It’s true that the dark is not always ‘friendly’ but there are treasures in the night—once you get your night vision.  One saint asks “what is more helpful to wisdom than the night?”

At their first encounter with super Wizard they’re thrown a curve and sent back out to get the broom of yet another witch—the land of OZ has got it’s dark side.  So the foursome go trudging off to get the broom.  But Dorothy, in those suspicious red shoes, the light begins to dawn on her. 

The circumstance surrounding this deeper experience often are finding one’s self at the end of your rope—with no knot; having run out of solutions, or being in the pits of despair and doubt ready to toss in the towel.  Even then it is not one size fits all.  Thinking it will happen the same for me as it did for ‘him’ or ‘her’ is a dead end.  

I think—wonder if, the draw to each other is we are fascinated with someone who sees stuff so differently.  We experience life from contrasting angles and it interests the other.  Glenn is near ninety and lost his wife a number of years ago. 

My attitude as a counselor myself about inner child theories had been skeptical at least if not just thinking it was bunk.  My therapists faced an uphill battle getting me to recognize this kid. 

We kept hearing ‘war stories' from other evacuees.  We heard only bits and pieces of what was happening in Jasper.  Two of the fires had come together, picked up speed and hit town Wednesday afternoon.  The fire entered the west side of town—the same route we exited.  (Now we know a third of the buildings in town were destroyed). 

Sadly, churches are sorely lacking as safe places to share honestly.  Too often under the guise of “I share this again as a prayer concern” confidence is breached in a thin disguise for gossip. 

I will probably be a searcher until I die and hopefully death itself will only be another adventure. To live any other way seems impossible— James Kavanaugh

So, I told mom what had happened since she had left—she had died Christmas-eve of 1991.  I filled her in on great-grandkids, one granddaughter named after her, Evie.   I told her about the life we had now after being married almost forty years. 

And what about the wierdos?  My teen-age daughters used to come home and talk about ‘that man’ in the church.  (Every church has one).  “Daddy, that man hugs all the girls with a funny hug.”  My reply: “When he does, rub your lipstick all over his shirt and let his wife straighten him out”.

until—we notice cracks.  Some, if not more of the teachings we heard were incomplete, inadequate if not even misleading.  Our own experience over those years did not support what we’d heard, what we’d been told.

Yesterday we buried one of the sweetest, most gentle men I’ve ever known.  Clyde was near the top of the list of the most encouraging people.  He was a greeter at the sanctuary door of our church for decades—shaking hands and hugging necks.  Even if you’d been gone for a good while, Clyde would remember your name.

I live in overthink. I have my whole life.  It is the disease of introspection.  As I overthink this, when it comes to my aspirations, I come down on the good side.  We do well to have a sense of aspiration, to imagine or to dream of what could be.  It’s been a good path for me—and many others who have created the lives, the culture we all live in the midst of.  

I would not change any of the choices I made.  I just wish these guys had lived a few years more until the drug cocktail was available enabling them to live a full life.  I’ve lived on to tell you just one of their stories here. 

This fellow finally barked out. “Why do all our conversations wind up talking about spiritual stuff!” I paused for a good while but finally said, “well, because I am one who doesn’t believe there is a secular reality vs a sacred reality, it’s ALL sacred”.

It’s the close of the Thanksgiving holiday.  Our daughters and families are back home.  There is an emotional letdown.  We are near the end of the leftovers.  I am sitting here this morning, fireplace going, fake candles lite (the good ones), my coffee cup just right, my mind wandering.  Things are pretty good.

I know commercially the season is a big money maker. I know it is the time where we are cajoled to think about others, to be kinder, more thoughtful and give to charities. I’m not out to change any of that. I just quietly asked, “God, is there another angle you’d like me to see?”

But most wrenching were the Stolpersteins, or stumbling stones. ‘Stumbling’ not so much that you trip over them, but that you must kneel down to read the inscription.

She would cut slits on all the edges and let her mothers tie the knots.  She knew my penchant for the Southwest and native Americans.  When she saw this fabric, she said it was me.  

Fear has always been used to control people. We will fear, guaranteed. We’ll likely get sucked into a deal or two promising everything, yet in the end, nothing. It’s about recognition of the emotion(s) moving me—envy, fear, sadness or jealously—and then not yielding to it. We are living in a fearFULL time.