Don’t Sleep On This . . .
Pacman Jesus . . .?
God Doesn’t Want Me To Kill Myself
On Sunday, God decided . . . let me start again, remembering that I am a philosopher and theology nerd. At some “point’ in “eternity past” God “always intended” but communicated to me temporally on Sunday, that this week would be about people. All of my task based intentions should be dashed. I thought He was kidding. I was wrong.
My “reasonable service,” my “spiritual act of worship,” my “meaning of life” for this week is to be willing and able to throw aside all of my plans, at the drop of a hat, to be there for others.
This has been my week. It took 3 days of phone calls, ‘random’ bumping into people, kids showing up at my classroom door, and emails out of the blue for me to accept this. But, damnit, am I trying to get other things done.
So, at every turn, whenever I attempt to sit and accomplish a task which I feel is important, from grading, to cleaning my house, to cooking food, a person I love, in need, presents themselves. I don’t have a choice. I’m being taught to remember why I am who I am. I’m a people person. I am not a task person. I swore I would kill myself before I because I ‘get the job done’ person over the needs of others. If I looked back on an event and saw myself say, “sorry, I need to shuffle these papers, you’re on your own,” I’d have to kill that person.
Apparently, this is God’s way of keeping me alive.
Incomplete And Instrumentals
I have a nasty habit of starting songs and never finishing them, OR writing the music and never placing words (or complete words) to the song. In my mind an instrumental is always incomplete in that way.
I just went dumpster diving and these are amoung the dregs I found. Hmm. Might have to revisit some/all of these . . . when I have time.
Gotta Make Music
I was slacking on my pimping. Had to turn it up . . . as we used to say.
Song I’m trying to write, sped up (quite a bit) and changed (even more), but since it is not done yet, and it is mine, I can do whatever I want.
“Seasons”
” . . .Winter’s frost means summer’s lost
Until we spring, we will fall. . . “
There’s more, but that’s all I felt like singing this time around.
Stay tuned . . .