nakedpastor
I’m exhausted. My friend’s funeral was today. I can’t drum up any energy for an interesting post. I’m just relaxing with Lisa right now. I feel the Spirit is pulling me down… deeper, deeper, deeper. I’ll see you all tomorrow. Read more
I’m exhausted. My friend’s funeral was today. I can’t drum up any energy for an interesting post. I’m just relaxing with Lisa right now. I feel the Spirit is pulling me down… deeper, deeper, deeper. I’ll see you all tomorrow. Read more
Jung, in his captivating autobiography, Memories, Dreams, Reflections, writes about a dream he had early in his life in which he sees a big turd fall out of heaven and crash through the roof of a church, totally demolishing it. He didn’t fully understand the meaning of this crude dream. Later though, he writes about his father, who was a clergyman: Once I heard him praying. He struggled desperately to keep his faith. I was shaken and outraged at once,... Read more
You see this tree, how beautiful he is. He is very tall and stands on a hill just outside my church study. I’ve looked at him every day for years, but only today did I notice him. You may be wondering why I call him “him”. I don’t know. But a good friend of mine a couple of years ago pointed that out to me when I was showing her another tree I admired. I said, “He’s my favorite tree!”... Read more
So my son Jesse comes home from school yesterday with condoms. They were passed out in Life class. I passed out when I saw them. He was laughing. I wasn’t. He said, “Just on time for Valentine’s Day!” I said, “Ya, right!” He said he was going to go to the sex shop in town and get some toys. I said, “Ya, right!” I remember when this 6’3″ dude was being given his birds and the bees talk years ago.... Read more
I am reading a delightful little book by Brenda Ueland, If You Want to Write. A Book About Art, Independence and Spirit. Bloggers: get it. Readers: get it. It is the best book I’ve ever read on writing and the best book I’ve ever read that inspires my artistic passion. Anyway, in it she writes about a woman she admires named Francesca. She speaks truthfully, directly, honestly: She always plunges right into the middle of a truth, never leading up... Read more
For the love of beauty. That’s why I’m doing what I’m doing now. I love beauty. And I will call beautiful whatever I want to. This is what I love. Sunday night Lisa and I had Sarah and her mom Sandy over. Sarah was so sad. She didn’t bother to get out of her pajamas for days. “That’s healthy!” Lisa assured her. We invited them over to watch the Grammys. I bought a bunch of special beers from Checkoslovakia, France... Read more
To the heights! To the summits of seraphic perfection, strong holiness, sweaty saintliness! Reach, reach! My muddy arm stretches up, up, up, clutching an idea, a lofty ideal, to pull from the dregs my smudgy soul. It glances across (my futuring eye) to grab-marks in the soil, from yesterday’s attempts in the same style. The shock loosens my striving grip, and slides me back down to myself and I weep a joyful sadness. I find myself lost in grace once... Read more
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