IT'S THE DOING IT THAT MATTERS

I'm beginning to believe that every word we utter is a prayer, and what we get is what we prayed for...especially the unintentionals that we get.

I said in passing, a throwaway line in truth, that I'd like to be able to do like Jesus did when he stood accused before Pontius Pilate...stood silently before his judge.

I am here to state that since I blathered that (now I see) bald-faced lie, I have been slandered, judged, found wanting and marginalized. Marginalized is just a fancy word for ignored, and, who's kidding whom, that is the worst.

I've got to say, I can find it funny when I take the time to see it as an answered prayer. But my ego, dear old Lucy, is writing a script to use to get a certain person told even as I type. 

I was led to read George Will's column this morning, and he nailed it...he wrote that Americans are addicted to indignation, and I identified from my toenails up. I regret that I identify, but there it is.

The thing is, it is that addiction to indignation that can lead me to crash-and-burn...hopeless despair, the necessary end-up place because I know from my eyebrows up what I need to do: Trust God, clean house, help others. 

Or, love and laugh.

Thank you.