this is just a test

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Dipping my toe, testing the water

Hello world.

I know there are thousands and thousands of you just waiting for my return to the blogosphere. I'm sorry to have deprived you myriads of people of my insight and wisdom.

Okay, now that I've exercised my delusions of grandeur, perhaps I can actually write something more based in reality.

Hi, Jeremy. Sorry to have been silent so long! Your email this morning caught my eye, and I responded. But after hitting send, it dawned on me that perhaps in my response was the germ of a new beginning, and I'd plant it here and see if maybe a new creation might appear.

I'm going to start today by just posting what I sent you in email... or at least some of it (slightly edited). And we'll wait to see if any more comes to me.

You asked me how God was moving in my life. I responded thus:

... [F]rankly my friend, I'm not sure that God is. In the months after Mom's dying, I became so focused on Dad and on work and on Scott, that it took me a couple of months to realize that my relationship with God had, for all intents, shrivelled to nothing. By November, I no longer sensed God's presence in my life, nor could I reach out and find that Presence again. Prayer became totally empty for me. It was as if God and I had agreed to leave each other alone... and GOD alone was living up to the bargain.

During this period, I pulled back from all responsibilities in my church, feeling totally burned out on them. In February, I decided to not return to church. By that time, I would come in to church, sit down, and by 3/4 of the way through the service (sometimes by 5 minutes IN to the service) I'd feel such a rage overtaking me. I'd leave in a fury when service ended. I made the decision it was time to not come back until I'd found and defeated the demon in me. Okay, no I'm not saying this in the context of possession.

Now, I'm rooted enough in my faith, and in Christian tradition, and in theology to know that God has never left me in this time. Nor, indeed, had I wandered all that far from God. During this time, I continued to see my Spiritual Director; and my pastor and I get together to discuss theology and "whatever" every month over dinner. In spite of my crisis of faith he kept me close to himself as one of his advisors, and that helped.

Beginning in April, I've begun to come out of this "Dark Night of the Soul". In May, I returned to church (a short absence!) Once I sat down and said "Okay, God, I don't understand what is happening in my life, but I accept your invitation to delve more deeply into the mystery of You," I began to make some minor headway. I've learned that my understanding of the Christian God was insufficient. In fact, I've come to believe that the Christian understanding of God is itself direly flawed. I find myself becoming more and more a disciple of Bishop Spong (though I do have some issues with him).

My pastor and I have begun a series of discussions... we are working our way through the Gospel of Thomas together. And I'm finding in Thomas more of what I believe than I ever did in the Synoptic Gospels or in John, at least in this stage of my life.

I have returned to this blog time and time again, Jeremy. I sit and stare, read old passages; nothing comes to me. I so want to write, but when I sit down to do so... nothing comes.

Well, we'll have to wait and see, my brother, what God has in store. Maybe, just maybe, as the Dark Night gives way to Dawn, the words or the ideas will come to me.

Untitled

Mom died. She died the day after my last post here. It's taken me this long to say it, though.

The first few weeks afterwards, I thought, would be the hardest. But there was so much to do; in the minutes and hours and days immediately following her dying, there was the visitation and funeral to plan, and oh, I don't even know what I did during those days... they're all a whirlwind now. And of course there was Dad to contend with. Poor Dad. He's totally lost without her. He put up a bold front those last months, but his own Alzheimers was beginning to have an impact.

There, in her room at the nursing home, waiting for the Coroner to come and take her away, I stood with Dad. Neither of us could sit... there was a nervous energy in us. Dad looked at me as I looked at mom. "Well, I suppose we better start getting me moved back to Omaha."

"We will Dad, but don't you think we should wait a little while, until things have calmed down."

"You're probably right."

The Coroner came, as did a police officer (purely procedural). Mom was taken away.

"I suppose we should start getting me packed up to move back to Omaha."

"Yeah, Dad, you're right. But let's get some of the other things we have to do taken care of first."

"What things?"

"There's the funeral to plan, Dad. And the boys and their wives are flying in..."

So we headed over to the Mortuary, as I called Dad's twin brother. He joined us at the Mortuary.

The director stepped out to get us coffee almost as soon as we sat down. Dad turned to Uncle.

"I think we need to get over to my apartment and get me packed. I need to move back to Omaha now."

"Why don't you come stay with me for a couple of days, Lou?"

Dad agreed.

But Monday, the day of the visitation, we'd all caved in... my brothers and I and our spouses met at Dad's apartment, packed him up, threw his stuff our vans and our cars, and moved Dad over to Omaha. Then dashed back to our homes and hotel rooms to get showered and changed so we could get to the mortuary for the visitation... it wouldn't do to be late!

Those weeks were the easy ones, I now see.

For now the depression sinks in. Now I face the darkness. It was settling in months before Mom died, I just didn't see it. I thought I was tired. It wasn't until two months after Mom's death that it dawned on me, that I was able to put my finger on it.

For too damned close to fifty years, I have known the presence of The Divine. There has never been a time when I didn't feel, didn't know The Divine presence. And that presence helped sustain me.

Well, actually, I should say until now, there has never been a time. Because, now is that time. Now, I sense only darkness around me.

Anyhow, that's where I am right now.

Let's play catch! (up)

My writing here is sketchy... I realize that. And I doubt that any of my readers, or the few there were, are with me any more to see this. But, I thought I should at least attempt to get caught up on my life here.

August 9, 2007, just as promised in my last post (March 20, 2007) Scott and I stood before a minister overlooking the beautiful Moraine Lake in Alberta, Canada, and professed, once again, our love for each other. We were pronounced "husbands" by Rev. David D. of Calgary, AB, Canada.

We returned from Canada excited and flush with joy on our wedding... only to discover we'd left the camera in the rental car. Thankfully, Rev. David was able to retrieve it for us, and has now sent it along to us, so we have our pictures!

When time permits, I'll post the pictures we have. And maybe even the text of our wedding ceremony. And, in fact, I'll post a bit more about the wedding trip itself.

For now, I just want to catch up on my life.

Unfortunately, also on our return, I had to make the decision that I've been dreading. We had to move Mom in to a nursing home. Dad also had to leave their home at the Assisted Living facility, as the nursing home is 20 miles awy, and I couldn't have Dad driving that far. It took us a week to make arrangements, a week to pack, and a third week to fully move everything out of their old apartment.

And now, it seems, a lot of that effort will have been wasted. Mom stopped eating after moving in to the Nursing home. And, as of the day before yesterday, is now taking no nutrition or hydration. It is only a matter of days before she dies, I'm sure. It is so hard to write that. Even though I know it.

So, THAT brings you all up on my life. There's really nothing to report, because the last year has been involved in seeing to the day to day needs of my parents, my job, and my family, and there's been no energy left for creativity.

Heavens knows this post certainly doesn't qualify as creative writing.

I take thee....

Some years ago, I wrote about marriage. I said basically, that while an official, recognized by the state marriage was important, married in the sight of God was the more important. In August 1997, my partner Scott and I had done just that, gotten married in the sight of God in a Holy Union.

Well, ten years have now gone by. Scott and I are more in love today than ever we were back in 1997.

And this year, come August 9, 2007, we will officially celebrate our 10th Anniversary by doing what I seemed to discount in that previous post. Scott and I will stand, once again, before God and our fellows, and declare to God that we want to continue for another 10... no 100... no forever... in marriage.

We're going to be going to Calgary Canada to be married in a beautiful setting that we discovered a couple of years ago, Moraine Lake.

And I just couldn't be happier!

My Journey Continues

I've noticed something recently.  I was remembering a back-packing trip I took ages ago, alone, into the high country near Estes Park, Colorado.  I remember the sense of awe and majesty I had with every change of the trail.  I remember also that I felt far more alone than I had expected to.  By that I mean, I was SEEKING solitude.  I wanted to be alone.  I thought it would a good experience.  Instead, I found that being alone in this situation meant not having anyone to share the awesome beauty with.  In fact, that loneliness caused me to do something I really regretted in later years.  I turned back.  I didn't finish my goal.  I allowed myself to listen to my own doubts and fears.  I wish I had.

 

But at one point on the trail, I encountered a couple of men, a man and his son, actually.  We were at a particularly rough part of the trail, and we helped each other up and over that spot.  Not much to it, really.  But remembering that, caused me to remember something from other hikes I've been on.  I remembered how when the trail was rough, and not easy to get over, folks, total strangers, tend to pull together.  At least I think that has been my experience when the overall endeavor was one of choice, as most hiking trails are.

 

I was thinking about that as I was pushing 70 on the interstate between my home and the office this morning (yes, in a 60 zone, so sue me.)  On the freeway, these days, it seems to be rare to see folks helping each other.  A turn signal frequently means someone will speed up to prevent  you from getting in front of them.  Breaking because one is going to fast means the person behind will pull up on your bumper expecting you to move.  In short, Interstate driving, as experienced in our society today, is pretty much every person for themselves... dog eat dog... that kind of thing.

 

And THAT realization, coupled with the memories - oh so pleasant memories - brought to mind another contemplation.  Albeit, a short one.  It's all the focus my brain can muster... short contemplations.

 

When the trails we walk on our journeys through life are hard and narrow, it seems to me to be easy to reach out to those around to lend a helping hand, and to be willing to grasp the proffered hand of another.

 

But when our journeys flatten out on to the freeways of life, as they often do, we tend to think a little less of those around us... it's just us and the highway, getting us to a place we've never been, but can't wait to reach.

 

When I consider that, it makes me glad the interstate is about to end, and I look forward, once again, to the travails of the thorny path on which my journey soon will... okay MAY... lead me.

 

And what's more, it's on those narrow, thorny paths that OTHER finds us most open to listen, more willing to reach out for help; more willing to accept.

Busy, busy, busy

It sure has been a long time since last I wrote. I'm not sure why that is. I think partially it's because I really haven't felt like I had anything worthwhile to say.

I'd like nothing more than to be a writer. I think, however, that writing is a gift; and I suspect that my lack of having much to say is a rather brazen indication that I don't have that gift. When I want to, I think I can write well. But there's a difference between writing something well, and having what it takes to "be a writer."

So I'm not a writer. It won't stop me from writing on my blog when the mood hits.

The past months have been nuts. First of all there’s my job. The big problem from the perspective of spending time writing posts for my blog, when it comes to my job, is that, well, I have one. When I first started posting to this blog back 2004, I had lots of spare time at work. Sometimes, I still do; generally, however, every week gets more and more busy. There’s not a lot to say other than that. Lots of work, less idle time, less blogging.

Add to that the stress that comes from knowing that all this work I do is, eventually going to come to an end. It’s been 11 months since our merger, and I was told then that they’d only be keeping me around for 12 – 18 months. I sort of expect a pink slip any day. That wears at the soul, dragging me down. To make matters worse, I still don’t know what I want to do with myself after I leave. I think to some degree I suffer from a bit of depression.

Then there’s my family. They take a lot of time. Especially my folks. Both of them have Alzheimer’s (I think I’ve written about that before.) Mom is getting pretty close to the end of her life. By that I mean that the prognosis is that she’ll last anywhere from a week to another 3 – 4 years. But mentally, she’s already gone.

Dad, too, is now becoming more pronounced. I’ve had to take over his finances.

If it weren’t for Scott, I suspect I’d feel pretty sorry for myself sometimes, even though I do have my health, with no concerns (other than diabetes, which I keep mostly under control.) But Scott is my surety in troubled times. He’s the bastion of strength I sometimes don’t feel for myself. Scott is the rock of stability, emotional and spiritual, that I cling to when everything seems to crash in upon me, and I feel in danger of washing away into a sea of grief or despair. Scott is, in short, my everything, the stuff which makes me who I am. Without that man, my life would be empty, a shell. Yes, I love him.

And what little time is left after spending my hours at work and hours with my parents is consumed by my commitment to my church. There are times I just want to chuck it all and leave. But after Scott, my friends at church are the next most important thing in my life. Soon, the load there is going to diminish… maybe. We get a new pastor, after floating aimlessly for 2 years without one. Okay, not so aimless. We’ve done pretty well for ourselves, actually. But it still will be a good thing to have ‘someone at the helm’ again!

And when that comes, maybe Scott and I will have time for ourselves again; time to forge an even surer tie between us. And time to work on our house, work that has gone largely undone in the past year because of all the other activities we’ve taken on!

Violence

I have discovered what violence does to one. Specifically, I have discovered first hand the effect that an assault with a deadly weapon has on the victim.

I don't know if my assailant thinks what he did was assault. I wonder if he realizes how incredibly stupid he was, and how terribly lucky he is? Or maybe he just doesn't care that his act of stupidity could have caused serious injury to myself... and to others?

Sir, I must tell you, I've actually referred to you as "the gentleman" in talks with the police and the insurance company. You certainly are no gentleman. But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps you had just left the casinos and were angry because you had lost your entire life's savings. Perhaps you were running late for work and your oh so important job wouldn't understand you're being maybe a minute or two later than you were going to be. Either way, you're an idiot and I hope you get caught.

I have no idea what your problem was, obviously. I'm probably wrong on all counts. But intentionally ramming me on the interstate yesterday morning has really had a negative impact. I was speeding, sir, doing 10 miles over the speed limit, yet obviously not fast enough for you. Your efforts to get me to pull over failing, you just rammed me. Yes, my car is damaged. It's not much really. You have some too, as a result... Oh, did I mention, I got your license plate number? The police have it too, now.

Do you want to know what the cost of your stupidity was? NO? That doesn't surprise me. I'm really sure you DON'T care. I'll tell you anyhow.

It's cost me a new bumper. It cost me a trip to the doctor, I now have whiplash. Fortunately, it's not severe. But sir, your actions have gone far deeper than a dented bumper, or sore muscles. Your actions bruised me profoundly. I have no clue why. But your attack on me, your assaulting me with your automobile in a way that you MUST have known could have caused extreme damage, even death, has shaken me to my bones. What if I'd lost control? What if you'd NOT been dead on center when you hit, but instead hit off to one side or the other, causing my van to veer, perhaps flip? That happens with minivans, you know? By the way, I've just got to ask... what WAS so important that you'd intentionally cause damage to your own late model SUV? It really was a nice looking vehicle. I'm sure it doesn't look so good now.

I get misty eyed over nothing. I can't concentrate, now; I find myself sinking into a near trancelike state while talking with friends. I can't focus on work, so you've cost my employer two days of productive work.

Sir, I just gotta say this. You suck. You suck! You are such a god damn worthless pile of shit occupying human skin. So, piss off. I hope I'm right, I hope you were angry because you just lost your entire life's savings.

The "L" Word

Okay, so I read one of my daily blogs last night. Guy was talkin' about a meme that he'd gotten involved in. Basically it works like this... you make a comment on the guy's blog, and he then assigns you a letter. You're supposed to come up with 10 words that begin with that letter, along with an explanation of what the word means to you and why. Then you pass along letters to those who want to play along. So, I responded. It sounded FUN!

You see, while the person whose blog I got this from is a REAL writer, I do enjoy writing, feel myself no stranger to it. Realize I'm nowhere good enough to ever dream of publishing. But 10 words? Should be easy, right? He assigns me the letter L.

L words
10 of them
together with their meanings to me and why they came to mind.
Ugh.

I've been thinking about this all day long, and I'll be dang-nabbed if all of a sudden there is a dirth of L words. Not one comes to mind for a long time... okay, 1 does, but I think, NOOOOO... that's too obvious. Can't go with that word... Lesbian... I mean why? Okay, so, I finally decide to go with it, just to get the ball rolling, ya know? This ain't easy, man!

1. Lesbian: Uh, what does it mean to me? Why? Uh, that should be obvious... Lesbian. a woman who is attracted to other women, and not, generally, to men. I mean, I'm queer, folks! I see references to GLBT every damn day, so what is going to be the first... okay 2nd word that comes to mind? Lesbian. Like, DUH! (BTW, the 1st word is a name, and I'll protect that person from this!)

So I think to myself, okay that worked well, I've identified the 2nd word that comes to mind, now what.... Hmmm. Let's see. I woke at 5... as I go through my day, what L words come unbidden to me, BEFORE I got this assignment?

2. Leak. Yup, actually the 1st L word today. Actually, it was the 4th word to come to my mind today. It was preceded by "Gotta tak a". I find I usually only need to take one leak a day, so that's a good word for this list. the rest of the day, I'm consumed with "Going to the potty." "Needing to Pee." and "Takin' a piss". But first thing in the morning, I take the one and only leak I'm going to take all day.

3. Lecherous. okay, I'm using it as a euphemism or rather a synonym for "horny". This is an L list, after all, not an H list. Lecherous... my partner comes out of the bedroom about 20 minutes after I awake... once the coffee's made. I see his hot bod, and I'm immediately feeling h.... uh, I mean lecherous.

4. Limber. As in Not. As in it's time to jump on the treadmill while aforementioned partner showers... my legs are stiff. I'm so friggin sore. My knee locks up almost immediately... fuckin' arthritis. I need to str... no, I need to LIMBER UP! -- or-- conversely, perhaps that's not the reason this word makes the list... Limber... as in dang, if I were just a little more limber, partner and I could do it THIS way... that would be a blast! I mean....

5. Luscious: I'd love to be limber enough to bend like this so that I could take partner's luscious.... ahem, uh, you get the idea.

6. Lousy: I've had my shower, but I'm still feeling lousy... I'd have much rather not had to use my hands this morning.... just thinking of that luscious....

7. Late: Yeah, Late makes the list... I spent so much time in the shower this morning thinking those lecherous thoughts, letting the hot water try to sooth out some of the kinks in my neck, and pleasuring that now I'm friggin' late!

8. Lazy: I've sat at this desk now for a couple of hours, and frankly, I'm feeling lazy. I think it's time to nap... nope, can't do that. Closing my eyes makes me think lecherous thoughts about my limber, luscious partner, and frankly, that makes me feel lousy... 'cause ain't nothin' I can do about it! (I'm at work, remember?)

Okay, this is getting hard now. The contest fool, pay attention! The contest... or meme, rather, is getting very difficult... I need 2 more L words. And preferably words that will not require I take a protracted break in the men's room.... Having a dictonary would certainly help right about now!

Did you know a web search for "L" will pull up 1,010,000,000 links? I don't think I'll visit them all. Might take a little longer than I have today. 2 more Ls... think eric, THINK!

Okay... just got back from the restroom... gotta come up with 2 more words.

9. Loser. There's a good word... now, I'll admit, it's not the first word that came to mind, but it's the second... asshole doesn't begin with an L... and those are the two words that automatically ALWAYS pop into mind when I see any headline with the word BUSH in it. Oh, wait. This headline has to do with something found in a bush at a park... well, whoever put that there was a loser, so it fits!

Uh, get your mind out of the gutter folks! I went to the restroom to take a piss, not... anything else.

And you can't prove otherwise.

10. Living. Ah, now that's a great L word! Living... as in "It's great to be..." Ain't life grand? There's so much to see, so much to do... and as a friend points out, it's better than the alternative!

Sexual Morality?

May 11, 2006
Weather: Mostly sunny, 50 degrees.

Dear Diary:

Okay. I was SUPPOSED to start a diary, and be more dedicated to it. So, bad, BAD Eric.

And I don't have much else to write today, either. Last night went to hear a speaker here in Omaha. We have a couple that underwrite a speaker series, bringing people from around the world to speak about ethics, morality, etc. It's called the Holland Lecture Series.

Anyhow, last night's speaker was Rev. Haffner, who spoke on the topic of "sexual morality, justice, and healing". It was an excellent talk, and was amazingly in line with my own thoughts on the connection between sexuality and spirituality.

We (a group from my congregation) and I went with a purpose, hoping to hear something about a topic she wrote about, but she didn't touch that topic... so from that perspective, it was a bust. But what she DID speak about, had two effects on me. First, I really felt an immediate connection with what she was saying and an agreement with her observations. The second one was a bit slower in coming, as she caused me to really stretch my current positions on some issues of sexual morality... helping me to look at some issues in a bit of a different light.

Anyhow, all's good here.

Ciao!

And another thing

Rather than edit my previous post to add this, I'll just create this as an addendum.

Ahem. Now, let's see how we do this:

May 8, 2006
Weather: Mostly sunny, 76 degrees.

Dear Diary:

This morning I had to get up and FOREGO my morning coffee. No, that's wrong... I had to forego my morning Coffee. That's Coffee with a Capital C. I also had to forego my cereal, my milk, and any water.

But, oh the joy! In their place I got to feast on Milk of Barium! BLLeeaaaaacccckkkkkkkkkk!

So, the doctor thinks this pain (which I had assumed was an injury from lifting some marble) may be Diverticulitis. Now, I have to confess I never knew I HAD a divertick but, hey, he says I do... or at least he implied I had one by saying it was infected.

Anyhow, now we'll see how that goes.

On another front, I'm wondering what's up... I've been a total BITCH lately! I mean, I think I've related in the past that I have an issue with rage. Rage and I are on a first name basis. But this isn't rage, it isn't anger, it's just... bitchiness.

I've snapped at folks at work. Oh, and here I need to interject that I was wrong, it IS related to rage, because my bitchiness starts out as simple bitchiness, but graduates into full blown rage once I get behind the wheel.

But more importantly than the people at work I've been bitchy too (because after all, who gives a rat's @ss about them????) is I've been bitchy to the man I love. And that just plain sucks. As in totally, unequivocally, unabashedly SUCKS with a major ! at the end.

So, diary, tell me, you greatest of confidants... what the f@ is up?

Well, that's it, oh dear one... 'Til the morning.

E

Not too bad!

Okay, people liked my sermon yesterday! I was really quite pleased with it myself... except for the ending. The second I was done and walking away, I knew it was wrong... that it needed more.

In fact, I think that, in retrospect, when I ended the sermon was just starting! Ending with that quip about praying to God being like the Amazon flowing UP to water a little daisy... I knew what I meant. A few others did too... but they told me they were left wanting more.

So, it's a challenge. I need to hash this out. Because, and this is funny to me... I KNOW what I meant... but I don't know how to say it.

Getting case of the nerves!

Today, I'm preaching again. When I first said "Yes, sure, I'd be happy to preach" I was feeling very confident. Today, not so much.

I'm not sure why I get this way... I literally go through cycles where I can get up in front of church and do anything... and then become totally afraid to even get near the front. I'm obviously heading into the "bad times" again. It's one of the reasons I left the seminary... imagine a priest who was terrified of saying mass! LOL.

So, here's the sermon, just in case you're interested.

"The Amazon"

Did you know that the Amazon River is the world’s SECOND longest river, but at any one point in time it has the highest amount of water flowing down it. In fact, no other river in the world even comes close. Remember that.

I love spring-time. I like watching the trees, and seeing the bud's sprout on the branches. You know how it is? You look over at some trees and you wonder "Are those BUDS I see?" About the time that those tree buds become obvious, I start watching the poor little rose bushes that grow in my front yard... did they survive the winder? Did the poor little one on the end survive being run over by Gary the first time he mowed the lawn this spring? It's the prettiest, if the smallest of all our roses. It's dusty purple of a shade that I just really love. From the look of it this morning, if I had 2 more weeks before this sermon, I could have brought in one of it's flowers to show you.

About the same time that the trees are beginning to bud, and the roses are stirring into life, some tulips that we've never remembered to take up under our front windows pop out through the sod, and in just a few days they bloom... a beautiful blood red with yellow stamens. Once those are in flower, it's time for the funny blue flowers by the front stoop to show up. Bottle nose something or others!

For the most part, the phlox didn’t make it through winter this year… though a few still valiantly bloom. Next to them, are some wild violets that we didn’t plant… they just found their way to our yard.

All the annuals in the flower beds in the front are gone, naturally... just ugly shoots that need to be taken out.

About this time every year we look at our garden, and Scott says “It’s time to plant.”

“Yup”, I say. And then Scott goes off, buys some flats of annuals, brings them home, and we prep the front beds, and Scott plants.

Scott can verify that I am NOT a gardener. If we’re going to have a garden, it’s Scott that’s going to have to put it in… then, once it’s in, I’ll water the flowers, and I’ll admire their beauty once they’re in bloom. But the credit for our gardens, such as they are, falls to Scott.

Today is known to many as “Good Shepherd Sunday”. The Psalm and the Gospel are shepherd stories. And the NT Reading fits in with them fairly well. “I am the good Shepherd” is one of the better known sayings of Jesus. He used that symbolism, because the people of his time… even the city folk of Jerusalem… would have understood that symbolism. Israel, in Jesus time, was still very much an agrarian, shepherding society.

I suspect that the larger majority of us in this room only know about shepherding by reading about them or hearing about them in church from people like me, who went out and read about them from someone else who wrote stories about shepherding in order to clarify the “Shepherd” stories of the bible. And those writers… well, most of them have very little first-hand knowledge of sheep or shepherding!

What would Jesus use today for his metaphors? I honestly don’t know. But I do know that, even if many of us will never see a sheep except at the petting zoo at Henry Doorly, or encounter shepherds, except perhaps while watching Brokeback Mountain, most of will see flowers this spring. Most of us will admire their beauty. Most of us know that flowers need watering.

Some of us will even know that the prettiest gardens are maintained by gardeners who plant new flowers when old ones die, pull the weeds out to keep the flowers from being strangled. We’ll know that these gardeners will make sure the plants have food, either by mixing fertilizers in with the soils before planting the flowers, or by mixing them in the water they use to nourish the plants.

A few of us may know that some really, really pretty flowers like roses get that way because the gardener carefully prunes the flowers, directing the growth and the resources of the plant in specific ways to ensure that a few promising buds get the most nutrition and grow strong, rather than numerous buds getting little nutrition and thus being weak.

All of this is foreign to me. I just know that no matter how much work Scott puts in to our garden, those plants will die and produce NOTHING, unless one of us waters those plants.

I know this about how gardens and today’s message interrelate. I know there are flowers in the world. Those flowers are you and you and me. I know there is a Gardener; I know that Gardener is our Parent, God. And, I know that just as human gardeners pour water on their flowers, so God pours his love on each of us.

I know this too. If a human gardener decides to water his daisies, then gets called away, leaving the water to run and run and run, the daisies will get too much water, and they’ll drown!

But when God waters us with his love, it’s like the whole of the Amazon River flowing down to water one little daisy.

Can you imagine that kind of love? Have you ever encountered it before? A love so overwhelming, so intense, that when you’re caught up in it you feel like you’re going to drown, to suffocate… and it’s a GOOD feeling?

There have been a few times in my life when I have experienced that kind of love. And when I do, it’s always because God is there. It feels just like that image of the daisy and the Amazon…

I think all of us can feel that love if we open ourselves up to the awesome splendor and wonder of God’s love for us.

God loved us so much that God became ONE of us. And, as the second reading this morning stated, that love was so intense that GOD DIED FOR US. FOR ME. FOR YOU. AND YOU AND YOU AND YOU AND YOU AND EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM.

Is that a secret to anyone in here? If it is, I am proud to spill the beans! GOD LOVES US, each and every one of us with a love as immense as all the waters of the Amazon flowing down to water one little daisy.

I don’t know how to say it any better than that.

But I do know what to add TO that.

You see, someone shared a message with me on Friday, about an old man who came into church, dressed in grungy clothes. The man came in every day and prayed a simple prayer that went something like this:

"I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, JESUS, HOW HAPPY I'VE BEEN, SINCE WE FOUND EACH OTHER'S FRIENDSHIP AND YOU TOOK AWAY MY SIN... DON'T KNOW MUCH OF HOW TO PRAY, BUT I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY. SO, JESUS, THIS IS JIM CHECKING IN, TODAY."

Then, one day, the old man came to church no more. The pastor went looking for him, and eventually found him in the hospital. He learned that the old man was alone, with no visitors. But, when he spoke of that to the old man, the old man told him he had it wrong. the old man had a visitor every day. That visitor would come in and sit at the foot of the old man’s bed… and he’d say:

"I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, JIM, HOW HAPPY I'VE BEEN, SINCE WE FOUND THIS FRIENDSHIP AND I TOOK AWAY YOUR SIN... I ALWAYS LOVE TO HEAR YOU PRAY, I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY. AND SO, JIM, THIS IS JESUS CHECKING IN, TODAY."

I read that message on Friday, and I realized something, and if you all remember nothing else from this poor sermon today, remember this:

When we pray… to God, it’s like all the water of the Amazon flowing up to water one little daisy.

How can ya say no?

How can I say no to a friend?

I've been tagged by my Fellow Traveller.

So, now to the matter at hand. 6 Random Things About Myself.

Uh.... Hmmmmm..... six, huh?

1. I'm happily married to the man of my dreams... whom I met in an AOL chat room while living 1100 miles away from him! We've been together 11 years (from our first date) as of next week.

2. I once (24 years ago) married one of those "other" types of people... I think they're called women. Ew. Actually, she was sweet, if a bit on the frigid side (I had to move to Antarctica to warm up!)

3. I come from a totally normal family; you know the type... the Cleavers? Though, I was nothing like Beaver. And my brothers weren't much like Wally, either. Now that I think about it, we weren't very much like them at all, except, well, we were pretty boring... unless you call a motorcycle gang brother who played in a rock band exciting.

(You know, this would be a lot easier if I wasn't trying to keep it to at least a PG rating. Sigh)

4. When I was 3, I tried to help Mom by going out to get the milk (back in the days when milk was still delivered to the door... in glass bottles.) I was in my underpants and barefoot. I dropped the milk and walked through the glass... you can guess the hours spent at the ER waiting to get the glass pulled out and stitches.

5. When I was 16, I played leapfrog with our cat... a game I'd played with Sam for years. He'd be asleep all snug and cuddly on the chair, and I'd run and jump on the chair just missing him then over the back of the chair. Scared the poor kitty half to death! Well, sometime between the last time I played this game, and this particular time, I must have grown another inch or two... cause I hit my head on the ceiling and cracked it nicely open! My hot neighbor boy who was spending the night with me (I think we called him Reiny... his name was Reinhold! And yes, he was at my house because I was trying to get into his pants... and had almost succeeded before I pulled THIS stunt. So there goes my PG rating.) ran next door and got the neighbors older brother (long story, there) who was up visiting from Mexico and was another HOT adorable Mexican and a doctor to boot... oh I swoon just thinking about those two hot, hot, hot young men leaning over me.... Anyhow, another ER visit, more stitches...

(Hmm... detouring from my PG rating was fun, maybe I should take it all the way to XXX? Okay!)

6. When I was 24, and not so happily married to that "other" type... I was at the mall, went into one of those clothing stores that sell primarily to young guys, and .... no, can't do this one... Definitely not PG.

6.1 One year, (I was about 26), I house sat for a cousin who owned a "farm" out in the country... okay wasn't much of a farm, was more of a horse ranch... only ranch isn't quite the word either... she bred Arabians. And she had this magnificent, glorious home she and her husband had built... and it was set into the side of the hill, so that you could walk around to the back and step up on to the roof. And did I mention it was out in the country? And that it was way secluded from people and the road??? So, there I was taking care of the house.... Did I mention that I'm not very good with "horse chores"? So anyhow, I was house sitting.... and it was a glorious late spring day, in the upper 80s... nice breeze; so I stripped off my clothes and just kinda hung... uh, yeah.. hung around the yard, and finally went around back and laid on the roof to get a good tan. Problem was, when you're on the roof of her house, you can't hear cars in the driveway... so there I was, lying on the roof getting my tan in my "altogetherness". And all of a sudden I hear a step on the roof. I open my eyes... and there's the 19 year old boy my cousin had hired to feed the horses.... He's looking at me... he's smiling... (Did I mention he was gorgeous? and that he had one thing in common with my cousin's stallion? and that he seldom wore a shirt?) the rest takes us beyond the PG... okay, I passed that a LONG way back... but to go further would even exceed R. Ahh... the memories....

Next?

Jer, how 'bout's I tag YOU back??? Came across this here:

I say ... and you think ... ?

1. Ambition::
2. Meatloaf::
3. Celebrity::
4. Coach::
5. Slacker::
6. Reflection::
7. Original::
8. Risk::
9. Saved::
10. June::

Your Power Color Is Teal

At Your Highest: You feel accomplished and optimistic about the future. At Your Lowest: You feel in a slump and lack creativity. In Love: You tend to be many people's ideal partner. How You're Attractive: You make people feel confident and accepted. Your Eternal Question: "What Impression Am I Giving?"

What's" Your Power Color?

Animal Tales

It's been so long since I actively wrote here that I find it difficult to decide what to write about. In fact, I’m not sure but what that hasn’t been the problem for some time… writer’s block. If so, it’s sure a long streak of blockage! My tagline for this blog reads “…This is just a place for thoughts about... well, whatever I might think about. God, work, life, boredom. Dogs. Cats. Whatever.” And yet, to comprehend this block of mine is to almost say “I’m not having any thoughts.”

I have a dog. I have a cat. But what should I write about them? There’s not much to say. They’re not particularly into any interesting antics. Unless Pepsi (that’s the cat) suddenly becoming extremely affectionate of late counts. It doesn’t matter what I am doing. I might be eating dinner, or working on the laptop or reading the paper, even… he’ll just walk into the room spy me sitting there, and hop up in my lap, crawl up on to my chest, dig in his claws for dear life, and lay down. Then he’ll proceed to purr loudly, rubbing the top of his head against my cheek. Did I mention the claws? But his presence has an effect… soon, I drift off to sleep and we, uh, catnap together!

Then there’s Nikki. She is the dog. The apple of my eye, now that Travis is gone. She loves Scott. She adores me. When we come in at night from a hard day at work, she stands up on her hind paws as high as she can and peers at us until we open the gate and let her in to the living room with us. Then she dances around, still on her hind paws. She goes to Scott for a greeting, then glues herself to me… follows me into the den where I put down my coat… then into the bathroom where I take care of some of the coffee that’s pressing on my bladder… then back into the living room. I take her outside, she runs… does her business, then back to my side. The only thing that draws her away from me is the sound of Scott rattling plates in the kitchen. She has this doggy sense that tells her precisely when it is time to run into the kitchen to get her piece of raw meat. Then back to my side.

I sit down on the sofa while Scott cooks, and Nikki curls up in the seat next to me… as close as she can get. Sometimes, it’s not close enough and she rolls herself over into my lap. If I shift positions just wrong, lean a little forward, she flies off the sofa and looks back at me as if to say “Where’re we going, huh, dad?”

When dinner is served, she curls up and watches every move, knowing the plate will be hers to clean soon enough. And that’s her life… gluing herself to me, and when I’m unavailable, to Scott. Or, she’ll go over and lie next to Scott turning so she can keep her eyes on me… I swear, she sleeps with BOTH eyes open just to keep tabs on my every movement.

And that pretty much describes everything there is to say about DOGS and CATS. Ever. Or, at least until we get the next one of either. We used to have 3 dogs and 3 cats. Now we’re down to 2 of each, but 1 of each belongs to Gary and neither spend too much time with us… in fact both avoid us if they can… and that’s just fine by me!

Oh, and does anyone know a dachshund breeder here in the middle of the country? I promised my Scott I’d get him a pup soon… I think it’s time to honor that promise. And then, I suspect, there’ll be LOTS of dog stories for me to tell!

Long Past Due

Well, it's been a LONG time since I posted here last. It's been nearly 3 months, and they've been incredibly eventful... though from this post it may not seem to be. Busy, mostly.

After my trip to New Jersey, I was immersed in my work... far too immersed. My associate's ("Tom's") departure in mid-November tripled my work load, and much of these past months has been spent trying to figure out just what it was he did... not that he didn't do a lot, but he did so much, and left most of it undocumented.

We hired a consultant in December to assist me in the process of getting caught up to date with all the work, and to help me troubleshoot issues that arose with Tom's processes and databases.

At the same time, as the Christmas season progressed, I helped produce, direct and perform in a reader's theater presentation at church that took most of my spare time.

Then, during the first week of January, our company announced our future. We acquired or merged with a competitor this month, and some employees were not going to be continued in their positions as a result.

In the cheery words of my manager "there is no position for you in our end state." This means that I move from the database management team to the Integration Team for a period of 12 - 18 months, after which I will no longer have a job with my company... the company I've worked for these past 10 years. Que sera, I guess.

I was pretty devastated by that news... in spite of actually kind of hoping for it... the dream and the reality are often two different things, eh? It's taken most of January to return to some sort of equilibrium.

Of course, I don't have to stick around for a year. But they're dangling an awfully tasty carrot in front of me to keep me going, so unless something tremendous comes along, I'll stick it out.

But it's not all been hard work and stress... my honey and I have just returned from a 6 night cruise from Galveston, TX, to Cozumel, Belize City and Costa Maya. I kind of don't want to go back to work tomorrow!

We got back last Thursday night. The first news from our roommate was that the upstairs toilet had sprung a leak. Friday, when we pulled the stool out, we discovered the leak has apparently been ongoing for years, as the hardwood floor under it is mostly rotted away by the moisture. We replaced the wax ring, but that wasn't the problem... the problem is the gasket between the tank and the bowl, and naturally THAT has to be special ordered, so we'll be without a toilet for 2 weeks. That leaves 1 for 3 men. Ick.

Then, while we were out of the house on Friday, one of our roommate's "friends" entered my office and stole our digital camera. Thankfully I'd already downloaded all our cruise pictures.

And THEN, Saturday morning at 3:30 a.m. we got called by the church's security company. We got to the church to discover the place surrounded by cops, the fire dept, and a K9 unit. Seems a homeless guy broke through a window, then proceeded to cook himself up over 5 whole chickens over the open fire of the stove!

And that brings us up to date on my life as of today. I'm going to TRY to get back to writing more here. But, no promises!

Why New Jersey?

God only knows. It's not a place I'd visit on my own.

However, our corporation has offices here. And in those offices works a man with a certain set of skill sets working on a particular range of environments. I need to learn those skill sets, as said man has decided to resign, having been made an offer "he couldn't refuse."

And so I will spend two weeks here.

Now, next week will be more fun, as Scott will be joining me. We'll do a bit of site-seeing at night, seeing NYC.

Maybe take in a show. If we can find one that interests us.

East Coast Musings

Well, I've arrived in New Jersey. I'm warmly ensconced in my riverside hotel in Jersey City. As I gaze out the window, to my left if I could crane my neck out that way, I'd see the Manhatten skyline. I look east, out over the river, and towards the ocean. There, just a little to the right is "The Statue". That emblem of freedom, of hope, of relief. The Statue of Liberty.

At least this is what I saw earlier today, when it was still light out. It's only 5:23 eastern time, and already the sun has set. I look out to the east and see a suspension bridge, it's suspension cables outlined in green lights. Directly in the center between the two suspension towers and up is a crescent moon, it's reflected light playing out, dancing on the waves on the river. It's a lovely sight. But my mind still sees that statue, knowing that black spot just.over.there is where it stands.

This is the first time I've laid eyes on it. It is, for me, a poignant sight. It moves my soul. I think of the youthful vitality of a nascient nation that received it from across the ocean. I think of the countless (by me, anyway) immigrants to our shores seeing it for their very first time. Seeing it as their ship chugs towards it's berth.

I think of the joy they felt, the sorrow at leaving their homeland, mixed with joy at arriving in their new life. I think of the relief many felt knowing that now.they.were.free. They were arriving in the most free country on earth.

I think of the optimism of the words inscribed upon it.

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door

In the century after this "new colossus" was erected, this young vibrant country, empowered by thosing huddled teeming masses who struggled to reach these shores, became arguably the most mighty superpower this planet has ever seen.

This view out my window is, however, a poignant and bittersweet view for me. For the promise of those words now rings hollow. The freedom of which the statue speaks seems fleeting, ephemeral now. Oh, I think the promise is still there, can still be found.

But, with all apologies to my reader...s... this nation has the wherewithal and fortitude to lead the world in all areas in those things democratic and free. But we have surrendered the moral highground that we once, presumably, held.

Our current president, and unlike many I don't think he's an idiot, just merely an evil, evil man; this president works tirelessly to deprive the citizens of this country of their birthright of freedom. For him, freedom is grand... for the rich. And we have no one to blame. WE elected him. (Okay, not me, I voted against my better judgement for Kerry.) We have only ourselves to blame.

I look out, now, upon that statue; I think of it's promise to a country newly born. And it saddens me that merely 125 years or so after it's construction, this is a country already on it's descendence.

And that saddens me terribly.

Okay, I'll bite: Friday's Feast

Appetizer
What was the last game you purchased?

Uh, don't remember. One of the "Call of Duty" games.

Soup
Name something in which you don't believe.

I don't believe that God visits disaster on humanity for any reason.

Salad
If you could choose a television personality to be your boss, who would you pick?

Ty Pennington. He's easy on the eyes, and a nutcase... oh, and did I mention he's easy on the eyes? How's that for shallow?

Main Course
What was a lesson you had to learn the hard way?

That integrity is priceless.... once lost it is virtually impossible to regain, though it can be with years of hard work.

Dessert
Describe your idea of the perfect relaxation room.

Okay, this one is easy. It would be a room in a cabin, located high on a hill overlooking a hugely panoramic vista with a huge window. Quiet music, low light, and a raging fire in the fireplace. A nice cozy armchair, and a wall full of books.

The Intelligence of Dogs

This post is inspired by another blog I read this morning.

Dogs are smart. Most of us think otherwise; we see them do some incredibly dumb things. But in those things driven by instinct or by breeding, they can be quite intelligent... in their own doggy way.

In 1999, Scott and I became dads to two White German Shepherd Dogs. They were so cute at 8 weeks old... big bundles of soft, snow white fur with black little eyes and black little noses. We adored those two, and I suspect we'll never quite feel that strongly for any other pups. That we lost both of them at very early ages was crushing to us. We named them Savannah and Travis.

It was about the time they were 8 or 9 months old that we caught on to the sharpness of their instinctive intelligence. Scott and I were out, and Pam, our friend with whom we shared our home, was home alone. Pam was a pretty tough, feisty little lady. Only 4 feet tall, she'd have ripped the gonads off of anyone who messed with her, and fed them to the offender had she been so inclined. But, no matter how tough one is, it's always nice to have a little added protection!

So, it was late evening, a dark night. Pam had the windows open, and the lights in the main room were out. Savannah was at her post, lying beside Pam facing out into the main room. Travis was at his post, across the room facing the door, also lying down. Suddenly, Savannah's ears perked up and she raised her head, sniffing at the air. Travis, who always lay in such a fashion as to see the front door and at the same time keep Savannah in his line of vision, took his cue from Savannah's heightened state of alert and rose to his feet, hunched down, hackles up, ears back.

Pam related later that night when we got home that Travis began silently roaming the perimeter of the room, stopping periodically at the open window. The windows in that old room were level with Travis' head on the inside, and just about head height to a man or woman on the outside.

So, anyhow, Travis began making the rounds of the room, stopping at all the doors to listen and peer into the darkened room beyond, then moving on, coming to a stop at the open window. Here, he would hunch down so his head was below the sill level, and lift his nose to sniff. Then he'd do the circuit again.

After a few circuits he moved in beside Savannah, lowered to his belly and took the same stance as her... but she would rise, hackles up, ears back and start the rounds, repeating what Travis had just finished.

Pam related that this happened for about 10 minutes, every now and then the one guarding Pam would emit a very low rumble, barely audible to Pam, though obviously quite audible to the other.

When about 10 minutes had passed, both dogs dropped to their bellies and began edging towards the open window. By now, Pam had reached for her phone. The two dogs moved to inches from the window, lying on their stomachs with their ears and noses alert. By now Pam could hear the gravel of the driveway crunching under someones steps.

Now, I can only imagine how this transpired. I see myself sneaking up on an open window. It's dark inside. I get to the window, put my hands up on the sill and pull myself up to peer inside. Before I can even focus my eyes, two white ghostlike and HUGE dogs appear in front of me, all teeth, and growls and barks.

Pam said she heard the man emit a high squeal, and then heard nothing but the sound of running footsteps retreating into the night.

Pam swore to me the two dogs looked at each other with grins on their faces then went and returned to their posts. Savannah by Pam, facing out into the main room; Travis at his post, across the room facing the door, also lying down.

2 years later, just days before we lost Savannah, I saw very similar behavior at our new home. The story is too similar to relate, but both took turns guarding and patrolling, before sneaking up and scaring the crap out of a prowler, so I know what Pam said is true.

Addendum

Okay, there's not much I detest more than SPAM. I'm sick of spam.

I can either disable commenting on my blog, which would make me very unhappy... because I always love seeing all those comments. ahem, yes, well, anyway, I don't want to do that.

So, dearies, I've enable word verification. Please tolerate it!

At last! We're finished! or ARE we??

Okay, so you know I've been involved for the past month moving my parents out of their house into an Assisted Living environment.

Dad really wanted a two bedroom place, but one wasn't available until next year, so he settled on a 1 bedroom.

It's been a busy month arranging for the moving (we did it ourselves) clearing out the old house (all 2 years old) selling the house. Monday night we moved the last box out, and declared "Yeah! We're done! Now we can get back to the projects at our own house."

So, today we went to lunch with the folks. As we were leaving, one of the business managers met us in the hall..."Could you stay, please? I have some news for your parents."

We went back in to the apartment. "I have some news!" declares the lady, "A 2 bedroom place just became available!"

And so it ends... and begins again in one brief moment. Sigh. Fortunately, this move should take all of 6 hours, and that's if we go slow.

Anyone care to help????

Finally!

At last. We've got Mom & Dad moved out of their house. Scott and I moved the last box last night. The house is empty. The hustle/bustle, can't do anything, no life process of getting them out is done. I sigh a deep sigh of relief... and look forward to the next challenge facing us.

The sale closes Thursday. Alas, Dad apparently moved out of the house, into the new facility, and walked away completely from the sale process. I find out yesterday that there is a ton of things he's dropped. So now I get to deal with that... but this too shall pass, and it's not as stressful as the move was.

Of course, during the process I have acquired a ton of stuff... some antiques, some things that just have special meaning to me, memories of life long ago... a time when I was the child, and THEY were the parents. Now it all seems, somehow, reversed.

We have no room for these new "things". Our dining room has been, for over a year, filled with stuff that had no home anywhere else. Much of it was slated for our Garage (or Yard) Sale... the one we are going to have in 3 months... the same one that we've BEEN going to have in 3 months for the past 3 years! Last night, I could barely open the doors to walk in to the room to put in... just... one... more... thing. I half expected to hear a big "BOOOF!" as I closed the door... the sound of the room exploding it's contents out into the street.

But I learned something in this move. I can do better financially from DONATING this stuff to the Goodwill, or the Salvation Army, or some such. So THAT is the next mission. Clear out the dining room, get rid of the, uh, well, CRAP that is stored in there and move in the new from Mom & Dad. I'm looking forward to being able to set a dining room table for Christmas (I have no hope of accomplishing this by (USA) Thanksgiving Day.

So, life is good. Always!

O! Canada!

To my Friends in the Great nation to our north:

Happy Thanksgiving Day!

God Bless!

Revelling

Celebrate God all day, every day. I mean, revel in
God! (Philippians 4:4a)

Some of you are aware that I'm going through a rough
time these days with my job and with my parents. The
combination of the two has left me feeling overly
vulnerable, emotional, and quite overwhelmed.

Today, I reread the above verse from this coming
Sunday's NT reading. I looked up the word revel. I
mean, I know what it means contextually, I use the
word, but I wondered just what does it mean to revel
in God? Party Hearty in God? Well, yes, I suppose
that, too.

But if I plug the Mirriam Webster definition into that
verse it reads:

Celebrate God all day, every day. I mean, take intense
pleasure or satisfaction in God!

Isn't that a great concept?! All day, every day, take
intense pleasure and satisfaction in God!

What a great way to embrace the day... what a great
way to put the worries and the stress and the
pressures of hard jobs, illness, death, or problematic
homelifes to the side, to turn them over to the God
who is so present that we can take intense pleasure
and satisfaction in that Presence!

For me, to take that degree of pleasure and
satisfaction in God, I see myself enraptured, standing
emotionally naked before my Creator, bathed in the
warm... hot even... light of God's enduring love, a
love so powerful, a love so intense, nothing, NOTHING,
can overcome it. A love so powerful that not even the
grave or death itself could even put a damper on it.

Wow, God! Thank you!

Review

What a week! It's been a pretty hard one here.

About a month ago, my parents put their house on the market, and made arrangements to move into a retirement community. Last week, my sister-in-law M arrived in town to help them prepare for the move.

Saturday, Scott and I spent the day helping with preparations, planning to do more on Sunday. But Sunday before we could get to the house, M called to inform me that she'd talked with the folks and Dad was going to go to the ER. He wouldn't tell her which one. There are 3 major choices.

We spent 30 minutes tracking him down, then rushed to join him. We lost the entire day as we waited at the hospital. It was hard on Dad, and by the time we left, he was exhausted.

Monday was the big day. Scott and I arrived at the house with the truck from U-Haul and by 5 p.m. had moved all the big items they'll need in their new apartment.

Tuesday Dad was still weak and tired, but tried valiantly to help with the ongoing preparations. That night we all decided to take the night off.

Wednesday night, we moved more stuff. Dad was even more exhausted, Mom is of little help due to the Alzheimers. We spent part of the day at the doctors with Mom, as she has stopped eating, hasn't had a real meal in over a month, and M felt we needed to go back to the Dr to see what more could be done. We were told that very likely we should prepare for the end, that it was likely that mom's brain was shutting down her digestive system. Mom is still enough "with it" that she could adamently declare that we were not to feed her intraveinously.

Thursday M and the folks were back at the house... suddenly dad just announced he couldn't do any more and sat down... M told me he was sweating heavily. He decided to go to the doctor but steadfastly refused to allow M to accompany him. He finally relented to allowing Mom to go with him. M called me, and I rushed over to the dr office.

Dad was admitted to hospital, but the preliminary diagnosis was not good.

M spent the night at the apartment with Mom and Friday we all met back at the hospital... Mom had an appointment for a CT Scan to see if there was a physical problem preventing her from eating.

By the time we got up to Dad's room, they'd conducted a load of tests, and were preparing to release him. ALL of the dire diagnosis of Thursday were wrong. He wasn't bleeding internally... his heart was NOT giving out, indeed, his heart was far healthier than the average 80 year old!

Dad is dehydrated (they rehydrated him intraveinously) and exhausted from over-exertion. He's taking the weekend off, and Scott and I will take on the daunting task of working at their old house.

And Mom announced on arriving home at the new apartment that she was STARVING! She ate 2 cups of pop corn, the most nutritious thing she's eaten in weeks. And she was looking forward to having grilled salmon in the dining room.

So, it seems to have worked out... but the stress and anxiety of the week left me drained. I know I need to be strong for them. But its very hard to watch my parents decline like this. We've been blessed with a close lovin relationship, and I hate how the cards have turned.

And that dear reader(s) is my week.

Friday's Feast

Well, some time ago, I promised myself I'd never give in to the "meme" or "tag" game... but it's been so long since I wrote, I decided to give it a shot. So, here goes.

Appetizer
Do your closer friends tend to be male or female? Why do you think that is?

Gender only matters to me in bed. I look at the personality to determine who my friends are. That said, my closest circle of friends at this time are both male AND female, but with a slightly higher number of women.

Soup
If you could wake up tomorrow with a new talent, what would it be?

Time management skills. Mine totally suck.

Salad
Name a household cleaning item that you would recommend to others.

Simple Green. I like the smell, it kills bacteria, and cleans well.

Main Course
What do you strive for in life?

Socratic virtue: Balance. That and fantasical wealth... I'm thinking $150 million will probably be sufficient.

Dessert
On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being highest, how funny do you consider yourself?

Maybe a 6... but I'm factoring in that I find myself a hell of a lot funnier than others do. I'm usually the only one who laughs at my jokes. That said, I heard a joke last night that everyone else laughed at, and I'm still trying to get it. "Two nuns are sitting in a bar. One turns to the other and says 'I wonder where the soap is?'. The other replies 'That's for sure!'". Is it just me? I don't get it! That's funny?

Update on the Walking

Wow! I just had a fascinating experience on my walk this morning.

About a block before I got to where "my" deer normally grazes, and where we commune each morning, I happened to be looking towards a vacant lot. My eyes spied movement.

At least 7 deer had heard me walking and were running off towards the wooded hills. Then, I heard a clatter, and saw on the street ahead of me an eighth deer running off towards my left. I took a moment to watch these graceful animals, then started my walk again.

Almost immediately I sensed movement off in the direction the larger herd had dashed. Looking over, I saw a deer in full run, heading straight for me!

I stopped to watch, unsure what was going to happen. "You can't be serious," I thought "Surely this deer isn't going to attack me, is it?"

Six yards from me, right at the roads edge, the deer brought itself to a stop, then turned partially.

It was a young deer, a fawn, it's spots still clearly visible in the dawns light. He looked right at me. We stood, less than 20 feet apart gazing at each other. I looked behind him, and there, in the trees I saw the rest of the herd watching intently.

We stood there, virtually toe to toe (hoof?) for several minutes, then he nonchalantly turned and walked away.

I was totally humbled by this. Thank you, God.

What's the buzz... tell me what's happening!

My church has been abuzz, of late, about "The Homeless Problem". Many don't want them hanging around our property. We feed them on Sunday mornings, and to many in our congregation that's too much. Let's keep them away the rest of the week! They scare us.

I'm committed to helping our homeless. I am a staunch supporter of our Sunday Breakfast Ministry. I prepare meals, at my own expense for up to 60 one Sunday each month. I've done it two Sundays a month when the need was present. I feel strongly about the rightness of this ministry, at almost all cost to all other ministry in our church. I feel so strongly about it that if the congregation ever decides to terminate the ministry, I may have to leave the congregation.

Why? Frankly, the homeless scare me, a little, too. I'm relatively shy, an introvert, I don't talk easily with folks I don't know and can't relate to well. My ministry to these folks is two-fold. I cook their breakfast one Sunday a month. And I stand in the food line serving them and doing what comes natural to me... I pay them respect. Each scoop of eggs or ham or bacon or whatever comes with a "Good Morning, Sir! Thank you for joining us today!" Or, "Good Morning, Ma'am! It's a pleasure to see you!" They're human beings, and they deserve common courtesy as much as the VP of my division at work. PErhaps more.

Why am I so devoted to this ministry? Perhaps it's because I come more and more to embrace the words of Peter:

9But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people,£ in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. 10 Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.

I remember my bishop (RCC) referring to gays as "faggots". I recall the numerous condemnations of me as a gay person put out by the Vatican. I hear the sneering attacks on my humanity by major, national evangelists... you know the ones. I have seen people turned away at churches, told they are not welcome, not wanted, unloved. I have seen those who have been graced by a gracious God, turn away those they disapprove of, in acts of utter UNgraciousness and even cruelty.

Once I wasn't anything. But then I discovered that not only am I something very important, someONE very important, but I learned to accept that my God made me who I am, and I am Chosen, a royal priesthood, once I didn't matter, but now I realize I AM part of a people, still scorned by the churches, I've received mercy at my loving Parent's hand. I AM somebody.

How foolish, then, and how ungrateful, could I be as to turn away ANY of God's people because they don't conform to societal norms. Because, for whatever reason, they have found themselves destitute and bereft?

So, no, I don't think we have a homeless problem at my church. We have, in our pastor's words "a homeless situation"... more to the point, perhaps, we have a homeless opportunity.

An opportunity to share the love that has been given us unconditionally by our Parent with others who need that love just as much as we do - maybe, no PROBABLY, more than we do.