Christ's Only Law

Dear Hearts

Quick and dirty tonight.

I am going to watch the VP debates and nuke my dinner before or during the opening bullshit. G-Pa is watching wrestling because “debates are boring” and they are. I just want Pence to take Kaine out to the woodshed and school him like an Old-Fashioned-Nun-School-Teacher.

“You shall love the Lord, your God,
with all your heart,
with all your being,
with all your strength,
and with all your mind,
and your neighbor as yourself.” Luke 10:25

Community.

It’s that fucking simple. Christ is talking about community and love. Now, before you think that the Neo-Flower-Power-Feeling-The-Bern-Millennials got to me, let me clarify.

Love God and your neighbor. Well, that’s why Catholics have confession. We sure the hell’s bells ain’t perfect. Why do you think God assigned everyone a Guardian Angel? Because of high unemployment? No, we need a Guardian Angel. Thanks, Jed.

I volunteered for Burning Bed today. I basically walked the beat handing out small stacks of postcards to businesses. The postcards give the basic information and services of Burning Bed. I didn’t want to do it this morning, but I’m glad I did. It felt like I was useful.

“Hello, I’m Kate and I’m with Burning Bed. Would you mind putting out some of these postcards with information a Burning Bed for National Domestic Abuse Violence Awareness month?...Thank you. I really appreciate it. Have a great day.”

I will be saying that in my sleep. 

A lot of the work done for Burning Bed is done by volunteers because The State Budget doesn’t think much of social services in election/budget time. Now, yes, I have an ulterior motive. I want to have a paying job there at some point, but I resented none of the work I did today. I felt proud of it?

When I went into Common Scents, a store that my mom and I frequent. The owners specialize in natural oils, candles, and soaps. Penny and I have talked over the last four years. She knows about a lot of my troubles. She probably knows more than I think she does thanks to ECT.

I told her that I was living here and doing good. She said that she was so relieved. That she had prayed for me and thought about me so often. Sometimes, she felt I was in danger and just poured the prays out to God for me. She hugged me. (A real hug-and I am not a stranger-hugger.) She said again how relieved she was that I was here and safe.

I don’t really know this woman. But, here she was sincerely caring about me. Praying for me. Thinking of me. What had I ever done to deserve such compassion from her? I think we share a similar background. Altruism. The Late-Great Dr. Fitzgerald told me in college that altruism did not exist—if you did something for someone else expecting no return, subconsciously you wanted to get something out of it—even if were feeling good.

He was wrong. Penny lived Christ.

Later I slipped away to the graveyard to visit Gram. I am reading a book about Queen Esther and I had the best iced-coffee in The Holy City thanks to Aunt Faerie’s gift certificate. Some people passed me in my car—windows and doors open and gave me dirty looks, like “Ew. Why are you blocking the road weirdo?” Um, just go around the little block, really. It’s okay. My second-hand smoke will not kill your endorphin-runner’s high. And, my Elantra is not an enemy of the state.

A woman stopped by and asked if I were okay. She knew I was related to G-Pa. Shit. Four minutes to go time. She said that she found being in the graveyard so peaceful and she was so glad I was living here now. I assured her that I need G-Pa as much as he needed me. She said God works that way. She is with the grief group at the hospital and surely knew Gram, who worked with hospice. She also goes to the same church as G-Pa. “I’m sorry for being nosey, but I just like to ask if people are okay. Most of the time, they are, but sometimes, they aren’t and just need someone to talk to.” Again she reiterated how wonderful it was that I was here and what a great man G-Pa was. She totally got the comfort of the graveyard. She walking in Christ’s footsteps. Doing His work.

Again, what did I do to deserve such compassion?

I guess I try to give it out—like visiting people who are lonely because they have no one else. I ain’t no fucking saint. But, I try.

So maybe—what you give out is what you get back?

Then what did I deserve to be punished so badly the last four years? On the other hand, what did I do to be so blessed to have such love and support through these sorrowful years?

“So somewhere in my youth or childhood I must have done something good.”

Go time. Facial discipline. OMG. God save America. Can I just say I wouldn’t kick Pence outta my bed for wearing shoes in the house. And, Kaine, well I’d tell him to sit down, stop talking, and pay attention. Are you kidding me? Hillary picked him so he’d be no threat. He’ll get a Scooby Snack afterward if he does good! She promised!

God? THANKS for all my blessings—so many they are—and so undeserving I am.

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel.

PS: Sorry about lack of proof reading. Pence is smacking Kaine upside the head. That can of Whup-Ass has been opened and it ain't gonna be closed!