My Wicked Sense of Humor

I come by my wicked sense of humor honestly... both my parents are hilarious, in very different ways. My mother gave me my sense of irreverence. In the '80s there were these bumper stickers that were very popular: "My [ex-husband, ex-wife, boss, etc] is in the trunk." She wanted to get one and then attach one of these to the trunk:

From that point forward, she created a monster. If I ever offend you accidentally, know that I meant you no harm. If you are still offended knowing that, your loss.

The presence of God?

I regularly ponder the presence of God in our daily lives. I am troubled by the issue of free will vis a vis omnipresence. An Islamic Imam posed one possible explanation: that life is like an improv play- God sets the stage, gives general direction, and will yell "Cut!" when your scene is done; how you choose to get through your scene is up to you.

This is what I was wearing when

James prayed that God had no

hand in selecting the outfit.

Yet, this leaves me wondering- how present is God in my life? I have no doubt that it was Providence that has guided me here to Atlanta, but does God care whether I get stuck in traffic or not?

In seminary we have very deep conversations in a very lighthearted way. While at a Tacky Christmas Sweater Party with my classmates, we were debating the issue of Providence. I was up on my metaphorical soapbox, passionately debating both sides of the argument, when I asked, "does God really care what I wear?" Without missing a beat, my friend James retorts, "with what you're wearing, I certainly hope not."

I would love to hear your thoughts. How present is God in your life? Where do you fall on the issue of Providence?

A prayer we can all relate to...

From St. Teresa of Avila:

Lord,
Thou knowest better than I myself
that I am growing older and will someday be old.
Keep me from fatal habit of thinking
I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.

Release me from craving to
straighten out everybody's affairs.

Make me thoughtful but not moody;
helpful but not bossy.

With my vast store of wisdom,
it seems a pity not to use it all;
but Thou knowest, Lord,
that I want a few friends at the end.
Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details;
give me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips on my aches and pains;
they are increasing, and love of rehearsing them
is becoming sweeter as the years go by.

I dare not ask for improved memory,
but for a growing humility and a lessening cock-sureness
when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others.
Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet, for a sour old person
is one of the crowning works of the devil.

Squirrel Hunting?

I live in a condominium complex within the Atlanta city limits. It seems recently that our squirrel population has exploded. Where I'm from in Maryland, we have foot Basseting/ Beagling, which is the sport of hunting hare on foot with a pack of hounds. I propose that we organise all the neighborhood dogs and start to hunt squirrel.

Preposterous you say? I say nay. I have heard that squirrel is good eating, similar to rabbit (hossenfeffer). I just read an article that squirrels are now likely assisting in the spread of Lyme disease. Not to mention that they taunt my poor dog, smack talking him, just out of reach.

Tally Ho!