One more day....

Today is one more day. One more to be a better parent. One more day to be a loving wife. One more day to let go of anger. One more day to truly understand what it means to be in a relationship with love.

I read, "The Shack" recently, and while not the most intelligently or elegantly written novel ever produced,it is a moving and mind-altering parable about Christian beliefs; a beautiful realization of the holy Trinity, and our relationship with ourselves and therefore with God.

My relationship with a God of love is based in the Catholic faith. A faith I grew up in, came to abhore, and, ultimately and surprisingly, returned to as a source of great comfort in my maturity. Being Catholic is not easy. For so many reasons. From the personal challenge of living a just and selfless life, and then the politics of pain that we are all enduring and healing from because of the actions of a small sick celibacy that recruited damaged men.

Catholics are so overwhelmed with the public idea of who we are, that we have gone underground in our belief system rather than be hung, tarred, and feathered like witches and baby-eaters. No one talks of their beliefs anymore. We fear ridicule and the instant assumption that we must be fanatics without intelligence, independence, or mental stability. People think that if we bring up our faith we will attack them like the Amway lady, and insist on converting them to our cult on the spot. They assume faith equals denial of rational thought.

But our faith is the lens through which we focus on the love around us. It is not a priest, or even a doctrine that tells us who we are. It is a community coming together to learn about the greater mysteries of the universe. To touch for just a moment an intangible thought and idea. It is a chance to glimpse the outstretched hand of light and love that permeates every atom of space and the mysteries beyond.

To have good people in the Church is to seek a peaceful revolution from inside a system that needs change. I am proud to serve the love and light of the world, and to be a representative of safety and protection for the children in my life.

I thank God that I have one more day to breath. One more day to make a difference. One more day to make up for the hurt and the pain in my heart and the hearts of others. One more day to share the love and yearning for a happier life that we all seek.

The mysteries of the Universe are found in the eyes of our children. They are that love incarnate. I have one more day to be worthy, to guide, to share, to believe that I can bring love from my heart to theirs. I have one more day to get it right.

Thank God, I have one more day...

How do you know...

How do you tell the difference between a person on a cell phone and a schizophrenic? I mean really? They both hear voices in their heads. They both seem distracted and lose track of their surroundings when walking. Both have erratic driving behaviors and seem to be carrying on conversations no one else can hear. I don't see any difference at all.

Maybe cell phones are a shared delusion and we are all just plain crazy.