A Unicyclical On Prayer.

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I am not the Pope. Therefore, I do not get to issue Encyclicals for you to read. I’m more of a one-wheel sort of stooge. So you get Unicyclicals. I just made up a word. Live with it. Kind of like this post: it may or may not trip your trigger, but it will be short and to the point.

Why do we pray? Well, in … never mind. I’m not going to give you some phony scriptural reference I’d have to look up anyway. I know the Bible has a lot to say about how we pray and why we pray. I read it and have heard about it for years. (Not the whole book, just the really good parts. I’m still working on staying awake during some genealogical stuff in the early chapters. Not to criticize, but there is a lot of backstory – I digress.)

We pray because we need God’s help or we want to thank Him. We pray because someone or something (like a relationship) is broken and we need His help in fixing the damage done. We pray for a lot of reasons.

We often forget the one I find most important in my life: Love.

Jesus sent us out to love our fellow man as we love ourselves and as He loves us. (*In Hollywood and Washington there is virtually no difference between the self and God if you were to take a poll. Like the old joke goes, what’s the difference between God and -fill in the blank? God doesn’t think He’s a Senator.) Prayer is such a special and important part of that love and it is often overlooked.

How can that be? Most Christians are a bit reluctant about praying over someone in public. God has, fortunately, blessed me with being a bull-headed follower who will drop to his knees in prayer, or ask to hold hands upon demand. I even do that churchy thing where you hold your hand out, palm toward the recipient, and pray out loud with your eyes closed. If you really get me in a lather I’ll break out the anointing oil on my key ring and give you a slick on the forehead.

So what. Just showing off what a Ned Flanders I am, correct? Perhaps this will clarify:

No. I really mean to do good with this prayer. Here’s how:

1. God listens when we pray. He may not give us what we’re asking for, but He’s listening.

2. By praying over a troubled soul we show that we accord them the courtesy of listening. Our intercessory prayer means that we actually shut our mouth long enough to hear them speak their heart. It also means that we are willing to go out on a limb and pray over the guard at the parking ramp who looks troubled. Or over the waitress who seems ready to burst into tears. Or the friend we see from time to time who is so low that God is but a distant concept.

We step into His shoes, and act as His emissary as He commanded us to do.

I will probably be disciplined by some authority some day for praying over people. I have only one boss – He’s cool with it and has agreed to spend eternity working out the rewards and punishments based on my behavior. I’m willing to take that risk.

I’m asking that you do the same. Humble yourself to listen, not talk. Share from your soul with those in need. Pray over them. If you’re a Missionary Baptist (like me) try to keep the prayer under 27 minutes. Otherwise God’ll give you a bow tie and put you up in front of the congregation next week. I don’t have a bow tie. I keep it simple. (*For my Deacon friends, just kidding – you guys are amazing. I just run out of words in about two minutes.)

Take that leap of faith and help someone in need know that God is listening – He sent your ears, and your tongue, to let them know they matter to Him.

It’s a big job, but we all gotta do it.

(I had a great rant to go up instead of this, but it can wait. Praying over those in need simply won’t. Get busy!)

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Stormy The Gray Blur – But In A Different Way.

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Regular readers of this train-wreck will identify Stormy as my rescue Sheltie. She’s been living with us for about three years, and came to us in the wake of our losing Maisie, another female Sheltie. Maisie was a fiend for snuggling. Never a moment spent alone when she could be on your lap, sleeping on my bed, or getting her belly rubbed. Stormy was a two-time loser in the rescue business. Previous owners had not nice things to say about her. All lies, I’m sure, but she was coming to us with a history of unhappy life events.

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Now appearing at a snuggle near you.

Now appearing at a snuggle near you.

I have chronicled her progress from day one. At that point, she would not be in the same room with me unless she was dragged and bribed with snacks. That is one reason she is so fat. I have no excuse for my size, but hey, if the dog gets a snack why shouldn’t I?

I digress. We have now moved to the point where she is seeking close attention. Not just belly rubs (that started about month 4) but actually pawing at me if I’m ignoring her. God forbid I lay on the floor to watch a movie and she comes around. Either I pet her (she stands there waiting for her due) or I get clawed. I’ll pet.

The last few days she’s taken to cuddling. I think it’s the onset of the cold weather, no other significant event has intruded – wait a minute: I smell a rat. My wife had surgery last week and the dog has to keep clear of her or risk injuring the surgical site. That leaves me to do double duty. That little stinker is just waiting for my wife to be back in the game and is taking me on as a surrogate.

I’ll accept that – it might stick afterwards. It sure feels good to have her warm little (okay, medium-sized) body tucked up against me as we watch a flick.

Progress is slow. But worth all the work.

I hope you have a great day and a snuggle buddy in your life.
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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Breaking Yet Another Blogging Rule

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You may, or may not have, noticed over the past years that I don’t blog about my day job. The reason is simple: I don’t want to get fired. Today I break that rule, but only because I have something really nice to say and it could happen at most work sites.

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I have done shift work for a number of years. For the past 18 months I’ve been a day-worker on a shift that goes eight days on, six days off. Doing the math, you will note that I work every other weekend.

While I’m not a huge fan of that part of the deal, it does make things stable on the weekends for my employer. We’re a 24×7 operation and when you have the same two crews every weekend (there is another crew on the opposite rotation) it leads to a stable situation for the customers. ‘Nuff said about what I do and where I do it. Pretty generic.

I don’t like missing church. Because of my shift, and the time of service at my church, I only go about 2/5 of the time to my home church. Christmas season puts a big hole in my attendance, as people want Santa at their church parties, football games, etc., and there’s only five weekends in the Santa season. I miss other days due to travel, writer’s conferences, etc. But I love my church and they understand that making a living is important as well. I do attend services almost every week, just at another church that works for my schedule. God’s house is God’s house.

I also miss having Sunday dinner with my wife after church. I’m a pretty good cook and really enjoy making a special meal for us every week. But the weekends when I work it has been a time for pizza, sandwiches, and other fast food.

Until recently. A couple of months ago a few of us started having Sunday dinners at work. Started out simple, a crock pot full of chili and some bratwurst. Then it was drumsticks and potatoes in the crock pot. This last week I’m pretty sure we outdid ourselves with the meal.

I shop for the food on Friday, bring it in Saturday, and a coworker on the early shift throws it all in the pot to start it at seven in the morning Sunday. Ready to eat by 1:30 most days. Others bring a salad or desert.

The menu this week? Pork tenderloin surrounded by a bedding of maple/honey breakfast sausages, hash brown potatoes, and corn. Did I mention that I mummified the tenderloin in applewood bacon?

After cooking for five hours, I added a can of cream of celery, and a can of cream of mushroom soup to the pot. Let it simmer for about 45 minutes, and then added brown rice to soak up the extra moisture. All of this was heavily seasoned with curry, chili powder, and garlic powder.

Tuesday I finished the last of the leftovers. Rarely have I eaten so well at work for such an extended period. Best of all, it cost each of us $5.00 for the ingredients, including two loaves of French bread and butter.

It’s nice to break bread with good people. I miss my wife on those weekends, but the smell of good food wafting through the office takes a bit of sting out of those ten hour shifts.

Now if I could just figure out how to avoid doing the dishes afterward…

Be blessed and break bread with some people you love this week. And, as always, thanks for dropping by.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Ooooooooooh, I Love It When He Rants!

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Today we rant. I save these up for a long time and then dispose of them in one, giant, cathartic explosion of misanthropic bile. It is time to clear the body of ill humors.

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Let’s just go right to Facebook, the source of most of my anxiety. The following items are to be immediately banned from Facebook:

The 59th Regiment is no longer fighting in Iraq. I doubt that the last member of the 59th was anywhere near there – they vanished in around 1968. So quit asking me to share the post because they’ve been in combat for 3 solid days and those brave young men need your prayers. I know you found this on your late uncle’s timeline when you were clicking on your friends. He’s been dead for almost as long as the 59th. And it didn’t matter anyway that Justin Bieber got thousands of likes that day and why can’t these brave men get some likes.

No, I won’t keep the Santa Express going until Christmas. I hate that truck. Stupid thing has been around for years and I’m sick of seeing it – and somebody already got that little child a toy years ago.

Leave Home Depot/Menards/Target/Taco Bell, etc., alone. You weren’t there when some 19 year old jerk was rude to a veteran, or denied them a discount. First of all, I don’t remember anyone making it illegal to not give you a discount for your service. Yes, I like them when they’re offered. No, I don’t go bat-guano crazy if they don’t offer one to me. Let it die. Quit posting it – again, it’s been going around for years.

No kidding, somebody was kind enough to put a ladder up to the dumpster and let the bear get out. Great video the first two hundred times they posted it. Then again, anyone stupid enough to get that close to a wild animal that could put a serious hurt on them lacks something in the noggin. Nice gesture, but where were the other bears? Not one of them had a ladder? Seriously, if they’re that worth saving, they should mount their own rescue effort.

You, and your stupid click-bait link, should smolder in Hell for eternity. You know who you are: This amazing thing just happened and you won’t believe what Jesus did!!!!11!!1!

Pictures of your children, or any close relative, that you post to get a compliment are dangerous. Seriously, was there ever an infant that didn’t look more like Winston Churchill than your daughter?

More like him than anyone in your gene pool before 6 months.

More like him than anyone in your gene pool before 6 months.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it, but … well, I’ve no children but Stormy and she is rarely offended by your comments.
stormy, shetland sheepdog, rescue dog

She’s immune to your slights.

To my fellow authors: Yes, it’s lovely that your book is now available. I’m glad for you. But when you post that same thing every day for two months you’ve got to realize that we all write as well and putting it in the writer’s group every day is not selling many additional copies after about – once. This is not to discourage you from promoting your upcoming work in the group and looking for a launch team. That’s very much a great thing. But let’s not shill the thing every day in the writer’s forum. And, on your author page it gets a bit stale after a very short time. Try doing something that’s not for sale on your timeline. If I’m bored and I also write, can you imagine how your normal friends feel? (Be advised: when my books go on sale this goes out the window and it’s all good.)

I truly wish that the double-amputee combat veteran had read his homeowner association agreement before he bought that retirement home. I wish he could fly his flag as much as you do. But he signed a contract. End of story. Quit asking me to firebomb his association’s office or out myself as a commie. Read the fine print. Now, if it’s a city ordinance…

I will not hit share and wait 10 seconds to get my blessing. Who drew that graphic? It wasn’t your son Gerald, was it? The kid who ate dog food and thought he was a dolphin? That would explain a lot. Yes, I love Jesus, but passing that garbage on does not make me a a faithful Christian any more than not doing so makes me a worshiper of Baal.

I did read your Facebook post saying that white males are stupid, evil, vile beings. Duh, did you forget that you friended me a while ago? Thanks for the open admission that your a racist/sexist/whatever. People, use some control. If I’m (and everyone that looks like me or uses the same bathroom) that horrible, why do you also share with me the happy stuff, the pictures of your new baby (see item above) and pictures of your puppy? Drop me or act like a real friend.

I’d continue, but I need to go watch Netflix. I’m batting a thousand this past week on some seriously wonderful movies and documentaries. You can go back to Facebook. Make sure you put up that selfie from the bar. I love seeing you that way…

Until the next rant.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

The Wound Weeps.

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I’m going to ask a favor from all of you: say a kind word to someone today who’s hurting.

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What kind of hurting? I spent some quality time today with a beautiful woman who had lost her heart. She’s smart, funny, kind, strong, and devastated.

What could I do? I could pray with her. I could tell her that you can’t eat an elephant in one bite. I could do a lot of nothing for this fine person who’s young enough to be my daughter. Except try to point out how exceptional she is and that this will pass with time.

It was enough to get a smile after a while. Deep down, under all the hurt, there’s a spark that didn’t go out when her heart ruptured. She will rekindle that spark and turn it into a blazing fire down the road. She’ll someday smile at her grandchildren and hope that they never have a bad one like thisone. Because while you survive it you’re not sure you will for quite some time.

I drove home thinking about all of the people I know who are lonely, sad, divorcing, seeking, lost, hoping, and in need of that moment or two of time with someone who wants nothing from them, but is willing to share joy with them. There are a lot of them out there in this world.

I thank God that I’m not one of them. Truly, were it not for my beloved wife, I would be one of them. I was terribly shy with women before I met her all those years ago. A good indication of that is that she had to ask me to dance. She didn’t know what a can of worms she was opening with that simple request. Now she’s stuck with me. But if it weren’t for that moment 31 years ago and some change, I’d likely be in the crowd numbered above.

Am I that special that I should have a love like this? I rather doubt it. All of the people on my mind at this moment are special as well. Talented, kind, funny, mean, beautiful, ugly, and my friends. I think we all have those traits from time to time.

What should you do? Be kind when you see that hurt. Don’t rush on to the next thing on your list. Listen. Don’t fix, just listen and be a smile with eyes that don’t look away. Pray. Pray with them. Show them the abundance of love that God has shown you. Share that love: He didn’t put it in a bottle just for you to hide under a rug. You’ve got enough from Him to spread it around each day.

That’s all.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.