Playing Catch-Up

 I intended to write an end of year post. I didn't because it was Skamper's Last Day. He joined the gang in Aslan's County New Year's Eve. Those wing markings in his fur, I'm certain, are more than markings now. He flies in the Light. 

Skuttle followed her brother March 18. Lung cancer. That silly little rock never made a peep about it until she started coughing about two weeks before the end. Saying au revoir was really hard. I'd never prepared to lose her. She seemed likely to live forever. She's with Simon, now. My main hope is that they wait for me to join them. If my theory that we all arrive in Heaven at the same time is true, I'm already there running further up and further in. 

My two oldest friends have moved on to their next lives. I'm trying to do the same down here. 

With only Clover and Blackberry in the house, I'm once again hoping we can reconcile, but I'm settling for détente. The girls rotate every 24 hours so that each gets to spend time in the entire house every day and gets to be with me in different settings. They've done remarkably well with the transition after 10 days. Building the predator part of a cat helps relax the prey fears, according to Jackson Galaxy, and increase confidence in new situations. That's my goal with all wards, now. Build confidence. 

I started drinking coffee. Light roast. And brewed cacao from a company called Crio Brue. It's bitter but I realized it's supposed to be bitter. That's what makes it good for me. A lot of terrible things are good for me. 

I'm attending a Lutheran church. I find the liturgical aspects soothing, and it's small enough that I can learn people's names and hopefully find a useful place that binds me to the community. It's funny how much I want community yet shy away from it when offered. Not my best feature. 

In keeping with Life After Menopause Philosophy, I joined a gym. I've gone twice a week since January and my top arm weight is 15 lbs, up from 5. My goal is to improve my ability to garden well. I practice squats, dead lifts, bicep and tricep moves with free weights. I found a machine that lets me do inverse squats (?) to help with leg strength for digging. It's working. I've gone from 90 minutes a weekend in The Swamp to 8 or more hours per weekend. 

I am planting a food forest. Anne of All Trades inspired me in fighting bermuda. Took her 5 years but she eradicated it from her Tennessee zone 6 garden, so I believe it is possible. I have nothing better to do. 

I haven't written since 2017. I'm not sure I will ever write again. Maybe. Maybe this is another kind of start. I have those 47 years to fill. 

Keep the faith. 

The Struggle

 The menopause journey continues its ups and downs. Mood swings, hot flashes, night sweats, worse insomnia, racing heart, frozen shoulder - left side, naturally - and belly fat that doubled overnight and remains. I've embraced the reality of exercise and lifting heavy shit - quoth Stacy Sims - although I don't have a lot of endurance unless I'm working in the Swamp. 

Exercise does improve my next day, even if it doesn't always lift my mood the same day. Earlier this month, I discovered eating processed sugar, like Halloween candy, gives me a terrible headache within 5 minutes. This is good news. I've not been able to shake that kind of sugar by willpower alone. The headaches don't respond to ibuprofen. I don't want them, so I appear to be done with candy. 

I'm experimenting with supplements to combat all these symptoms. I'm no longer afraid of HRT, but I don't think I can afford it. Even vaginal estrogen is like $500 every 90 days. The medical industrial complex wants unhealthy women. They're easier to exploit. 

I have many days where I'm fine. Earlier this week, I took a vacation day and spent 8 hours in the Swamp planting, transplanting, mulching, raking, pruning and chipping. I felt completely fine the next day. No new aches. 

It rained for the first time in a month yesterday - which is why I took that lovely weather day off to plant. The rain has stopped for the moment so I went outside to get my exercise in. 

I'm exhausted after an hour. Maybe two. I have no energy. No desire to move bricks or rake leaves or prepare the newest pile of stuff to be chipped next weekend. I know the feeling will pass. I have come a long way in my depression journey and I now have lots of coping mechanisms for dealing with this, not least of which is knowing that much of it comes from menopause and the removal of estrogen from my body. 

I just wish my body wasn't part of the problems in my life. I wish the Swamp looked like I'd done something to it for 10 hours this week. I wish a load of mulch would arrive tomorrow and give me some heavy shit to lift. 

Blessed are you Eternal Spirit who has given us life, sustained us and allowed us to arrive at this moment. 

What Am I Missing?

 My entire adult life has resulted from an extreme lack of purpose. I have no idea what I want to do, or what I'm meant to do, or what I should be doing in the meantime. I have bursts of interest that last about two weeks and peeter out. I can mimic just about any skill the first time I try it, but I am never able to replicate it. 

So I should have a vlog like Dirty Jobs for crafters? Sounds exhausting. 

Every day I fail to live up to my potential. I am over-qualified for life, yet I have no passion for anything, not even killing myself to get off this hamster wheel. 

The generic "glorify God" does not inspire me. "Random acts of kindness" do not help me sleep through the night. I haven't felt the urge to resolve anything in 22 years. 

I just keep wishing it was over. Or that I could find something to do that made me feel like I was doing something worth doing for the last 47 years of my life. But nothing presents itself and I continue to wake up earlier and earlier (before 2 AM this morning) dissatisfied with everything, myself most of all. I don't even get eight hours of unconsciousness to break the tedium that is my thought process. 

The night sweats are returning. The Provitalize probiotic may not be the reason I had a good three weeks. That could have been some leftover estrogen squeezed out of my dying ovaries. 

HRT is definitely on the table. I've spent the last ten years fighting hormones in peri-menopause. I can't spend the next thirty fighting all the things that come from no hormones. 

I do wish it was over. I hate the way my life is now. I hate what's coming. I hate how completely I've failed to do anything useful with the past 50 years. I hate how one year after determining to make changes I still have no good plans for how to spend the next 50 years. I hate how resigned I am to living badly and alone. I wish I could sleep. 

I hope someone out there is happy. Someone other than Satan, anyway. 

Keep the faith. 

I Can't Pray for That

 I recently heard an interview that resonated with me with Joe Dispenza on Diary of a CEO podcast. Since my recovery journey began Dec 16, 2019 and re-energized in 2023, I've focused on positive thinking instead of negative thinking. Daily gratitude. Recognizing and redirecting dark thoughts. Using my mind to help the situation instead of making it worse. 

I've enjoyed some success. Most of the time, I'm enjoying the moments. Part of it is because I punish bad thinking with exercise. Quite effective. 

I bought Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself because that's exactly what I've been trying to do for five years. The first chapter is about quantum physics. Random number theory: I just read In My Time of Dying by Sebastian Junger where he talks about quantum physics as a possible explanation for seeing his dead father while he was near death himself. 

So far, the chapter for me has more in common with the New Testament than science. Renewing the mind. The power of prayer. Transformation on a subatomic level. Substitutionary restitution (I'm getting that wrong, but menopause brain won't give me the correct phrase). 

One sentence: How many times have you tried to create something, thinking in your mind the end result was possible but feeling in your heart it wasn't? 

That's my prayer life for a while now. I know all things are possible, but I feel that some things are not good, even if they seem good in the short term. Maybe this is spiritual maturity. Maybe it's cowardice. Maybe it's lack of faith. 

I no longer know what is good and what isn't result-wise. That - I think - is wisdom. I know when I want to complain, I should not complain because I don't know what's coming. 

Dispenza may be full of it (some online detractors certainly think so) but he's making a lot of sense in chapter one. We'll see how it goes. 

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who mercifully restores my soul within me. Great is Your faithfulness. 

A Moment In Time

 I planned on writing a number of things, and I may still, but I paused and read some of the things I wrote 9 months ago. That was good. I'm trying to stay away from good and bad as descriptors. I ascribe too much meaning to them. I'm no longer entirely convinced life has any meaning at all except what I give it. 

2024 has been an up and down year. 

On the up side, I've stopped wishing for death every day. Many days I haven't thought about dying at all. I no longer think of Dad every day. When I start to think dark thoughts, I exercise. In fact, I've learned some kind of exercise - walking, weight-lifting, jumping up and down 40 times in a row - may not help in the moment, but absolutely helps my mood the next day. 

I've learned about perimenopause and menopause, and that the vast majority of my physical and mental issues in the last 10 years can be directly tied to that time of chaos, including depression, anxiety, vertigo, heart palpitations, joint pain, brain fog, and bipolar mimicry. Frozen shoulder was the final tip-off, followed quickly by night sweats that disturb my sleep every 1 out of 5 nights. Thanks to Dr. Peter Attia, Dr. Mary Claire Haver and the Menoposse, to name a few, I'm more intent than ever on improving my physical fitness and nutrition. There is a real chance I will also begin HRT, since most of what we "know" about that topic is bogus. 

On the down side, I am unable to find a social outlet. I've given up on church. The art class was a bust. I have one active friend who no longer lives near me. I am increasingly on the outs with my family. And even my newest cats, Clover and Blackberry, who lived together in peace for 6 years until they moved in with me, have now tried to kill each other for the last 9 months. My open house is divided into two portions with a demilitarized zone and seems likely to remain that way for the next 12 years or so. 

This cat failure, as always, will be my ultimate undoing. It is the final proof that I have no appreciable skills and no authority to speak on any topic ever again except my own fallibility. 

This is for the best. I have no one to talk to anyway. Skamper is finally really dying of cancer and Skuttle's dementia is progressing nicely. 

None of these things matter. This is a moment in time, and change is constant. I can't make cats get along. I can't make humans like me. I can't make my body stop attacking me. I can't make a loaf of simple sourdough bread. I can't even waste my days in bed because I can't sleep and lying down hurts my back. 

This has been a down week. At some point, it will shift back into up. Until then, I will focus on gratitude and exercise. 

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, who mercifully restores my soul within me. Great is Your faithfulness. 

One of Those Days

 I started redefining "days" years ago. What makes a good day good? What makes a bad day bad? If a two-minute phone call (with a mean person) can ruin a day, then can't a perfect cup of tea redeem it? How many in-a-rows of stuff does it take to really meet the good-bad qualifier? 

Today had one of those two-minute moments. A moment that can wreck if I let it, or just be a moment that informs and redirects. I'm not sure which way it's going. 

I was fine earlier. As the day progresses, my heart has started racing. This could be hormones. Could be weather. Could be worry. I'm worried it's worry. 

Satan knows when to attack. He's immortal. He's got literally nothing better to do with his time than wait for me to feel weak and exploit it. He finds my frailty hilarious. He has every advantage. He is lord of this world. God gave him that after the Fall. Every physical part of me is under his control, if God allows it. 

I'm in that pre-exhausted moment when I look ahead and see the work to be done and I just can't. I don't want to do it. Not again. 

I don't have to take all the steps. I only have to take the next step. Whatever that is. 

Five months ago, I felt exactly this way. I couldn't see a way out. I didn't think it would ever be OK. But it was. It can be again. One day at a time. One step at a time. We can do this. We can keep swimming. God is here. 

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who mercifully restores my soul within me. Great is Your faithfulness. 

Expansion

 Logged in this morning and discovered yesterday's post saved as a draft so I missed my goal of 1 more post than the last big posting year. Thanks, life. You suck. 

When the Wolfriders met the Gliders, the two leaders have a powwow about worldviews. Cutter accuses Winnowill of letting her people feed on themselves. They've spend centuries inside the mountain, insulated from the real world, looking only inward for purpose. Little does he know she has retained her vitality in exactly the opposite way. 

My fear-response to loss is to insulate. Every major loss I've suffered in life has led to removing any chance of ever suffering that kind of loss again. Loss of my dad, loss of a potential marriage partner, loss of a rabbit, loss of a home. This makes for a small life, and, eventually, I began to feed on myself. I was starving without dying. 

Enter recovery. Going outside of self to empathize with another. To learn new coping skills. To do different uncomfortable or frightening things because that's what life is. Life is always uncomfortable or frightening. Some people thrive on that. Some people have to learn it the hard way. 

I was ready to give up cats. I've lost enough of them and the pain only gets worse. I think God told me no. I may be justifying my actions or misreading the situation, but I was quite serious when I told Him I was done. If I had to choose between Him and cats, I would choose Him and I'd try to be happy about it. And then He threw two more cats into my life. And I truly started learning about trust. 

Because I can't give up loss and still live. There is only loss ahead of me now unless I expand and seek out new challenges. Find new friends. Find ways to serve. Find skills to learn. Do something instead of waiting for it all to end. It may start with cats because God knows I will try harder to succeed with a cat than I ever would with a human. I hope, though, that I will continue to expand into humanity. Into a broader world with different experiences that I may hate, but will still provide meaning. That's my goal for 2024. 

Keep the faith.  

Goodbye, 2023. You Were...Hard

 I considered other adjectives but hard is probably the most accurate and the most neutral. I can't say I enjoyed 2023. I had moments - weeks, even - where I would say I felt happy. Where I succeeded in living in the Now of Wolf Thought. Looking at my journal and really adding them up, though...it was hard. 

I suffered the worst bout of anxiety I have yet experienced in the first months. Started by a cat, of course. That cost me a friendship, cost me two and a half cats, cost me my health, and cost me a slew of doctor bills while I ruled out heart issues. 

What it did not cost me was my God. This time, I did something different. Something I promised myself I would do the next time life got hard. I asked God to stay with me and thanked Him for bringing me through. No recriminations. No blame. No demands for the pain to stop. Just breathing in the seconds, accepting that life happens and doing my best to swim. 

I guess this was the year of acceptance. Accepting that Jesus isn't coming back anytime soon. Accepting that grief will not kill me. Accepting that living angry is a pit with no bottom. Accepting that life is not and never will be safe. 

The good news is that life eventually ends. I can't go back, but I don't want to. No matter how horrible a day is, when it's done, it's done. Forget it. Keep swimming. 

I also started saying yes this year, to the surprise of my family. If I cannot make life safe, I may as well take risks and do stuff as stay home and not do stuff. I'm equally tired at the end. I could always get lucky and die, but I don't believe I'll ever die. Not until I'm old and crippled and completely alone. In the meantime, risking a bit to help others is a good way to take my mind off my troubles. We'll see how far I can swim in those waters. 

Welcome, 2024. I'm glad you're coming. I'm glad I will be that much closer to eternity. 

Keep the faith. 

Good Things that Happened in 2023

 I could do this tomorrow, but I needed to do it yesterday so I'm posting it today. 

I reconnected with My Lamb over a beloved cat. I now pray for both of them and the Good Shepherd daily. I added The Flash and Maestro (?) as a bonus. 

I learned - at great expense - that my heart is healthy. I will list it as a good thing, although it is the reason I have accepted that I will live another 50 years. If losing Caleb didn't cause physical damage, I am indestructible. 

I read The Anxiety Opportunity. I spent the first 50 years mitigating loss but it can't be put off forever. I will need to keep working and trusting in Jesus at the same time my heart races and I can't catch my breath. This book is teaching me to do that. Good thing, too, because no med I've tried yet has worked. Except maybe the GABA. 

Home improvements. I had the money to do a little upkeep on Gethsemane. 

Dandelion returned to God. I don't know exactly what that means but I've made peace with it. I hope to see him again in eternity. God holds him until that happens. 

Clover joined the Turtle Household. It took far longer than I expected but it appears to have been worth it. She has helped heal the year's losses a bit.

I found seabands for nausea, which allowed me and my brothers to go sailing together for the first time in perhaps 40 years. Next time, I may even drink with them. 

I started listening to No Agenda, then Moe Factz, then Curry & the Keeper. Not only are they entertaining and informative podcasts, they indicate a reconnection with the world that I abandoned during covid. 

Yo estudio espanol otra vez. 

I starting taking small risks in the name of service. Living has to be more than work and cats. Not sure what more or how much more, but I'll keep trying. I have lots and lots of time. 

Keep the faith. 

Pinpricks

 I listened to Moe Factz with Adam Curry, episode 96 yesterday, titled IDK, about 33 ways to fight a war. One of the higher ways was to attack in tiny, annoying skirmishes instead of full-on frontal assault. I thought of Satan. 

Yeah, big things attack sometimes but it's the daily grind of minor irritations that derail me most effectively. The nibbling of ducks. The continually tired, sore eyes with their big-ass floaters - that's what my optometrist calls them. Constantly exhausted yet unable to sleep. Eternally waiting for the next vomit attack. Sudden bouts of nausea, anxiety and pain for no external reason because that's part of The Turtle biology for this season. All of this compounded by hormones that refuse to stop churning and seek verbal release.  

Giving in to the rage doesn't help. There's no catharsis in yelling. Rage fuels rage. But there's no controlling it, either. I am constitutionally incapable of pretending I'm OK when I'm not OK. 

This has been a week of pinpricks. Of chemical washes. Of plans made and scuppered. Nothing huge. Nothing that would normally cause a moment of concern. But changes are on the horizon at work and at home and all bumps are magnified into mountains that extend for eternity in all directions. 

I always think I've figured out how to deal with this situation until life shows up and laughs at me. Then I have a choice. Flounder and splash and waste time railing at what I can't change, or do what millions of lives before me have done: keep swimming. 

I thank God that He's already forgiven what I will do next. If He hadn't, I'd be dead instead of alive to keep sinning. I thank God that change is constant and this horrible mood will change, too. Eventually. Sometimes acknowledging it makes it better; sometimes it doesn't. 

I'm sorry for everything that has and will happen, Lord. Thank You for loving me anyway. 

Keep the faith. 

A Prayer Regarding Change

 Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who mercifully restores my soul within me. Great is Your faithfulness. 

Lord, You created change. You, the unchangeable being, made change as a gift to us. You give us the gift of growth, of learning, of adapting, of experiencing You in every iteration of our lives and experiences. 

It does not always feel like a gift. I like certainty. I like a sense of competence and familiarity. I don't like to be pushed or put out. I don't like the unknown. It sparks fear in my limbic system. Sometimes that fear is paralyzing. 

Be there for us in the uncertainty. Help us to trust You to walk with us, to walk us through whatever it is so we come out improved on the other side. We will emerge with a better understanding of Your grace and kindness and wisdom and mercy when we trust. 

Change is constant, Lord. There is no safety in life. Animals know this. They live and die hard. Short and sharp. Only humans believe it should be easy, and that is likely a memory of the Garden, where it was safe and easy. But we chose change, and You in Your wisdom and justice gave us what we asked for. Then, with mercy and grace, You stayed with us as we fight our way back into a fuller knowledge of Who You are. 

Thank You for walking with us. Thank You for not abandoning us to fear and meaninglessness. Thank You for providing a way. Thank You for giving us the gift of challenge and practice and improvement. Thank You for each new day and a new spirit within to face that day. Thank You for Your Spirit to comfort and guide as we go. 

Help us to listen. Help us to walk through and past the fear. 

In Jesus' name. 

Vampires and Morality

 I reread The Vampire Lestat and Queen of the Damned for maybe the 3rd time? Likely the last. Lestat was OK. I remember not liking QotD much the first or second times, but I do change over the years so I gave it one more try. 

Still don't like it. Probably for different reasons. It's too long and waaaay too long on the topic of morality. 

I know the backstory for Interview with a Vampire. It flows into Lestat. I believe most books - most good books, anyway - are therapy books: written by a person working stuff out. People who churn out blockbuster after blockbuster maybe not so much, but many authors write because they have something to say and they are good at saying it in an entertaining fashion. 

This author seems to be saying that humankind is evolving toward morality by removing all aspects of the spiritual and doing whatever they want as long as the motivation is love. "Love" is not really defined, although all the vampires seem to have it for their victims even as they rip their heads off and crush their bodies to pulp while drinking all their blood. They also all seem to want to be human again as long as they don't die. 

She paints a picture of all these atheists (although even that isn't correct because only the vampires seem to even think about gods) just getting along with each other in cities like Miami and San Francisco and doing their own thing without hurting each other anymore. The vampires discuss how the world keeps evolving into more and more loving of neighbors as religious thought is abandoned. 

Obviously a fictional world. Seems pretty clear to me thirty years after publication that removing religious thought from the marketplace leads to insanity, incivility and disorder. The world is searching for a Messiah more than ever. Focusing on presidents or world leaders instead of considering how each person can make a difference in their own tiny sphere of influence. Enough people living in the light daily would transform the world. Russell Brand has the correct idea there. 

Morality is found in God but it does have to be lived to make a difference in the world. It's not a thing that is stumbled into. Not yet. 

Keep the faith. 

God's Will

 I used to think God's will was an immutable, predetermined set of events that I was somehow supposed to find and follow as a testament to how well I listened to God. Yeah, it sounds like a load of crap to me, too, when I write it out. 

If it's immutable, why do I have to find it? Shouldn't I just walk into it accidentally? And doesn't that mean that whatever happens is what God meant to happen since it's all His plan? There's a major depressive episode right there. I no longer think it's that simple. One of the reasons I love Jordan Peterson is how quick he is to acknowledge the complexity of life. 

God's will is immutable in that I'm pretty sure everything has already happened. If God is outside time, then I'm in the snowglobe of the universe moving toward timelessness, but I'm also outside it already. This me just hasn't met that me yet. Doctor Who helps a bit with this kind of thinking. 

But what if God's will is a predetermined plan of multiple perfectly acceptable outcomes that all come together in the end no matter which path I choose? I'm not talking about other religions here. I'm talking about this job vs. that job, or this event vs. that event or even this spouse vs. that spouse. Not a choice between good and evil but a choice between two perfectly good choices. 

The times I most want God to tell me what to do are times when, quite frankly, the outcome feels like a big deal but may not actually make that big a difference. If it was a choice between waiting tables or porn star, I don't need a message from above. But to take my car for service today or a week from today? I don't really pray about that, but I do debate over when to take a cat to the vet, or when to take myself to the doctor. Or when to bring up an uncomfortable work topic. 

Yeah, many decisions have an impact. Can I really know which ones will destroy me and which won't? I can't know that. How many people chose to go to the Towers on a whim that day? A seemingly insignificant choice that wasn't insignificant at all.   

God's will is His ability to take what I will do and make it work for Him. I have no idea how He does it. I can't even be 100% sure that He can do it, since it's not over yet. But this is why I call Him God and not myself. He's supposed to be able to do things I can't. Like make it all mean something. 

Keep the faith. 

Merry Frelling Christmas

 In case you were wondering if I've gone through some miraculous transformation that turned me into a hyper-spiritual Mary Poppins - I haven't. I'm still me. I don't know what that means anymore but I know that the parts of me I hate the most remain fully intact. My ovaries, for example, and the frelling mood swings, and for the last 3 years, the covid nose - olfactory hallucinations of smells that don't exist, hang around for 24 hours or more, and like as not make me sick to my stomach - that accompany my ovarian nightmares. 

I hoped I was over the whole breeder thing and could settle into a post-menopausal world with its special horrors, but, no. Two libidinous coworkers scuttled those dreams and since we share the same ventilation system, I'm also back in circulation for who knows how long. One unpleasant aspect of my aging is that I now cycle through numerous hormone-charged moods instead of just irritability or sadness. I've added sleeplessness, anxiety, body aches - which doesn't really describe the depth of pain or utter lack of relief from that pain - and daily headaches that only ibuprofen can reduce, which I no longer take because some people think it's bad for my health. Because the rest of this is good for my health. 

This year, again, of course, the most wonderful time of year has coincided with the most hormonal time and I woke from a fitful sleep to fury and intense pain in every body part connected to my spine. I'm supposed to meet with family later, assuming I make it through winter road conditions that waited until today to manifest, and spend hours trying to play nice and prevent the inevitable when dealing with humans related by blood and little else. 

The cats have caught my mood and a peaceful four day stint has dissolved into spats and demented howling. Mostly from me, but they're adding what they can. 

All this will pass, but not today. Today I have some acrid, horrible smell in my nose that I can't identify and can't ignore. Today the only part of me that doesn't hurt yet is the top of my head and it's only 5 AM so that can change. Today I have to do my best to not kill, maim or firebomb any living things in the true spirit of Christmas until this unwelcome chemical wash passes. 

So Merry Frelling Christmas. May God have mercy on us all. 

A Prayer for My Coworkers

 Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who mercifully restores my soul within me. Great is Your faithfulness. 

Every day, we walk and work and live among people who know and people who don't know You. Every day You provide an opportunity to encourage and care for our fellow humans. Help us capitalize on that opportunity. 

For my fellow believers, strengthen our commitment to You and Your love. Allow us to channel the grace and forgiveness we receive daily. Help us reflect the Light of Christ instead of the darkness of the world. Help us support one another in our devotion to You. 

For my fellow humans who do not know You yet, change their hearts daily to become aware of their need for You. Change my heart to feel compassion instead of impatience. Give me courage to live Jesus daily at all times in all seasons. Give me eternal eyes to see Your future. 

Strengthen families. Cement spousal relationships into true partnerships of love and respect. Provide hope in a fallen world that You are present and working under the surface to change hearts and lives. Allow no pain to enter a life except that necessary to drive people into Your arms for comfort and healing. 

Protect the children as they enter a dangerous and corrupt world. Allow them innocence with strength. Give them purpose in a dark world. Be real to them, Lord, as only You can. 

Give us today our daily bread. Multiply the blessings of a generous heart. 

In Jesus' name. 

Wishes

 You know that beautiful but terrible movie Under the Tuscan Sun? 

TT: I finally realized I hate that movie so much because I'm Frances. Always wanting what I don't have. 

Remember when Frances is complaining to the real estate agent about all the things she wants, and later in the movie he shows her how she got everything she wanted, just not the way she wanted it? 

I've wished things were different for so long, but I never defined different. I never imagined I would outlive my goals. I never planned to live out my full 111 years.  

One of the books I read early this year was The Power of Now by Eckhardt Tolle, a student of Deepak Chopra (someone I believe suffered a psychotic break and made it work for him). Tolle's thesis is every day is a continual fresh slate. I am not bound by the person I was yesterday. That person is gone. 

One of my mantras this year is "change is constant." I cannot infuse those incredibly profound words with as much meaning as they convey. Maybe if I learned them in another language it would leave a more permanent mark on my soul. 

TT: I just got the irony in that thought. Permanent mark about constant change. 

My Dear Friend introduced me to Tuck Everlasting years ago, another thesis on the need for life to move forward. Life is not safe. Life is experience until death. After that, who knows but God? Life is supposed to be dangerous, and messy, and full of mistakes, and hard. Maybe even full of regrets. 

I find comfort in the idea that in some other multiverse, there is a "me" who made different choices, and has different regrets, and wishes her life was like mine. Bless her. I wish her well, whoever she became. Whoever she is becoming. Perhaps we'll grow toward each other as the years pass. 

Keep the faith. 

Why I Like Jordan Peterson

 I learned of Jordan Peterson this summer. I don't remember what I was reading or watching that involved him but I did a quick search, read a bit of The Book of Knowledge and watched a Rogan interview. 

He was not as represented - naturally - so I continued my investigation. He is worthy of respect in a world of increasingly useless people. I count him a lion. 

His most valuable contribution to my life so far is a non-religious argument for how to live with meaning. 

In my darkest moments, I have gone from "there is no God" to "God is an immortal sadist and there is no way out of this hell I call life." I often think of the movie Dark City with Rufus Sewell and the "crazy cop" in those times. 

But Dr. Peterson has spent his life in the search for existential truth and its practical applications. He agrees that life is bloody hard, possibly by design, and the only way to wring meaning and satisfaction from the struggle is to accept hardship as the path to truth and embrace the battle with gratitude for the opportunity. He often quotes "take up your cross and follow me" as a classic example, although I see no evidence that he believes Jesus is anything more than a Jungian manifestation of a hero arch-type. Which doesn't change the usefulness of his argument for me. 

Because, on my dark days, when I wonder if God is real, there is still a brilliant human who has drawn the conclusion that to live as if God is real by moving forward with gratitude and grit, seeking and speaking truth as I find it, provides the same benefits as anything else I might try. In this worldview, truth is God and truth is the prize that must be sought and gratitude is expressed truthfully as worship when encountered, and even if I become nothing at death, I will have lived with as much chance of happiness and fulfillment in the search as if there is a God who can provide eternal reward. 

I find great comfort in that thought. A man who at best appears agnostic has concluded that what I call a religious life has value even if ultimately it may have no meaning allows me to go on until my dark mood passes and my rational brain returns. 

Thank you, Jordan Peterson. May the God of peace and the source of truth bless you and your family in your quest. 

Keep the faith. 

Is Anything Hard for God?

Yeah, I'm being serious. One of my main complaints about life is how hard it is. We all know this. Some accept it with more grace and gusto than others. I'm one of those who rails against the machine. The whiner. The resentful. The brat. 

Fairly obvious, I know. 

Life only gets harder. I've struggled as an adult because I don't like this reality and I keep looking for a way around it instead of through it. One of my newly acquired and oft-practiced skills is not thinking about things. My intellect is my greatest enemy in this adventure called life. Thinking hard about certain topics leads to terrible things. 

This new skill involves thinking about God's attributes instead of (fill-in-the-blank). And while I was doing that, I was wondering how an all-powerful God decided to make a world with built-in mastery requirements. I mean, a chick has a limited supply of air and energy with which to break out of its egg before it dies. A butterfly that doesn't fight its way out of the cocoon doesn't get wings that work, and dies. All animals below mammals have some kind of shedding process that requires struggle to grow. Or they die. This hardship is built-in. 

What does God know about struggle? Isn't everything easy for Him? He created the universe with a word. I can't do that. How would He know that struggling to succeed is the only way to make life worth living? 

Is His omnipotence an assumption on our part because He can do things we can't? Was there a time when He did struggle and saw the benefit in it? Does He struggle now to love us? Is it hard for Him to maintain the universe? 

I'm not trying to blaspheme, or belittle. He's God and I'm not. I'm not even questioning His wisdom. I'm wondering if He understands me better than I know because He fights the same fights I do, just on a cosmic scale. Does that make Him more glorious? 

Keep the faith. 

A Prayer for the Lions

Lord, thank You for the truth seekers. Thank You for the ones who want real answers in a false world. Thank You for their courage to speak and question and search and persevere in their quests. 

Thank You for the Lions. The ones who stand up and roar the truth. The ones who point out hypocrisy. The ones who will not be canceled. Who will not back down. Who will not be silenced. 

Thank You for the awakening ones. Those who are noticing. Those who wonder if there is more to be known. Those who want to spread grace instead of condemnation. 

Thank You for the prayer warriors. Warriors who fight in the spiritual realms against the real if invisible forces of darkness and chaos and fear that choke our world. 

Hear us, Lord. Bless us as we reflect Your light. Keep us humble as You are humble. Teach us to focus on You no matter the circumstances. 

Use this time of turmoil to bring more and more souls into Your glorious presence. You are the source of truth, and peace, and victory. 

In Jesus' name. 

Amen.  

A Prayer for the Kind Ones

Lord, be merciful to the kind ones. The ones who see a need and step up. The ones who take a risk. The ones who understand that much can be gained by the strength of the ox. 

Bless Kiya's family. 

Bless Hazel's family. 

Bless Apple's family. 

Bless Chloe's family. 

Bless Misi's family. 

Bless Molly's family. 

Provide for them each day. Give them wisdom. Give them grace. Give them Your love and patience. 

Give them the joy of relationships. Strengthen their families. Strengthen their love for You. 

Let them be an example of how much blessing You can bestow when people follow Your example of kindness. 

In Jesus' name.