With the sun

It’s true that the morning brings perspective. The monsters under the bed have disappeared. The strange noises become recognizable. The nightmares fade away and are forgotten. Sunrise brings another beginning.

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following Your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please You does in fact please You. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this You will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are ever with me, and You will never leave me to face my perils alone.
(Thomas Merton)

Death or something like it

These may shorten your lifespan … but add to your life quality!
Do you have any others to suggest?

Death in a pan
4 Mars® bars
1/4-1/3 c. butter (or brick margarine)
5-6 c. Rice Krispies® or Corn Flakes®

1) Melt chocolate bars with butter over low heat or in microwave, stirring every 15-30 seconds.
2) Add cereal. Don’t worry about crushing some of it.
3) Press into light greased 9×9 pan.
4) Cool. Slice into small pieces. Enjoy.

Heart Attack Potatoes
1) Boil peeled potatoes with cloves of garlic. Remove garlic after boiling.
2) Mash potatoes with butter, sour cream (1/2 c. or more) and cream cheese (8 oz).
2.5) Feeling daring? Add fried bacon – crumbled.
3) Whip.
4) Serve and enjoy.

Results

Do not depend on the hope of results. When you are doing the sort of work you have taken on, essentially an apostolic work, you may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect.

As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results but on the value, the rightness, the truth of the work itself.

—Thomas Merton, in a letter to Jim Forest dated February 21, 1966

At the end

Work. We spend a lot of time there.
Some days are good. Some days are bad. Most days are a mix of both. (If you have a job that’s always good, please let me know. I might want to pursue something new.)

This week’s episode of House [5 to 9] had me on edge.
A day in the life of Dr Lisa Cuddy, a female hospital administrator. Juggling the work/life balance. Never having a moment to herself, never a moment to rest. Always another person, another problem, another stressful situation.

It felt familiar. I felt her pain: the tension, the inundation, the deluge.

But at the end of her day, it all worked out. Resolved. Settled. Calm.
Maybe the end of my day will be the same.

Expentancy

Expect. Anticipate. Await. Look forward to. Hope.

Your unborn child.
The library request.
An online order.
That job offer.

I know about waiting, expecting, anticipating. The feeling of holding your breath to see what happens. To hope beyond hope that something will occur. To know in that deep place of knowing that any news is better than none at all. To live between right now and a time to come. It is hard to wait.

So why doesn’t God fit in with all this expectancy? Why don’t my thoughts of God come with an inherent sense of urgency and longing? Sometimes they do. Too often they don’t.