Are you born again?

I always chuckle when I hear that phrase. There was my natural birth, then there was my birth into Christ at Baptism. The the extent that we had Christian parents who had us baptized, we are all "born again." Then comes the follow-up question: "Do you accept Christ as your savior?" OK, I do, I do. Somehow this implies that I am saved. I am in this shrink-wrapped state where I can no longer spoil. No expiration date on my shelf life. Baptism and accepting Christ is just the seed for me that still needs to be watered, pruned and nurtured from heat and cold. To me this comes from being taught Christian ethics and morality and cultivating a prayer life. Finally I have to bear fruit. Big fruits, gigantic fruits. What good is a nice looking tree without any fruit? Did not Jesus curse the fig tree that bore no fruit?

Robert

I had lunch and dinner with different friends and now I feel stuffed. Did not get anything done today.

This picture is Robert's favorite picture. He is the little boy Jesus in the picture and the Blessed Mother is his mother. I have always loved Robert very much. Robert did not know his mother. She died when he was very young. The Blessed Mother became his mother. Robert's father remarried and Robert had a terrible stepmother. This women also died and Robert's father married again in his old age. That is when I met Robert and Robert's family. Robert and I have been inseparable every since.

Fog and Love

This morning there was still fog. In patches - but very thick. One could feel the fog. I love it. The sun shone like the moon. The road signs were only readable at the last second. It went to the Church of God's Wrath. I like this church because the people are very loving and the pastor is very holy. I attend a Bible Class there. My small group session is not very edifying but the pastor's wrap up is very good. This afternoon I had friends over and my friend Oscar who belongs to the Monks of the Desert spoke about the Blessed Mother. Everyone liked it. We pray for each other and love each other.

Fog

I came home tonight and fog had settled over the landscape. It was not in patches, it was everywhere. The moon looked greenish but lovely through the tinted windshield. I love fog. It was like a soft blanket over a lonely soul.

Killings

The Russians kill each other with radioactive Pollonium. The Iraqies kill each other with car bombs. The Palestinians and Jews kill each other with whatever their minds can come up with - their is no end to their imaginative genius - on both sides. The pastor at the Six Flags over Jesus Church kills by lying and intimidating.

We are supposed to be pure and undefiled - the rose remind me of it. There is beauty.

We believe

I did the pitch today for a new Bible Class. I like Bible Class, so this was not a difficult job. This afternoon I taught about our believes. We believe in one God etc, etc. I have a nice group and try to make it interesting. It is time to feed the dogs. Hunchdog gets very annoyed when I don't feed her on schedule and Violet, the other dog, could care less. I have to coax her to eat. Violet likes to sleep in my bed and it can get very crowded because she likes to push me out and each one grabs for the comforter. Hunchdog sleeps on the easy chair and when she on occasion comes into the bed it feels like I am in a straightjacket. One on the right and one on the left.

Sam

Sam and Kim and I went to the Irish pub tonight. Sam lives in the city but comes out every so often on business during the weekend. After business we enjoy going out to dinner. Kim was late because her road was closed - an accident in her neighborhood. Sam's Irish boss is in also town and staying with him. We talked a lot about my Mom who died in June. Sam has good observations about the grieving process but also great comments about the Six Flags over Jesus Church. Sam belongs to the Church of the W.F. "Wet Feet." They take the vow of poverty and I like that.

My friend Lucky e-mailed this morning. She is moving and wrote that she most likely won't attend the Church of the Six Flags of Jesus any longer. I am sorry that she is moving. Lucky volunteered in the kitchen a lot. That is were they love to use you and channel you to volunteer when you first get there. You can win a gold star by volunteering in the kitchen and when you get the gold star, the pastor might notice you and start speaking to you- on the run. My friend Kay and I discussed recently people who claim to have a direct line speaking to Jesus. There is no shortage of this kind at the Six Flags Church. The pastor encourages certain people in blessing their half-baked fantasies as talk from Jesus and the results are sometimes quite hilarious. I belive that everyone has a direct line to Jesus but most of us realize that as humans we need to practice a great deal of discernment in what we pass on.

The evening after

I went to Kay's house tonight. Had a wonderful time there. Had not eaten spaghetti in months and pasta was my mom's favorite food until she died. Best crust on the pineapple cake. How did she do it? Both Kay and her husband are quite brainy without showing it. One feels comfortable in their presence. Kay's sister was there as well. I have always liked her. Kay goes to the Church of Six Flags of Jesus about 20 miles from here. They take your money and your faith but insist you come back or you go to hell. Kay teaches there.

The Day After

I stepped into the car this morning and the first thing that I encountered as I rolled out of the garage was the Christmas music. Silent Night, Holy Night. Wish it were. Had to get dog food. The parking lot in front of the Mini-Mouse Store around the corner was empty and so was the store. Great day to be in the grocery store. I went with Anna to her support group for breakfast. It is a wonderful group of women which meet once a week. There was lots of laughter. Came home and sent Sam a check for the van. Wished I could buy him a new one.

Evening

Sore and I had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Lots of funny girl talk. Kay called this afternoon and I will go over to her house tomorrow. Her sister is with her and is somewhat disabled. I have always been especially fond of this sister. Lots of paperwork to do in the morning.

Noon

It is noonish. I am taking a little break. I think I can feed an army. I have two types of sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, freshly cooked cranberries, squash. My string beans are prepared and my next step will be to put the turkey and the stuffing into the oven. Asparagus and deliciously small balsamic vinegar onions wait their turn. The mushroom ragout is dead last. My friend Sam called. Needs money for a new used van. His kids drove it into a deer. The van is totalled. Sam does not have much money. I am glad I can help.

Thanksgiving

Sore will be coming over for Thanksgiving. It is my turn to cook for everyone. First I will read the newspaper this morning. Need my cup of coffee, will take the dogs for a walk - then the pototoes. I really don't like turkey smell in the house. That comes last. The office is closed tomorrow. Hooray. I work for Mr. Thistlewhite. He is nice enough. We have a business relationship. His predecessor Mr. Lang had hired me just before he left. Most of the suggestions Mr. Lang had for my position, which was new, fell by the wayside once Mr. Thistlewhite arrived. I did not mind since my sister Happy needed all my attention. Her husband died this year. We talked in the office yesterday about the "Dear Amy" letter. A young girl having a relationship with a Catholic priest. I see problems on both sides. Lots of women throwing themselves at the priest and the priest falling for these emotionally needy, pious little dingbats. Watch out for the spiritual menage a trois. They are alive and well and everyone involved says: I don't sin. I don't think going to the the bishop helps. The bishops side with the priest. A few Diocesan priests are protected little criminals. The attitude seems to be 'we rather have a sick priest than no priest at all.' Sick priests make for sick parishioners. The Catholic hierachy does not get it. It's the Gospel for the little people.

My friends

My friends are Lizzy, Wendy and Sore. Lizzy lives next door. I can always visit. Her door is always open. Wendy likes to shop and we do this together. Sore tags along. Sore bought a tombstone for her uncle yesterday. There are no other survivors. She is the last one in her family. We like to take care of her. She has a soft heart and always helps others. Lizzy called and just told me she was invited to a Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday. I once was friends with that person as well but that friendship did not hold up under stress. Funny what pressure will do to friendships.

Ronnie

Ronnie came over to take care of my car remote. I have one but do not know how program it. I have a rough time programming myself. Ronnie and his wife have been friends for some time. It is one of those friendships that are never possessive but always helpful.