Monday, February 11, 2008
Damn that damn ol' debble!
Now, I quit seein' a demon behind every doily, as they used to say, a long time ago.
But whether the ol' debble ("devil") is just a personification of evil, or he's an actual fallen angel, or what -- Paul spoke of principalities and powers, and I take Paul at his word.
And that son-of-a-bitch is tryin' to get right up in my face today, and he better back the hell off.
This past weekend, I was about as low as I've been in a long time. I miss my wife (been in Boulder for almost 11 months now). I miss my mama (a year and five days ago, she took an ambulance ride from Oklahoma City to Arkansas, and we all were in the last throes of desire for her to recover -- I say "desire" because I'm trying keep in mind the difference between "desire" and "hope.")
I have have clung to my damned ol' self, my sense of self, my roots here, and my irrational attachment to place until I'm worn the hell out. Can't do it no mo -- not no mo.
So, with trepidation, I got up this morning, after another night of tossing and turning, and with the help of a dose of renewed faith that always comes along during Lent, if you look for it, I took a moment with a devotional book, laughed out loud at the sheer lunacy of believing God gives a rip about my feelings, or my sense of loss, or my sense of dread, and I dang near just threw the book across the room.
But I didn't. I stood up from the edge of the bed, then dropped and touched my knees to the floor, stood up and again and yelled:
I DARE YOU TO HELP ME WITH THIS. AND I DARE MYSELF TO LET YOU. I REJECT THE GUILT I HAVE BECAUSE I HAPPENED TO BE BORN IN THIS PLACE AT THIS TIME, AND NOT SOME THIRD-WORLD VILLAGE WHERE ANYONE WHO LIVES IS LUCKY TO BE ALIVE. I DARE TO ACCEPT PRACTICAL GRACE AS WELL AS ETERNAL GRACE. GOD HELP ME TO HELP OTHERS, AND LOVE OTHERS, AND GIVE OF MYSELF FOR OTHERS. BUT GOD YOU PUT ME HERE, NOW, AND IF IT'S ALL THE SAME TO YOU, I'LL LET YOU HELP ME NOW, BECAUSE IT REALLY IS ALL THE SAME TO YOU.
Or something like that.
And I laughed at myself, and I got in the shower whistling, and I threw my back out. So I'm working from home today.
And that ol' debble can take his principalities and powers and shove 'em. I mean, evil is one thing, but he's just bein' a pain in the ass, and I don't have time or energy for another one.
Shoving on. Going through hell, not slowing down.
End "positive" rant.
From Catherine of Sienna's dialogue with God:
I talk about it sometimes with Him, all the suffering in the world.
"Dear God," I have prayed, "how is it possible
all the horrors I have seen, all the atrocities you allow man
to commit when you--God--are ever standing
so near and could help us?
Could we not hear your voice say 'No'
with such love and power
never again would
we harm?"
And my Lord replied, "Who would understand if I said that I
cannot bear
to confine a wing, and not let it learn from the course it chooses."
But what of a man walking lost in a forest
weeping and calling your name for help, and unknown to him he
is heading for a covered pit with sharp spears in it
that will maim his flesh when he crashes
through the trap?
"Yes, why don't I remove every object from this world that could
cause someone to weep? Yes, why don't I speak in a way
that could save a life?”
I opened up my mouth and the Infinite ran to the edges of space--
and all possibilities are contained therein, all possibilities,
even sorrow.
”In the end, nothing that ever caused one pain will exist,
No one will begrudge Me.
The Absolute Innocence of all within my Creation
takes a while to understand."
~ Catherine of Siena
(1347-1380)
But whether the ol' debble ("devil") is just a personification of evil, or he's an actual fallen angel, or what -- Paul spoke of principalities and powers, and I take Paul at his word.
And that son-of-a-bitch is tryin' to get right up in my face today, and he better back the hell off.
This past weekend, I was about as low as I've been in a long time. I miss my wife (been in Boulder for almost 11 months now). I miss my mama (a year and five days ago, she took an ambulance ride from Oklahoma City to Arkansas, and we all were in the last throes of desire for her to recover -- I say "desire" because I'm trying keep in mind the difference between "desire" and "hope.")
I have have clung to my damned ol' self, my sense of self, my roots here, and my irrational attachment to place until I'm worn the hell out. Can't do it no mo -- not no mo.
So, with trepidation, I got up this morning, after another night of tossing and turning, and with the help of a dose of renewed faith that always comes along during Lent, if you look for it, I took a moment with a devotional book, laughed out loud at the sheer lunacy of believing God gives a rip about my feelings, or my sense of loss, or my sense of dread, and I dang near just threw the book across the room.
But I didn't. I stood up from the edge of the bed, then dropped and touched my knees to the floor, stood up and again and yelled:
I DARE YOU TO HELP ME WITH THIS. AND I DARE MYSELF TO LET YOU. I REJECT THE GUILT I HAVE BECAUSE I HAPPENED TO BE BORN IN THIS PLACE AT THIS TIME, AND NOT SOME THIRD-WORLD VILLAGE WHERE ANYONE WHO LIVES IS LUCKY TO BE ALIVE. I DARE TO ACCEPT PRACTICAL GRACE AS WELL AS ETERNAL GRACE. GOD HELP ME TO HELP OTHERS, AND LOVE OTHERS, AND GIVE OF MYSELF FOR OTHERS. BUT GOD YOU PUT ME HERE, NOW, AND IF IT'S ALL THE SAME TO YOU, I'LL LET YOU HELP ME NOW, BECAUSE IT REALLY IS ALL THE SAME TO YOU.
Or something like that.
And I laughed at myself, and I got in the shower whistling, and I threw my back out. So I'm working from home today.
And that ol' debble can take his principalities and powers and shove 'em. I mean, evil is one thing, but he's just bein' a pain in the ass, and I don't have time or energy for another one.
Shoving on. Going through hell, not slowing down.
End "positive" rant.
From Catherine of Sienna's dialogue with God:
I talk about it sometimes with Him, all the suffering in the world.
"Dear God," I have prayed, "how is it possible
all the horrors I have seen, all the atrocities you allow man
to commit when you--God--are ever standing
so near and could help us?
Could we not hear your voice say 'No'
with such love and power
never again would
we harm?"
And my Lord replied, "Who would understand if I said that I
cannot bear
to confine a wing, and not let it learn from the course it chooses."
But what of a man walking lost in a forest
weeping and calling your name for help, and unknown to him he
is heading for a covered pit with sharp spears in it
that will maim his flesh when he crashes
through the trap?
"Yes, why don't I remove every object from this world that could
cause someone to weep? Yes, why don't I speak in a way
that could save a life?”
I opened up my mouth and the Infinite ran to the edges of space--
and all possibilities are contained therein, all possibilities,
even sorrow.
”In the end, nothing that ever caused one pain will exist,
No one will begrudge Me.
The Absolute Innocence of all within my Creation
takes a while to understand."
~ Catherine of Siena
(1347-1380)
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And before any of you ol' cynics jump ugly on me, note: I ain't askin' for deliverence, magic, or mountains to be moved.
Just a little moral support from On High, so to speak, as I pry my cold dead fingers off of my pride.
Just a little moral support from On High, so to speak, as I pry my cold dead fingers off of my pride.
Sorry. Local dialect is lost on teh Internets sometimes.
I HAVE, however, knowed the ol' debble to come around disguised as a wimmins.
I HAVE, however, knowed the ol' debble to come around disguised as a wimmins.
Sigh. I should probably clarify this, too, since some folks of a Yankified persuasion might misunderstand.
"Debble" and "wimmins" might appear to be black dialect. But it's po-mountain-unedumucated-ungrammatical dialect of any color.
(Had an editor accuse me of using a racist phrase in a column once: "cotton-picking."
Ask an older lady reporter of mkine in Texas, a white woman, how racist "cotton picking" is.
Heck, ask DrLobojo!
"Debble" and "wimmins" might appear to be black dialect. But it's po-mountain-unedumucated-ungrammatical dialect of any color.
(Had an editor accuse me of using a racist phrase in a column once: "cotton-picking."
Ask an older lady reporter of mkine in Texas, a white woman, how racist "cotton picking" is.
Heck, ask DrLobojo!
That wuz a heckova reply, wadn'it? (that's my attempt at my native accent. Ugh, I should stop.)
What I love about scripture: you're simultaneously so tiny in the grand scheme of things (i.e. where were you when God laid the foundations) and yet more important than the falling sparrow that God is watching. Huh, does God do more than just watch the sparrow? i suppose that's what solidarity is, just recognizing you're a human bean, and standing by your side as you muddle through. You're being watched, not by a demonic Santy Claus that's monitoring your every move and checking off your naughty moments, but lovingly, by someone who knows all the twists and turns of your life and psyche, gets what's going on with you, and enjoys you enough to come back and watch somemore.
Sorry, that's just me goin off on a quasi-theological tear. We're doin' the trinity in theology class this week an' it's got me thinkin.
Why is it that I really do want to write in dialect when I comment here? It must be because we're from the same end of the state and our accents jive, and you bring it out in me even online.
What I love about scripture: you're simultaneously so tiny in the grand scheme of things (i.e. where were you when God laid the foundations) and yet more important than the falling sparrow that God is watching. Huh, does God do more than just watch the sparrow? i suppose that's what solidarity is, just recognizing you're a human bean, and standing by your side as you muddle through. You're being watched, not by a demonic Santy Claus that's monitoring your every move and checking off your naughty moments, but lovingly, by someone who knows all the twists and turns of your life and psyche, gets what's going on with you, and enjoys you enough to come back and watch somemore.
Sorry, that's just me goin off on a quasi-theological tear. We're doin' the trinity in theology class this week an' it's got me thinkin.
Why is it that I really do want to write in dialect when I comment here? It must be because we're from the same end of the state and our accents jive, and you bring it out in me even online.
"Give us help from trouble, For the help of man is useless."
Psalms 60:11
Cotton pickin is the curse of poor people since the Pharaohs, but it ain't racist.
Debble and wimmins are probably remnants of of Elizabethan English that have been hiding in the hills of America.
Psalms 60:11
Cotton pickin is the curse of poor people since the Pharaohs, but it ain't racist.
Debble and wimmins are probably remnants of of Elizabethan English that have been hiding in the hills of America.
Hapa: I consider my back gettin' throwed out as evidence of God's touch. Jacob got his hip broke. I got my back throwed out. Go figure. :-)
And, I accept SuperPastor's interpretation of the water-walking story: Sink or swim, Jesus loves me.
And I accept the meaning of the sparrow story: God's eye is on the sparrow as it falls -- all the way to the ground. His love for it is unaltered.
I'm teddin' ya, I figgered my not-yet-revealed-here Lenten thing this year might get me more than I bargained for ... But dang.
DrLobo: Nice, timely verse there. Thanky.
And, I accept SuperPastor's interpretation of the water-walking story: Sink or swim, Jesus loves me.
And I accept the meaning of the sparrow story: God's eye is on the sparrow as it falls -- all the way to the ground. His love for it is unaltered.
I'm teddin' ya, I figgered my not-yet-revealed-here Lenten thing this year might get me more than I bargained for ... But dang.
DrLobo: Nice, timely verse there. Thanky.
Oh, Hapa: Many thanks for recommending that "Love Poems from God." I fell for Catherine of Sienna in my grad class on the Reformation. Tickled to see some of her stuff in there.
Correct me if I'm wrong, ER, but I see this as you attempting to let go of things you cannot control and place them in God's hands, even though you desparately want to control your thoughts, your emotions and the things that are just outside of your grasp.
The funny part is that we, as humans, don't like to relinquish control. Given that, even those of us with faith have trouble letting go, even though we are supposed to know better.
Of course, then you go daring God. Be sure to ice that back. :-)
The funny part is that we, as humans, don't like to relinquish control. Given that, even those of us with faith have trouble letting go, even though we are supposed to know better.
Of course, then you go daring God. Be sure to ice that back. :-)
You see clearly, grasshoppa.
But God takes kindly to bein' dared. Jacob's broke hip, and my wrenched back -- those're love taps. :-)
Just tryin' to get God out of my head for awhile -- and no, not into "my heart," as useful as that metaphor can be. Into my life. Been stuck on high center too long.
But God takes kindly to bein' dared. Jacob's broke hip, and my wrenched back -- those're love taps. :-)
Just tryin' to get God out of my head for awhile -- and no, not into "my heart," as useful as that metaphor can be. Into my life. Been stuck on high center too long.
Daring God? Nah. Just submitting. I do like the whole wrenched back/broken hip thing - it does resound, doesn't it?
You have been in my prayers, buddy, since I read your post on Friday about your text-argument with the Mrs. Dr. I recognize the symptoms from my own life - the struggle inside that creates a struggle outside. Just remember this - even though it's pat, trite, cliche, and sometimes even not true in individual instances in life - love is never wrong, and as long as we fight for it over our own selfish fears and desires (with a dollop of assistance from on High) we have nothing to fear. Not even the debble.
You have been in my prayers, buddy, since I read your post on Friday about your text-argument with the Mrs. Dr. I recognize the symptoms from my own life - the struggle inside that creates a struggle outside. Just remember this - even though it's pat, trite, cliche, and sometimes even not true in individual instances in life - love is never wrong, and as long as we fight for it over our own selfish fears and desires (with a dollop of assistance from on High) we have nothing to fear. Not even the debble.
De nada, ER, and in fact I broke out my copy the other day and was reading Rabia poems. And you made me giggle with the comparison to Jacob, bad biblical scholar wannabe I am, I totally didn't think to say it first!
Thanks, GKS.
Hapa: Ha! One thing the Babtists do, or used to anyway, is teach their young'uns to read the Bible, the whole Bible and dang near nothin' but the Bible as one walks on this here Pilgrim Way. :-)
Cracks me up, to this day, how fast I can find the Scripture readin's at church.
Baptist Bible drills, baby!
Hapa: Ha! One thing the Babtists do, or used to anyway, is teach their young'uns to read the Bible, the whole Bible and dang near nothin' but the Bible as one walks on this here Pilgrim Way. :-)
Cracks me up, to this day, how fast I can find the Scripture readin's at church.
Baptist Bible drills, baby!
ER,
Hope things start looking up for you soonish!
Just remember, whatever comes, you have what you need! Ain't that a promise?
It's written in creation for all to see, and I even believe it says something about it down there in your Bible somewhere! :-)
Hope things start looking up for you soonish!
Just remember, whatever comes, you have what you need! Ain't that a promise?
It's written in creation for all to see, and I even believe it says something about it down there in your Bible somewhere! :-)
# posted by 
: 8:36 PM
: 8:36 PM
Go to Colorado. You need to be in Colorado.
It's hard as heck picking up and leaving friends, family and a career behind, but it's worth it. Believe me.
We only have so many days to spend with our spouses. You don't want to waste that precious time.
She's worth it.
It's hard as heck picking up and leaving friends, family and a career behind, but it's worth it. Believe me.
We only have so many days to spend with our spouses. You don't want to waste that precious time.
She's worth it.
# posted by : 8:27 PM
: 8:27 PM
:-) ... sniff-sniff ... I know it.
It's been dang hard.
Not whining! True fact!
But as I done went and told Dr. ER yesterday: The Oklahoma City & Denver Railway is open for bidness and I am drivin' the train now.
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It's been dang hard.
Not whining! True fact!
But as I done went and told Dr. ER yesterday: The Oklahoma City & Denver Railway is open for bidness and I am drivin' the train now.
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