Obama, Ebola, and Jesus

In the spirit of being “Fair and Balanced,” I feel compelled to write this.
We all know the entry of Ebola into this country is completely President Obama's fault. Every United States citizen who is old enough to wave a flag, pull back the hammer of a revolver, or cross their heart and hope to die knows this simple truth. The blame rests at his feet and his feet alone.

You simply don't love America if you don't know whose fault this is. My god.
Hell, Ebola needs to go somewhere towards the top of the President's long list of abstract impeachable offenses. Waaaaaaay up there, I think.
But, I do not need to state the obvious.

I wish to address “The Ebola Issue” from a more tactful (?less tactful?) angle...a theological one.
(...and the cyber- huffs begin...)

I propose a question:
What would Jesus have Americans do for the people of Africa?
Stated differently, how would He want you or this country to behave?

While Jesus may not have been a political figure, He was a person who cared deeply about the masses. He cared about their spiritual and physical well-being. So, look at what is going on in the context of His teachings.
One of the ideas floating around right now, is banning all flights in and out of Africa (or the “infected” areas). Is that something He would approve of?

There are healthy people wanting to get out. This is a natural, human, response to being surrounded by danger. If a building is on fire, you find a fire exit. If a damn has broken, you run. The same is going on in Africa. People want to escape. Would Jesus agree with chaining the fire exits shut?

If you were in the same situation as many of those people, you would be desperately trying to flee. Make no mistake about it...citizens of Western Africa are in peril. Depending on where a person lives, it is possible someone on every corner actually has Ebola. There, it's an actual plague, not a headline orgy like it is here. Thousands and thousands of people are dying. Some towns and villages are decimated.
So, should those men, women...and children...be stranded there? Is that what Jesus, your “Personal Savior” would have you do? Say you were able to sit down with the Lord of Hosts and King of Kings and have a conversation on the topic of “Stranded Adults and Children in Africa.” What would His opinion on the subject be?
“Screw 'em!!!” -Jesus of Nazareth (You know, somehow that doesn't seem like something He'd say.)
Do you honestly think He would want you to turn your back, on not just the sick, but the healthy too?
I remember someone saying, “Let the little children come to me...” (Hmmm....Who was that?) Did this person only mean certain kids?
When Jesus made His famous Sermon on the Mount, He listed a cadre of blessings. What Beatitude would a flight ban fall under? “Blessed are the terrified, for a plague shall thin the population. Blessed are the trapped, for I will not listen to their cries.” (I guess, the translators missed those few lines when putting the Bible together.)
Does turning our back on Africa fall under, “Do unto others...?” I sure as hell hope not.
The flight ban philosophy many want to adopt seems very akin to what happened after the sinking of the Titanic. As swimmers pleaded for help and reached to the nearest life raft, they were beaten down by oars and knocked back into the icy water. I bet Jesus agreed with their actions too.
Well, what about other parts of the Bible? What do they say?
Maybe Galatians speaks to this. Is my New Testament missing the sections where it says, “Put on the Quarantine Suit of God?” Does that come right after the newly the discovered Book of Darwin where “Self Preservation” is introduced into the Holy Scriptures?
I suppose, I'm just confused on when to use the words of Jesus and when not to. I thought Christians followed His teachings in every single aspect of their lives and wanted their leaders to as well. This is a “Christian Nation,” right? Don't they want the country to espouse core Christian values because they show them so well at home?
Something in me is beginning to think the “Christian Collation” or “Christian Right” tends to be nothing more than a group of individuals who cherry picks the teachings of Jesus at times of convenience and then casts those same words to the back of the bookshelf when trouble arises. It's almost like they wrap themselves in piety for personal gain. How troubling.

I'm happy they have secured eternal lodging in a city with streets lined in gold and simply ecstatic about knowing I'm going to Hell. However...what about Earth? How will they answer for their quivering faith and selective acceptance of obvious doctrines if they are correct about the after-life?

I don't agree with all of Jesus' teachings. Some I find rather questionable and others immoral. But on this...I do believe the man would be right.  

My Burning Bush

A tree.

Of all things, that's what has pressed upon me the “need” to write.

It sits directly across the street from where I live and resides a few feet back from a used and beaten sidewalk. Behind and around it is a large cluster of other trees staggered down a steep hill of black dirt. The foliage becomes so thick and interwoven, a person might think they were in a forest not a subdivision. There is even a small stream gurgling over rocks, which homes the squabbling raccoons  I hear screeching to each other at night.

But resting on the very top edge of this condensed wilderness, one tree has caught my eye.
If it does the same as last year (and I hope it does), a few weeks from now, something rather odd will happen. The leaves on it will start changing colors. While this might seem normal and part of an annual process...only half of the leaves change at a time. It is as though this tree was not one, but two. Right down the middle, the southern side acknowledges and accepts the coming of Fall while the northern half clings to Summer a little longer. This process continues through all seasons. It will lose leaves one half before the other, but will also bud the same way. Even to the top, steeple-like branch, one side fades first.
This tree amazes me.
It also breaks my heart...and I am still trying to completely figure out why.
I think some of it has to do with the idea, that I am the only person on Earth who is paying attention to it. I am probably the only who has ever noticed this. No...I am sure of it. This tree, while near other trees, is a lonely thing and some event caused it to be different. Was it a lightning strike that came just a little too close? Did it catch some illness as a sapling? Is something wrong with its roots? Is this simply a genetic variation the tree can't help? Are there insects eating away at it from the inside and no one can tell?

When it looks to the Sun, what does it feel?
I empathize with this tree. Why? Because for most of any season, it looks rather mundane, typical. People do not stop and take notice. They do not wonder why or care about this thing which is so common in the world. It's a tree. They simply pass on. The story of this tree, its life and trials, are of no concern.

...Just keep walking...
Even the birds, who use this tree for nesting, will never know vital details about its life. I will never know. Its story has long been lost.

Such a simple thing...the life of a tree.
I am so glad I moved to this place, if for no other reason, than because of this tree. I have taken pictures of its cycling through the seasons. It is an incredible spectacle.

One day, I will move from here. It might be ten years from now. It may be sooner. Whenever it is...this Tree, I will remember it the rest of my life.

The Phoenix and His Decade of Decadence

There was a time when I was an avid reader.

One of the things I loved most was the sectioning or scoring of great novels. Each "Part"  finished with a semi-climax, but the story wouldn't end. It kept going, building and getting better. I guess, it is meant to be like acts in a play where the lights go dark, the audience is left hanging, and that massive black cloth tumbles to the stage.

Well, my life has had a few of these...but in the coming days...the largest of them all will fall upon me.

And tonight, I had a last supper of sorts. It was a quiet, wordless, meal between two people who knew their course had been run. Why no words? Because there was nothing to say. The tears rimming our eyes were enough. They held ten years worth of memories...some precious to her, others to me...but sacred, private.
(For that one, brief, moment we were almost normal people.)

We had given each other permission to leave and let the other know we would be alright. Funny...she was just as worried about me as I was about her. "It's okay, go." That's what those held back tears said.
All pretense has been pushed away and packing has already started.

This time next month, probably much sooner, over a thousand miles will stand between us. She will have a new life...the best life in world is what I pray for her. It is a devote prayer. I ask for a life of joy and happiness, one of contentment and peace...laughter.


And me...the Phoenix, will have started his cycle again.

...sigh...

Fine. I am taking flight...

But if I am the Phoenix...then that means I will be flying into the Sun and lighting fire, very soon. I can't shy away from any pain if I want to be reborn.

"Fall down seven times, get up eight."
-Japanese Proverb


A decade is a long time...a quarter of my life....how many more of these do I have?


I guess, I'll be finding out soon enough.

.
.
.
.

My Internet will be going out soon...very soon. So, this will be the last post I make from my laptop, for awhile. The next time I turn it on, I will be alone and in a new home.
I am not sure which is stranger...the idea being alone or moving so much in my life...I don't even know what "home" really means. I would give a number on how many times I've moved in my life...but no one would believe me.
Oh, well...

Gotta fly!!!

You're not crazy...not yet.

"No, you're not crazy...not yet."

Once it hit me, that those words had actually been directed at me...
After I realized they were coming from the lips of this tiny Indian woman, my neurologist...
Gigantic and uncontrollable tears, happy tears, blistered in my eyes.
Ha! Who would have thought, huh?
Everything had so quickly changed. I was positive no one, not a single person on Earth, could understand the unthinkable drama actually miming around in my head. Oh, my god...it was some kind of muted freak show!  Yet, she did... She did!!!  This woman did!! Such utter relief!!!
You know what she told me next, though? In a calm,  confident voice she said, "But if you don't get this fixed...you will go crazy."
The woman is at most 5' tall, still in that moment...she was my Goliath, Mighty Og.
Propped silently in a swivel chair like a figurine, she spun to face me.  This small being, her soft dark eyes and dangling feet which didn't even touch the ground...she was able to tower over me. Oh, how I wanted it to be so simple as casting a spell or wearing charm and all of this would be over.
I was at her mercy. But I saw no staff, no crooked pole she would magically wave, only a  keyboard she used for taking digital notes rested in her lap.  The distance between us helped me understand how cavernous the office really was, how small I was too. I felt swallowed.

I needed help. Badly.


I have epilepsy.
That is nothing new. How it hit me, is. Well...that's not quite right.
How it stuck with me...that's was new...horribly new.

Like anything, epilepsy comes in various forms. There can be nearly as many types of it as there are flavors of ice cream. Left alone, epilepsy evolves into an ugly "lifeform." It flares and bites, injecting unpredictable quantities of venom.  You never know. The seizures could be nothing more than an annoyance, like finding a small swollen and itchy spider's lump under your sleeve...or...they could be devastating things, powerful, even lethal strikes, close to that of an adder....or constrictor.
Me? I have Grand Mal and Petit Mal seizures. I do not know if it is rare or common to have two types. I just have them and it is "My Life."

Unlike many, I have been blessed. It has not always be this way for me. Some go their entire lives waking up taking pills, having the pharmacist remember them by  medication type (because that's so much easier than names), planning trips around over-stocked supplies of meds, wondering worst-case scenarios to "seize"...who may see? Not everyone with epilepsy is so fortunate, because my life has not always had these concerns. I am thankful. Very thankful.

A little over a week ago, a series of Grand Mal seizures came for a surprise visit. For me, this is odd, exceptionally so. I normally only have one every six months to a year. Most of the time, they come during Winter while an unusually bitter spell drops in from the North.

Four of them overtook me in as many days. Stranger yet about this cluster, they happened in the evening. Three of the buggers got me when I was fast asleep. (As a general rule, mine occur in the morning, but never after Noon.) So, as you see, the entire set up was foreboding in a way.

Many seizures are identical to knockout punches. The person on the receiving end has no idea what has happened. Lights out.  That is especially true with the Grand Mal...
So, I awoke in the early hours of  the AM, when it could almost still be called "night." I found cold, dark spots on my bed...close to my facial area. The low light helped these patches resemble coffee stains.  With some stale iron taste and flakes of gummy flesh bobbing around in my mouth,  I soon realized what I was seeing. That's blood. The source of the little puddles became clear, instantly. It had been leaking from where I had chewed my tongue and cheeks in convulsions.  The soft tissue surrounding my teeth felt nearly pulverized. My arms and legs were stiff and sore. My head ached. Damn...a seizure.
But there were two puddles?
Did I have two? No...
I felt around in my mouth. Yep. Both sides. Two seizures.

I let this pass as...alarming...but not much more. Oh, well.

The next evening, I had another in my sleep.

On the last day, I had one more Grand Mal when I came in from smoking. However, something else happened, as well. I had a very large Petit Mal seizure. Oxymoron, I know.  She, my doctor, thinks it might have actually been a new animal for me. The generic name is a "frontal lobe" seizure...but once it started, it lasted for several days.
(It is also possible I have had these before.)
But back to what we know I have....
..."Seizures for Dummies"...
The difference between Grand and Petit Mal seizures is you don't lose full consciousness. You are awake the whole time.
Grand Mal seizures are the Hollywood seizures. The flip and flop kind. (calm down...I have them, I can jest) A Petit Mal can be as simple as staring off into space or bouncing in place for a few seconds. There are other aspects to it too (rather embarrassing), but understand...you are not there. It's similar to a forced daydream, but with nothing on your mind. Blankness. As soon as it is over, however, you snap right back. There isn't much recovery, only lost time. You can see  videos of these on Youtube.

The "event" which happened to me, oh this, was vastly different. My whole thought process was disrupted. It was bigger than any Petit Mal seizure I have had in a long long time and, this much time later...I still think I am battling it some.


Looking back, I see I held a two-fold advantage going in to this many people don't. The most important, and one I will get to shortly, is a friend who wouldn't let me "break." And believe me, I was there. NO I mean it, I was there. 
The other, was a vocabulary and use of analogy. I pulled them out like a hammer and sickle (a couple people  will like that). I was able to explain to my doctor what was happening.

Seizures can be preceded or pre-cursed by an "aura." Many people have a difficult time explaining what that is and the closest description is "Deja-vu."
The seizure I had, I believe, is called "Aura Continua." The name makes the thing obvious. Does it not? Don't you see why my doctor told me what she did? 
"...not yet."
No?
Hmmm....

I believe John of Patmos was an epileptic and the revealings in the Book of Revelation...are nothing more than Aura Continua. That is how vague, yet horrible it is.
In the however many days it was I suffered through this long seizure...I nearly lost myself.


I will do my best to explain it...and name, without naming, the person who REFUSED to let me go...



My piece of the world shifted ever so slightly. At first, I could hardly notice. Objects leaned maybe a bit too far, nothing blatantly perceptible, not really. They were technicalities you would almost have to look and listen for...one too many shadows from a light bulb, an extra ripple in a pond for no reason, an echo which resounded a bit too closely . You get what I mean, shit you don't care about but is important for some reason.
But with each minute, each hour, my certainty grew....no, this was wrong...really wrong.
Before long, it was obvious (to me) I was in trouble. I started quietly backing myself in corners. I resisted the urge to reach at my ears, to brush my hands at my eyes...because was nothing there...and I knew it.
I wanted to look over my left shoulder.
Why?! Why would I want to do that? I was in the damn corner?!
And that was just the start...
I had days and days more to go...

The worst and truly tormenting aspect of the seizure once it kicked on all the way, was this "non-vision" it created in my head. A storm cloud of confusion descended on me.
It was as though I HAD to continually reach for "something," an image or thought. It was just hanging out there in my mind waiting to be seen, but not close enough to get to.  
Damnit....nope.
Initially, that's all this was. An odd question of sorts. A puzzle.
...but it never quit.
Ever.
Imagine the frustration of only being able to get close to "Eureka!"  but banned from getting there. I have a torture for you. Forever and eternally almost allow someone to remember things...Let them get close, but not there...Having a hard time getting that? You know,  what I mean. The struggle you go through to find a name you have forgotten....Always trying to get to your epiphany and never hitting it, the constant battle... The "what is it?!"
What if that is all you had? What if there was nothing to remember at all?
That is what my seizure was...trying to remember something that never was.

It is final step without ever crossing over.
My seizure was...always hanging on..always searching.

I saw all of this in the first hours. Relentless poundings of the same followed...for days. 

Say you know, just know, there is something you are missing, but when you stop to think about what that "something" is...it drifts away. ALWAYS. Pretend you are certain, absolutely certain with all of your being, that you have forgotten something very very important. Yet, when you stop to remember what it is...you can't. But you know...if you pick up and move on...you will remember it. It's that close.
It is the "Thirst of Tantalus."
It's the missing ingredient you can taste, but not name.
It's bending over to pick up your hat...and forever kicking the damn thing down the road!!
No, this time, this time I'll get it!!!
And each time, because the hat is so close...you are sure you're right!!!
It is something off to your side, turning with your every turn, but purposefully being not quite fast enough to be a proper mimic.
And because all of this happens in your head...at the the speed of light...you can hardly notice.

But you do.

It's that tune which repeats in your head over and over...but  you can't remember the name of. It's the end of cord you just can't reach or the movie you never get to see the end of.
But it isn't as simple as that...
Remember when how I said epilepsy becomes a "Lifeform?" That's what this is. Aura Continua is a lifeform which refuses to be forgotten. Once it starts, it won't go away. It nibbles. It chews. Forever. Every dream. Every breath. Every time you take a piss or look away from the mirror. This lifeform follows you and surfaces for air.  It wants you to "see" it, but when you try...it steps back. No, it runs and hides behind objects purposefully too small to conceal itself, but large enough to make out a "shape" of some kind.

There were instances I knew...KNEW...the "event" would end...if I could just seeeee...

...whatever was hiding from me. Yep, that would solve it all.


But, that is how this "thing" feeds.
The more you try to think about it, the more you try to sort it out...whatever "it" is...this thing only grows stronger, hopelessly impossible to see. Aura Continua demands focus but will not allow it. Escher could never have dreamed such a beauty. Futile to think about and necessary to try at the same time. The creature allows you to view single adjectives, strings of mismatched nouns...nothing more.
Soft. Dog hat head table. Black. Then nothing again...

It becomes as meaningless as six clear pages from the Bible stacked on top of each other, displayed through the glow of an overhead projector. Each of them is smeared and smudged in its own way, even typed in different fonts. A message is there. "Something" is written....what?!?!
That is what was going through my head...and yet it wasn't even close to that reasonable.

I have always prided myself on my mind, on my wit. I loved how articulate I could be. So, I knew this was some form of "just desserts"  for life I have led...things wasted and tears my parents must have cried over me. Case closed.  I was being driven insane and I figured I deserved it. Hell, colors even began to change. Emoticons on my phone and in chat looked different...they started coming alive. Everything took on a whole new perspective. I couldn't look at faces in articles. A deep and heavy sense of dread followed me.

I was breaking. I felt the cracks in my sanity opening, parting. I prayed for it to stop...just stop!!!!

Directly under the vent of the air conditioner, I started sleeping in the living room...with the lights on. I needed the place as cold as I could get it, so I could have a reason to pile blankets over top of me and feel the support of the sofa to wrap around me. I felt myself regressing in age. I huddled. My words slurred together like a drunkard's because I couldn't think straight. I couldn't eat. I couldn't drink. I knew I was going crazy.

The only reprieve I had was for the short time I chatted with my dearest, most loving friend, online. Only she knew how bad I was. She told me later, she felt me "breaking" and refused to let it happen.
She was crying...literally weeping...for me.

I have no idea how much sleep she lost for me. 

I hung on to her name...her face...

She was all I had...
And she knew it...

I watched letters splash up on the screen, forming her words which would let me know I'd make it and everything will be okay...And as long as they were her words, I believed them.
Because she wouldn't lie to me.
I took each spare second I had to clutch my phone to my chest, holding it like it was her hand...sometimes kissing it.
Without my knowing, states and states away, she was doing the same when it was my turn...rocking her phone, cradling it.  
Back and forth...we did this for hours...for days...
She begged and pleaded with me to go to the hospital. But, I couldn't. A couple weeks before, when I started having problems with my Petit Mal seizures and knew they were getting bad (and I didn't tell anyone, not even her how bad) I parked my truck far away. I removed the temptation of driving. So...I was marooned. She was my only lifeline. 1600 miles away....she sat with me...crying...praying...feeling as helpless as anyone, maybe more so. (She would never admit it, but she probably thought I was going insane too..but even still her love for me never quivered, never twitched..)

I love her so much. Were it not for her...


Every ounce of bravery I had fell away.
I told her how afraid I was...
I tried to explain the things I saw...

I cried, oh how I cried, when I told her I had to sleep with the lights on like a little child...

And you know what she did? She became my champion.

She told me she knew I was afraid...but she was there with me...she promised never to leave....
She said she didn't understand what I was trying to see...but swore to help me find it...
And then, she offered up maybe the most heartbreaking and tender things of all...

"Well, I sleep with a nightlight. It's okay."
Oh, how I wept at the softness of that!!!It was like a giant stopping to pick fruit for children.

Several times she wrote,  "Just close your eyes and pretend and I am holding your hand," not knowing I was already doing it.
Sometimes, I would get a simple text out of nowhere..."Newberry." or "John."
 ...and that was all I needed.

She offered to let me call her anytime in the night...and just listen, listen to me cry.  She knew how alone I felt...and filled the void.
She stepped over those miles...her heart crossed them...and held me.

A few days later she told me, "I would not lose you again. I would do anything for you."
Yeah...I believe it.
I do.
I have no doubt she would have slung this burden over her shoulder and worn it for me...and me..Me? I love her so much, I would gladly carry it for a thousand years in her stead.

She and I have been through a lot...no...really...a lot...more than anyone will ever know...or believe.
People talk of "soulmates." What she and I are, is inexplicable. We are two souls who refused to be divided. Maybe we are one soul, forever broken and is trying to heal. There is no gulf too large to bridge. There is no length of time too long for us to be apart where we think we are no longer "close." There is no embrace which can come soon enough.
We are simply "best friends." We are a duo. We are a pair, the likes of which, this world and all of History seldom sees.
And she was with me when I needed her most.



And so I went to the doctor...
And I walked in there, knowing, knowing I was losing my mind...going mad...
And I explained to this woman from India what I had been going through...
And I asked her, if I was crazy...
And she said...
"No, you're not crazy...not yet."

And I cried...oh, how I cried.


That's where I've been.

Boyce Avenue - I Want It That Way (Lyrics)

Boyce Avenue - I Want It That Way

We Are Young - Fun. feat. Janelle Monáe (Boyce Avenue acoustic cover) on...

Rusted Root - Send Me On My Way (Table Ten acoustic cover)

Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson's remarks at Senate Commerce hearing on the futu...

Swimming

Since I was the smallest of children, I loved to swim.
I was always in the water, diving and flipping around like a slippery little frog. It was nearly impossible to get me out once I dove in. It became my second home. Large portions of my Summers were spent with wrinkled hands and shriveled fingers. My entire body was simply waterlogged, I stayed submerged so much.

The best times were when a storm was coming. As that misshapen and compressed wall of dark blue clouds slowly pushed in from the northwest, even the brightest of days dimmed little by little. A cool breeze quickly turrned  cold, icy, against my wet skin. I knew instantly, I was not getting out of the water. I remember the wind kicking in and thick heavy raindrops, the size of marbles, falling...but "under"...nothing.
There, it was oh-so was warm.


Well...
I am ever the one for analogies, and last night another one hit me as I was trying to sleep.

My love life (is that what it is called for men?) is much like my joy of swimming, and in some ways, similar to swimming on those stormy Summer days, the days I liked best, when only the water could keep me warm.
I am sadly seeing I have been far more careless than I should have been. Time after time, I have gone around seeking the prettiest pool I could find. And once I found that pool...I dove right in (I am a man of extremes). I didn't check to see how deep it was or even if the water was cold. I was ready to swim! And once I was in...I refused to budge....until the water drained or I was dragged out.

And you know what I realized? I did same damn thing again!
I saw this pool...and I had to go swimming in it. I had to. There was no stopping me. I snipped the caution tape and kicked down the barricades warning me about the dangers of this particular pool. I laughed at the fools running the other way. Ha! Fine, I had an oasis. So when I got close enough...I took the biggest swan dive a man have has ever taken and aimed directly at the center of that beautiful pool I just could not live without.

The dive almost broke my neck.

I found out, a little too late, where I landed is very shallow. It's not even deep enough for me to swim. If I twist my body the right way, if I contort and turn, I can glide across it at times...but, if I am honest with myself, it isn't meant for a man to be in. I should say, it isn't  meant for this man to be in. I will always think there is a deeper end to the pool  (I have to believe that.) but for some reason I can't get there. There is some sort of barrier I can't see. Every time I try to cross over, I get cut up..hurt. I will forever have the scars to prove it, to prove how goddamn hard I tried.

So, for the first time in my life...I need to get out of the water on my own.
I'm going to get out of the water...I have to face this crisp wind that is coming. But, I'm afraid of being cold.
It is much easier to stay where I am, to float along. However, I know will never really swim.

I've been urged for years to get out of this pool by many people, loving people. And, indeed,  I have tried a few times before...but when it came down to it, I couldn't or I did, but jumped right back in.

What makes this time different, though,  and why and I know I can get out of the water, is because someone stepped out of the bushes, or maybe out of the clouds (a friend, a long lost friend).
This friend has walked up to the side of the pool I am in, tears in her eyes. She's crying for me, with me. She isn't offering a hand to pull me out (...No, I must do that on my own...) but, she is holding this huge warm towel.
You see, the weather is cold outside and she knows it...she can feel it, herself. She knows the chill very well.
And because she knows me so well, she also knows how much I want to swim...how I long for it.
But, she isn't pressuring me to exit the water. She's saying, "Okay, John Newberry, if you want to stay in there, that's fine. I'm not leaving. Let's talk." She understands me, understands if I want to stay in this pool and never get out. No matter what my choice, she'll sit there...she'll be there...for me. For me.
I so love her for it. To try to express in words how that makes me feel is almost an insult to the emotion.

She's my own cherub. 

So, don't worry, I truly have an angel watching over me and I'm going to get out of this water soon.
However, I don't care what anyone says. This was a good pool. I had to take the shot. Yes, it's sharp very very sharp and coarse in spots...but it has some really warm places too. I just wish it was deep enough for me to swim in.

The Sweetest Christmas Cookie...I Have Ever Had

Last night, for whatever reason, I made the choice of going to my Aunt and Uncle's Christmas Eve party. I am so glad I attended, because I will remember this event the rest of my life.


It was a wonderfully warm and casual gathering of maybe twenty people. Folks were lounging around or taking turns visiting with whoever they chose. My cousin Jaime and I were playing some strange card game by the fireplace. As we were doing so, I was snacking on some very tasty cookies my Aunt Kris had given me for Christmas. They had come sealed in a container not at all unlike a to-go box for Chinese food, sporting a few ribbons and streamers. Quite clever.

I glanced from over my cards and saw this tiny thing tumbling towards me. It was Gi-Gi. She is very young and Brooke's (Jaime's older sister) absolutely beautiful daughter.
Earlier in the night, the two of us had already shared many cups of invisible tea from her pink princess set (which I... think....was far far too hot for me to drink at first. But guessing whether I was supposed to be enjoying my drink or be scalded by it, is much tougher than it would seem if you only go by the expressions of a little girl), she was also so kind to as to refill my mug over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over...(sigh)..and over and over and over. She even let me hold her dolls for a few minutes as she readied them for bed.
So, seeing her head my way...I figured, odds were, I must be thirsty again.
Nope.
I found out I wasn't hungry.
I watched as two-inch long fingers reached into the box of cookies I had before me. They pulled out one, then two, then three... Soon, all the cookies (all my cookies at that!) were pinned to the chest of this little (yet, respectfully brazen)thief, who then went around the room and passed them out to other people. Out fairness to Gi-Gi, she did leave me with the corner of a sugar star.
I survived the heist and went back to the card game. Fine. I didn't want cookies, anyway,

How much time passed? A year? A month? Twenty minutes? I couldn't tell you. But when I looked up, there she was...again.
The girl was stalking me.
Her impossibly small hand was outstretched. She was holding something...just for me...only, this time it wasn't imaginary. ...and, there was no need to search her expressions. I knew what it was. It was a cookie. Well...at some seemingly very distant point in history, it was a cookie. More specifically, it had belonged to a cookie.  You see, what she held couldn't have been an actual cookie. The thing between her fingers was globular. It edged and drooped over her miniature digits. Cookies don't do that. Generally, they hold form...or at least, my cookies did.

As yummy as this multicolored mass of goo was to her, I didn't want any. There really was no need to share this me. She could keep my cookie, if that's indeed what this sad and soggy thing in her hand had once had been. It wasn't that big of a deal. At this point, it was hers. I was okay with that. I really really really was.
Nonetheless, my pleas of "No Thanks" and "That's Okay"  and "Oh, you have it" did nothing to dissuade, this now generous vandal. I had to give in. I had to. She's a Jedi. At two feet tall, she towered over me...I was powerless. There was no use in fighting any longer, so I extended my hand.
Gi-Gi gave me, what could only be described as, the "paste of a cookie" and it didn't plop into my hand as much as it smeared.
My response, as Gi-Gi gleefully trotted away?
"Brooke, your child is so disgusting." But even as I said it, I couldn't help but laugh. I have never had such an experience. Ever. Even after it was gone, I felt that cookie, or cookie-corpse, in my hand for twenty minutes.
 

Before Brooke and her husband (Mike) left, Gi-Gi came to see me one last time. I wasn't sure what else this little thing could possibly do to me. Unexpectedly, she gave me a kiss on the cheek to say goodbye. It was like a little dew drop.

And then she was gone...with my heart in tow.

Today, as I write this, and I think of the innocence of that child, of her handing me the last bites of something she thought was so wonderful, I can't help but think...it may be the sweetest Christmas Cookie I have ever had.

Merry Christmas.

Faith in God's Justice...

Faith...what is it?





Faith: complete trust or confidence in someone or something



Typically, people think of faith as accepting. In a religious context, it is saying, "Okay, God, I believe you." It is a willingness to move past whatever is standing in front of you, or take the step in the dark not knowing what is out there. However, like anything, faith can be more...much more.
While I do not understand the ability to accept something blindly...I find it admirable in a way.
But there is another kind of faith too, a faith for others,  who are like me. They want or need a little more information. And doesn't God, our God, realize this? Of course He does. Because if He if doesn't, He shouldn't be called "God."

So, here is where my act of faith is different. It is not so much like stepping into the dark. It is like stepping into the dark on a tight rope. My act of faith is not in accepting the answer...but...in asking the question.
Why?
You see, I don't pretend for one second that I can stump God with my tiny questions. (Even I am not that bold). But when I ask the question...I am laying it all out there. I am putting my total faith in God. I am saying I know He has the answers.
And for me, it is an incredible act of faith...because so much can be riding on I what I don't find.

I love to think out-loud and share it with people...so...




If you dare, take a step of faith me while I ask another question...let's see what we find...



Alright, I have another one. Let's start with a definition.

Justice: the quality of being fair and reasonable

God is just...right?
The Bible says He is.



I heard this question (or one form of it) offered to a preacher, and I found it so very interesting.

Here is the question:
Should a finite being (a human) get sentenced to an infinite punishment (Hell)?
Put another way...if a man only lives 50 years on Earth, does 600 billion+ years (and on and on...) in Hell seem fair?

So, let us go back to our definition of justice. Is our definition wrong?  No, I think it's pretty solid.  Then, is the description of God wrong? I don't think so, either. In Exodus, God makes it clear how important Justice is. As an example, the famous/infamous "eye for an eye" code is found there. That is His idea of what Justice is.



If you were to look at the "eternal sentence" of the damned (really of absolutely anyone) and make an analogy of it, what could you come up with that would look reasonable or fair? I see nothing.
On your balance (your imaginary scale not too different from the one Blind Lady Justice holds) which measures out what is "fair and reasonable"...on one side I picture a raindrop. That is the sin of a man's life. On the other, as punishment for this sin, there is a raging waterfall...because the water will never stop coming. How do those two measure up? How do they balance?
I see a speck or mote of dust and on the other side of the balance an entire mountain range...yet the mountain range continues to grow...for all of time.
Where is the Justice in this? How does that scale sit level?

Even the worst things a person can do turn small, insignificant, when looked at on the scale of infinity. Humans cannot even comprehend the idea of infinity, yet we can be sentenced to it. Isn't that a bit odd?

If you were standing in plains of Kansans, in some wheat field with nothing else around, and Mount Everest was placed in front of you...it would be enormous. It would tower over you. But if you turned and walked away, and did so long enough, it would become smaller and smaller. At some point, you wouldn't even be able to see it. You would never know it was ever there.
That is the idea of infinity and Man's sin...including the very very worst of sins. Yes, the VERY worst. Over they span of time and distance they become meaningless. They are a raindrop against a waterfall.

Does God not see this?
Surely He must.
If He is the just God we believe Him to be, how is this reconciled?

If I am struck down by lightning...now you know why.

It is either very early or very late when I am starting to write this, I guess it depends on how you look at things.
Christopher Hitchens' death has made me do a lot of thinking...A LOT.
I fully expect to lose a couple (if not more) Facebook friends who read this, or maybe because of the debate it will cause after. I am okay with that.

I will get to the point.

Growing up, I was taught that God was, among many things, omnipotent and perfect. I have come to the conclusion that both those attributes we often lay on God...are simply wrong.

Why?

It is impossible.
I asked someone "Where did Evil come from? Did God create it too?" The answer I was given was, roughly, "Evil wasn't created by God, but rather it is a byproduct (or maybe the only product) of what happens when God isn't around." And I think that is a pretty a standard answer. If you turn from God, the only choice is Evil.
Hmmm...
But think about that.
What it says, is God cannot...CANNOT...destroy Evil. It happens every time He is not there. It follows him like a shadow. And if God is eternal, then so is Evil. If God cannot destroy Evil, He is not omnipotent.


My second point...God is not perfect, maybe even not omniscient.

A perfect being (who can see all past, all present, and all future events) does not change their mind.
When is indecision a model of perfection? Would not an eternal and perfect being see all the future choices which had to be made? Why would there ever be a change of heart on any subject?
Look at Abraham. He was told to sacrifice his son. He was ordered to murder and burn his child.
(Yes, I know, it was a test of the man's faith.)
As you know, I am not a parent and more than likely never will be. However, I could not fathom such an action...ever. Could you? Should you?
Tell me this, which is better? To think that God wanted Abraham to kill Issac and burn his carved up body, only to change His mind at last moment...or...God knew all along it was never going to happen?
Because I say the last, is the act of a sadist.
Hitchens often compared monotheism to North Korea. His point is well-made. How does the whole Abraham and Issac story not sound like something the "Dear Leader" would require of a subjugated people? In an effort to prove their loyalty to the Party, people would be required to show a willingness to offer up their own child.
Would we say it was a only a test today?
No...it would be looked upon as a crime against humanity.


If you know every thought a person a has, if you can read them like you can program on a computer, and allow them to be tortured with the idea of killing their own child out of loyalty towards you...but you know you will never allow them to do it...how are you NOT a sadist?

Or would it be better to think God changed His mind?
(In both instance, though...the simple demand on Abraham should be utterly disturbing and just horrifying.)


Is saying this blasphemy? Probably.
I guess I will see what happens to me next.

Fighting Something

I have almost decided that "Life" is not something we go through. Rather, it is a Something which fights against us.
Now, it is easier on people and harder on others. Then, there are chaps like me...who help this Something beat the hell out themselves. But not matter what, It always wins.
Always.

With this thought in mind, I came across across an ancient Jewish Proverb. It wasn't one written by Solomon, in fact, I am not sure if anyone knows the origins of where it came from. I suspect it is from the time of when the Jewish people were in Egypt because that would make sense...but I could be very wrong.

Like all good proverbs, it is short.

"I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders."

What I love about this, is how it can be seen in two different ways.

On face value, it is a non-complaint. It is acceptance. Life, and all the trouble which come with it, is out my control. I just want to manage it better. "Yes, I know it sucks. Help me out."
Can we make a bargain? Is there some middle ground where it won't be so bad on me?


The second way to look at is the way I prefer...it is a view of defiance.
It is like a muskox turning his face into the bitter polar wind for the protection of the herd.
It is a challenge to the Something...an insult. And it may be the only insult a human can ever give It, which has true sting or bite.
"Yes, I know you are going to win...but I am not going to make this easy on you."



In a way it's similar to when I was around 19 or 20. I got into a fight with this guy. He was huge (no, I mean it...he was really big). Looking back, I suppose, it was quite stupid...but I refused to back down, I would not cower to someone...no matter how big they were.
He won the brawl, of course, but you know what? I damn near took his eye out. So every day for the rest of his life, when he looks in the mirror and sees that scar, he will remember me.

That's how I want to be with Life.
I won't quit. I won't back down.
Pile it on.

If my shoulders were bigger...
...well, my challenge was issued long ago...and still stands.

Cops Beat Up People Because They Know They Can Get Away With It!

I Believe - Cowboy Mouth

Fox News Smears Mom @ Occupy Wall Street

Sissel - Bridge Over Troubled Water

Levi Kreis I should go with lyrics (Vampire Diaries 2 X 22)

Creed-One Last Breath

October 21st is supposed to be the end of the world.

Well, I guess, it is possible God will slap the planet silly that day. It's not like you can prove He won't do it.
So, we will have to bite our nails and pace floors until October 22nd, hoping to wake up...seeing that He didn't do it.

I will make this wild prediction...(wait for it)...The world will keep on spinning.

Either way, here is an utterly beautiful song for those of us who survive that day, but still feel like...

Well...

It's a song for those of us who realize how badly we messed up our lives or worry we sold our souls along the line somewhere:

"Please come now I think I'm falling
I'm holding on to all I think is safe
It seems I found the road to nowhere
And I'm trying to escape
I yelled back when I heard thunder
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

I'm looking down now that it's over
Reflecting on all of my mistakes
I thought I found the road to somewhere
Somewhere in His grace
I cried out heaven save me
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/c/creed/one_last_breath.html ]
Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

I'm so far down

Sad eyes follow me
But I still believe there's something left for me..."