you will, but I am afraid of taking much more away from you, and I fear breaking yet another heart because of what I am seeking to engage. I have hurt and damaged other women because of driving so hard against injustice, and I cannot do it to another beautiful, graceful woman.

I do not yet know you, Madam, or at least I cannot see you yet in such a romantic a lovely light. I apologize profusely, with heart-felt anguish, that if such a spark ever occurs between your eyes and mine, I will risk tearing you and I both to the ground, and rebuilding a broken heart takes years. Please, Madam, you are too beautiful a person to wound.

If it ever seems the battle is being won rather than continuously lost, perhaps I shall call on you then. I thank you for understanding, if you ever do. I hope that when you read this, you will not see any coldness in my message. Chances are I'll have found you utterly beautiful and probably the finest catch of all time. This is meant to encourage you to find a more suitable adventure in love in another man. This man, this previously engaged man, is simply not able to give you all that you deserve, or more. He regrets it avidly and will your interests at the foreground.

Whoever you are or will ever be, know that I would probably have loved you to my best ability while fighting this war on other fronts, but I would simply never do YOU the justice I would hope for.

Peace be with you, and may you find happiness with another man who will love you more than I ever could.

In a final moment of sadness I must walk away from your front porch in my full combat gear, my belt polished and gleaming, my boots laced high and tight, my rifle slung over my shoulder, locked and loaded, my shirt and slacks clean and crisp, something you would be proud of. I hope you see upon my face a smile that conveys with quivering lips how much you will probably have meant to me in the brief time of knowing you. I hope you are able to know full well how hard it is for me to carry this banner into the streets and march, one foot in front of the other, with heavy heart, into battle in every corner of the world. I will move into the rice mills, the restaurants, the brothels, the trucks, trains, and boats, and I will destroy injustice, bringing the captors before a judge, and the broken, oppressed victims into a warm and loving home to care for them. I will carry no weapon but my heart on fire.

I'll think of you on the battlefields and in the quiet nights reading reports and documents that contain information to release women, children, men of all stripes. I'll think of you and remember a beautiful woman whose eyes held my heart for but a brief time, and I'll try to blink your image away, and in a painful act of devotion to a hurting world, I'll eventually forget you and the way you made me feel. I'll probably pray that you sleep well each night and that no harm comes your way. I'll pray that you never have to experience what I will. I'll pray that you are able to find the affection and ultimate care of a man who knows you in every way, who will give his all to protect and cherish you; who will gently guide you back to the better path, and will be patient with you in every way, and never once neglect you.

I don't know if such a man exists, but chances are I'll always believe that you deserve such a man.

I cannot be that man, for my mind will always be so strongly drawn to things beyond my control, and I would always be pulled away from you, leaving you cold and empty, if I were to attempt to be that man. In falling short I'd weep for days and Inevitably I'd need to walk away, wishing it weren't so.

For all these reasons, Madam, I must close the door between us, the troops are waiting. I wish I could give you a kiss in parting, but I don't want that to be the last memory you have of me as you hopefully start a new life and relationship with another man. I just hope you remember me for a spell, a very short spell, as a man who went on to humbly accept his duty, who gives you fond memories possibly, but who ultimately was only just a friend. I hope you will forget me, Madam. I hope you will give yourself fully to the man that you marry, for he will do everything in his power to make you first in all he does.

I will think fondly of you, Madam, as I step into the fray, encouraged by your gentleness and your compassion. You will likely have been a great friend, Madam. I thank you for all you will have done, and all you will have been to me.

Adieu fair Madam. May God be with you. May Injustice anger you. May peace come to you knowing that there are others sacrificing in this war that you may have peace and live a full life.

Shalom.

Not For Sale Campaign

Well, folks... I suppose I'm back then, aren't I?

I've been away for far too long and I feel sort of like spitting out loads of sappy cliches just to bog you all down. But I won't.

In reality I was always within reach of my computer, bus so hardly involved in anything bigger than myself, and I was ever more encouraged by loved ones to keep my private life private. I made a lot of mistakes with my direction and... the long and short of it is that now I am re-engaged in a battle I've made mention of a few times in these posts.

I've recently been appointed the Deputy State Director for the Indiana chapter of the Not For Sale Campaign [to combat human trafficking and modern-day slavery].

My boss and partner in leadership is Sarah Joy, and she's been a pleasure to work with so far!

About a month ago I applied for the Abolitionist/Investigator Training Academy in San Francisco, a 2-week training session put on by the Not For Sale Campaign four times this summer to train new abolitionists to work closely with the organization, and to watch out for and expose incidents of human trafficking and modern-day slavery in the States, and around the world.

(How's that for a run-on? I'll be sure to keep the rest of this a bit more tidy!)

Shortly after booking my flight and solidifying plans for the trip, I grew bored of sitting around, aching for more to do. In a fit of such monotony, I went to the NFSC website and found out that there are Regional/State Directors who volunteer to coordinate efforts under their supervision in a given geographical area. It was a blessing to see that there was someone I could work with in Indiana and I immideiately contacted Sarah Joy. Within a week, after quickly exchanging all sorts of information, initiatives, ideas, and desires for the future of the states, I asked to join her more officially and the higher-ups granted me that permission, et voila!

We've laid out a lot of groundwork for the organization and have come to understand ourselves as the foundation-layers of the state, working to build a framework for future volunteers to take on the "big things." Due to my upcoming stint at the Academy, I'll be leading the investigative and mapping department, while Sarah will spear-head the victim aftercare initiatives and the public relations. (She's got stellar speaking skills!)

There are several people already lined up to help her with the vision of starting a shelter for trafficked women and children, and hopefully one also for men. We're moving forward at an incredibly rapid pace! I've been so pleased and excited to learn that she and several others have already spoken to various groups and individuals, at multiple events, long before I even came on board.

It's incredible to be involved now, and though I struggle with balance and forcing myself into exhaustion every few days, I'm not willing to stop fighting any time soon.

There's a powerful scene in the film Gattaca, in which the protagonist and his brother are trying to out-swim each other across a lake. The protagonist, Vincent, was born naturally, with the usual human deficiencies, while his brother, Anton, was born with scientific and genetic enhancements, part of a new generation of super-humans. Vincent fights his whole life to become better than he was born to be, to the annoyance of Anton. On the eve of Vincent's dreams coming true, his brother learns the truth, finding that Vincent has taken on someone else's identity and deceived everyone in the space program, desiring to go up in the next shuttle launch.

Anton asks him, between coughing breaths and slaps of water, how he did it, how he made it so far. Vincent turns and, watching his brother who, in defeat, starts to turn to swim back, replies:

"You want to know how I did it? This is how I did it, Anton: I never saved anything for the swim back."



I will take a few moments now and then to tread water and catch my breath. I will pause briefly to remember who drives me to do this, who is fighting slavery right beside me and within me, who is allowing me to be a part of something so necessary, right, and awe-inspiring. I will seek the face of the Adonai who inspires Abolition, and I will continue fighting and swimming and working, and I'll kick the darkness till it bleeds daylight.

Shalom.