*

Some days I imagine life is the sort of thing I can make right...

And then I am crushed. I know it is too painful an assessment to place upon those who are truly in pain.

Where is their God?

I see a myriad of choices coming in and shattering my already broken worldview.

I want to put an asterisk on those shirts that read "life is good"

Life is good.*

(*except when it is bad. In the case things life suddenly becomes "not good" we offer no refund for your experience, but you can always ship the shirt off to a third world country for some starving child to wear who can't even understand the irony. Enjoy!)



I will never wear one, even when I believe that life is and can be good. I have no desire to be one of 'those people".

Maybe I will go to school and graduate doing exactly what I want to be doing with ferver, I will be happy, but I will skip the shirt that proclaims so.

Maybe I will get married and be tempted to get one, maybe we will make love and I will be so caught up in her I wonder how I ever did life alone. I will burn the shirt, hoodie, hat, croc that bears it's brand if I am given it.

Maybe I will have a child, and I will love that child like she is my own. I will let her wear the shirt, until she is seven, and then she and I will talk about the real world, and how we are going to change it.

Maybe I will be old and senile and will be given the shirt to ease the pain of aging memories...

I will give the shirt to the drunk guy on the street, he will probably not care, but he will ask me for money. I will give him a 5 dollar bill and tell him I have walked with God. I will tell him why there is an asterisk on the shirt.

And then I will go home, after she does, so I can finally feel the pain of greatest loss and hope in death and protect her from having to feel that way for me. So I can be there for her last breath... maybe then life will make sense, as I let go of it so that I can see what lies behind it, so I can finally say that life was good.*

*will it?

Where's my head?

I am staring. Pretty sure my palms are sweating. Am I in denial about what is happening right now? Perhaps I should sit down. Or is it better I stand up? I have no clue.

He is standing so I think I will sit. At his table.

“Get out of my face! You are a piece of s***! Get your f****** face away from my table now!” Food and spittle hit my face as this angry man stands over me leaning in, threatening me, incensed, hateful and fearful. He hates me. He has made that clear. But I bought him coffee, and I sat at his table to talk to him. I dared to challenge him.
And he is scared.

My voice, it sounds so powerless, and I wonder if it is a little cocky, to stand here and defy this man who is threatening to kill me for disrupting his mildly profitable tarot card reading. It is tense, and I am slightly shaken with astonishment.
But I am not scared, not like he is. Just nervous. And I am shaking. They say that excitement and nervousness often manifest themselves in the same way. If that is true, I could just be really excited.

“You don’t have the right or power to tell that girl’s future. What is it that gives you that right?”

There are still a few bystanders, leftover from the last reading observing the scene and sipping coffee. My sister Prayse and my friends, Sidra and Ryan sit at the table behind me. They are praying for me, and I am praying. Hard. Fast. Wisdom God, please show me why this is happening to me today... “...you want to go into the alley to talk!” Bringing me back to his threats of death. He points to his little black book on the table and opens it to a page listen the names of Hell’s Angels associates. “Read my references, and get the f*** out of here...”

I looked into his face, covered mostly by a scraggly grey beard, and he is wearing a truckers cap. His eyes are darting and he is pacing, and seems to be staying a certain distance away from me as though I am diseased.

My friend puts her hand on my shoulder. "We should go", she says. I am sure she can feel how much I am shaking. She is right, what can I do? I challenged his beliefs, disrupted his readings, and the barista is kicking him out. I am not sure I have done the right thing, but there is no reasoning with him. He won't answer my questions.
"And I'd search for reason I'm awake
To hear this song march, blasphemy I'd take"

Goodness where have my thoughts gone. Pray. Pray for him. Pray for the people he has led astray. For those who watched in dismay, and for those who died inside tonight. Pray against the evil, and for those who are caught in the web of lies, the games, the traps, the fear.
I serve a mighty God who is alive, whose breath fills my lungs.

"No weapon that is formed against you will prosper;
and every tongue that accuses you in judgment you will condemn.
This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD,
and their vindication is from Me"
-Isaiah 54:17

If you are a Christian, you might know this verse. It continues, not with this militaristic language, but a beautiful promise.

Every one who thirsts, come to the waters;
And you who have no money come, buy and eat
Come, buy wine and milk
Without money and without cost.
Why do you spend money for what is not bread,
And your wages for what does not satisfy?

God promises that nothing will ultimately harm his servants, no matter how powerful the enemy. No matter how much control over their evil they think they are, they are undone.
"I believe in the duality of the universe, in the universality of the mind."
That was what the man told me, when I initially questioned his power. He is wrong, good and evil are not equal forces. Evil cannot trump what is written by God in the foundations of the earth. This man would read the stars? I know who made them.

Friends, stand boldly in Christ. Don't waste your thirst, seeking water from empty wells, buying cheap insights from tricksters.
I am tired. I am numb, and I am subtly moving forward in my understanding of God's love. We are to love those who hate us. Turn the other cheek. Yet in the presence of injustice, and false teaching we are to be bold, unafraid to stand up for what is right. This is the double edged sword of perfect love.

My friends were praying for me. We didn't stop even after we drove home.

And Ed, I hope my presentation of you was honest, and that you may find the truth somehow. I continue to pray for you daily.