They are beautiful, aren’t they? Sure would be nice. If they were yours, but they aren’t. You don’t know, you just… know.  Too beautiful… placid. Conventional. Why?
Beautiful melodies but in an ethereal (no pun intended) Melody with just enough beautiful, coordinated discordance that it sounds just foreign enough.
It’s really not fair. All manner of things that aren’t fair. Pretty much every aspect of your life that doesn’t have to do with love… unfair. In your favor.
Alcoholism killed your grandfather, From what dad said blissfully before you were born. Jackass wife-beating POS. Although fascinatingly just maybe two years ago dad mentioned that he had paranoid schizo tendencies and once even allowed himself to be hospitalized. Well for a little while. Always thought someone was after him. Hated Jews. The town drunk. Dad was the star running back of the football team and the bastard only showed up wants to watch his son play – and booed him.
Probably could tell even then how amazing the man would end up being and could see nothing but jealousy for him. Drinking himself to hatred of his own son.
A former army cook in World War II. The only picture you ever saw of him was terrifying because of how much he looked like dad – but… like his opposite. Evil doppelgänger. Because dad swore he would never be like him.
How many of your freaking blessings came from the town drunk’s effect on your dad? Bizarre.
Like when Crow mentioned what you had always wondered about Judas since you were a kid… wondering whether or not his duplicity was not just part of God’s plan, But like he had been “assigned” the task to make sure Jesus could die for our sins…
So funny that she brought that up when it was literally something that weighed on your heart when you were a kid but later buried because you always prefer questions to answers.
So, your wife beating jackass grandfather… hysterical because you grew up calling your father “daddy” because he was insecure with being called “dad” because that’s what he called the jackass. So funny that kids at school making fun of you in like the sixth grade for still calling him “daddy” made you have one of the first adult conversations, ask him to call him “dad”.
Who the hell was this guy? Died at age 59 before you were born. Not even sure if mom met him, but probably not because dad would not have cared for that too much. Whatever. Dad even today is terrified you carry the gene of vulnerability to alcoholism that doomed your granddad.
Nope. Blessed. Yet again…
The exact opposite effect. A desire to celebrate. To praise God. To sing. Dance. Love. Inspire.  The idea of hurting anything other than inanimate objects in this state of mind is foreign.
No wonder you can’t comprehend what alcoholism is. The worst thing alcohol leads you to is a hangover after having a wonderful evening enjoying YouTube, remixes of clair de lune, colorful disco balls, and the company of nothing but two cats and a deity.
Blessings.
Why is it this way for you? And yet… so destructive for her?  You’re not a genius but you’re not stupid, either. You understand enough to see the truth… and there’s not a damn thing you can do but be thankful for the toehold of Sunday mornings.
How quickly you would give up this blessing for her to give up her curse… yet another thing you would give...
You’ve been steering clear for a few reasons. Because you didn’t want to stand in God’s way with your own biases. And yet… figuring out what He wants continues to be an exercise in 12-D chess. Just enough unintentional barbs hitting your baggage to push you away.
Come on. Seriously. It’s His time. To speak to her. She is listening isn’t she? She is seeking Him with all of her heart, From Jeremiah 29:13, isn’t she? What do you have to offer? Generic “beginner level” Platitudes from someone who can’t even read the Bible without help to bounce it off of?
Claire de Lune. You do like this version. It’s not your song though. Not your end credits. It will be so beautiful if one day it was hers though… when it’s time. As in long from now. The gorgeous melodies and tones can’t hold a candle to the beauty you see in her soul, so there’s probably something better. End credits for Home. Has she ever heard hers before? It’s so odd, even now what she treats as fact in how she knows you, you still hold reservations on. Which is quite ironic because deep down in the tiniest corner of your soul… something lines up with it.
So what’s with all the doubt? Is it doubt? Or is it something else? An almost instinctive ordering of priority? Do you doubt that there was a past? Or is there a part of you that might acknowledge it but refuse to give attention to it because it opens the door to failing again and being stuck?
Goodness can you imagine what it would be like to have to go around again? Would people even be people a century from now? Would they be born with implants like a Star Trek villain? Born into a collapsed world right out of Orwell where conformity of thought is demanded by those who know better? Maybe even your thoughts could be monitored like social media algorithms do now… and you get your food ration if you agree with what the corporations tell you to agree with? It’s not like social credit systems aren’t being mentioned here and there in authoritarian circles.
LOL, yeah… you were a kid in the 80s, teen in the 90s, saw the birth of the Internet after the first death of communism. even in just the time you have lived you have been so blessed.
The very idea of going around again 100 years from now? Yeah no thanks. Especially when you have your desires set on Being With God. The Next Life.
So beautiful, peaceful, and not likely to be lobotomized by implants, lol…
Beautiful colors… disco ball… 😂 Just a slight blessed buzz… what do you need anything else for? The warmth of the music caresses your shoulders. The echo of the notes massage your spirit. It’s not fair. Of course it’s not fair.
It’s so easy for you. Feeling all the blessings of your life. Two wonderful parents that raised you to know where they came from so you could be thankful for them, realizing you were going to have to fight the part of you that was spoiled. Don’t ever act like you’re home free though – you know how quickly you can fall. How quickly you have fallen.
It’s not like you aren’t one hell of a sinner. Who isn’t? Stay grounded. Thirst for the Word. Seriously – Why would you not? What’s wrong?
What’s wrong?
It’s the music. It’s not your end credits.
It’s not hers either. It is nice and peaceful though. 🙂 Maybe it once was… who knows…
In a past that doesn’t matter unless there’s a part that you could learn from to not repeat mistakes… 🤔
What do you would give… to share this moment with her…
And for the first time in…years… you actually don’t know what accent Love speaks with in said desire…
Lord, please watch over her in her time of need. Comfort her lungs when they tighten without her noticing as stress seeks to strangle her. May the traffic make it a slight pain to swing by the red dots on the way home. Just enough to remind her… to give her a little bit more strength to consider another cat tower…
If your pattern holds true, something will end up happening soon to drive this heart straight to her. As it always does when it finds freedom from growing weak at the sight of her smile.
Last time it was a dream of a mansion and turning away from riches for her; as if wealth could hold a candle to happiness. 😂
 thank you for the wisdom imparted to me that I don’t have to have a clue how your stupid plan works 😂 I just need to have faith in You, and it will.
Let my heart bathe in the warmth of the peace of mind of Faith… it doesn’t have to understand anything to know your Love surrounds each and every one of us… we just need to breathe it in….
And thanks for the cat. 🙂
It’s Not a Frame of Mind 