Sunday, June 14, 2009

Some things begin to make sense.

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I have always suspected that the people I discuss here read here. They do not always understand and sometimes what I write here, which does not differ from what I tell them directly, can be bitter or sweet or such, but it is more potent as they are more able to review what I think more easily, through various moods of their own, and beyond how they might simply initially receive the material, unlike when it is spoken. It is like comparing a letter to a conversation. How much do we miss in the conversation due to emotional upset or cheer that we cannot miss from reading a letter? I would guess the difference can be as high as 70 percent.

I think my lady friend reads here often now. I do not see her footprint because the computer she uses is highly protected. And, I would guess my mother does so as well, perhaps other family members and friends also read here. I do not think my lady friend always understands what is written here. I do think she is thrilled to know someone cares for her, really and truly. And, I think good or bad, she loves seeing her 'nude in prose' in near print. My mother has another translate for her. The one I suspect does this, does it from an engineering educated farmer's perspective. Though solid, I think I baffle the translator not too infrequently himself. I seem to have a unique perspective and sometimes odd way of saying things. More, I think, perhaps, one of my aunts reads and tries to understand on her own, and fails. She sees a monster or a confused ungrateful waif, not someone merely trying to figure out the world and writing about his search through life and the emotions and possibilities of what he sees therein, as is the real case.

I think, simply, I am more widely read than I would suspect. I realized, after putting up a few add-ons to my browser, I am no longer visible to my tracker. I suspect those types of add-ons are more common than what I had thought. Add in that when someone posts here, I do not always see their tracks. I wonder how read I am here in my local area, in my Church, and whatnot. Though not exactly a phenomena, I might be more commonly read than what I had thought. And, further, I am probably not anonymous at all. While somewhat embarrassing to a degree, I have moved passed that. As I have said, what I write here is nothing I would not, given the chance, say. And, nothing I have written here unless the notion passes, I do not say. Then again, I suppose, I am anonymous merely through a general lack of understanding. I will not say that is always not on purpose, I will say though that as much of it as not is merely because of who I am and my general nature. A 50/50 thing, I would guess.

I did not make it to church. I will attempt to make it sometime this week then. Thankfully, locally, there are daily Eucharistic Masses. I need to visit Home and be a party, once again, to right celebrations and prayer. It is my duty, but more, it is my deepest pleasure. I have no friend or family like the Holy Trinity and the Church. Or I should say, any family and friendship I have is merely an extension of those. And, it is my hope, that I am a link back to those from those further afield, just as I am held by those from closer into those. It is a strange kind of magic, miraculous in some ways, quite simple and plain in others, and multi-dimensional all about. It is God stuff.

I have finally settled, however. I have restored peace. I have prayed this day and the last several, for guidance, wisdom, charity, and more. I have let it be known of my great thankfulness and humility. The gifts in life and the call to life have not been missed. I have inventoried what I may, that which I give up, both pain and joy, and that which I and others need, healing devotion direction and succor, and of course and always, thanks for everything from simply having such a great God to His wonderful work and Love on our behalf, and the chance and call to be near such Holiness in the many ways.

My reward has been a healing balm and a renewed sense of meaning and purpose. So, tomorrow, with thanks and strength, I will again set about doing what I must do. I will look to hope and fellowship, caring and kindness, and the work at hand to the best of my abilities. And, I must say, the tears and tribulation were worth every effort I felt the need to take in order to restore senses, sanity, faith, and order. What splendid rose is not worth it's thorns?

2 comments:

  1. I love the last paragraph and especially the last line. ♥

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  2. I am not sure I can take credit for it, Jean. I sweated and bled, but more because I am weak than that I am strong or wise. I tried to walk without my crutch, fell, and skinned my knees. If because of a dream, but it is my dream and my mind after all. It just goes to show the difference between walking with and without God, I think.

    I am glad you found something in it for you. I think the roses are for everyone, if they can see beyond the thorns, or more, accept the thorns as a part of the whole? I hate these multiple choice questions! But the answers are in there somewhere. It is very good to have friends like you to seek those answers with.

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