Heaven have mercy on us all – Presbyterians and Pagans alike – for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending.
– American novelist, short story writer, and poet, Herman Melville, was born on this day in 1819 (died 1891)
True story: I’ve never read Moby Dick. I’ll put it on the list.
Also true story: We all need grace.
None of us are perfect. In fact we’re far from it.
That’s why we should all cut each other some slack. Most of us are doing the best we can.
True, there are some genuine %#%(#@!$.
(I am very tempted to start poll to find out what word each of you inserted there.)
Most of us are just struggling to do our jobs, take care of our families and our homes, and maybe have a little fun once in a while.
Personally, I’m less than seven days away from having some of that fun at the beach. You already know we didn’t get there last year. And getting there this year has been a bit challenging.
Nevertheless, the beach and my beach chair await. I won’t be posting whilst we’re there. Funny, I just made that decision as I’m writing this. You’ll have to struggle through next week without your daily dose of brilliance.
As I’ve said, follow me on Instagram for sunrise pics.
It’s all about goals and priorities. My goal and priority next week is to let the ocean breeze clear out all the excess nonsense rattling around in my brain.
True, it takes me a day or so to disengage. But I’m warning my coworkers that only a crisis of which I am the only person in the Western Hemisphere with the answer/solution is the only reason they may call or write. In other words, don’t call.
I mean that in the nicest way.
Unless they call.
Our oldest will be holding down the home front and caring for the livestock whilst we’re away.
Can you tell I’m ready to go?
It’s Monday, August 1st, and I can’t let this day go without remembering the significance. I’ve written about it before on numerous occasions.
On August 1, 1978 while traveling with a ministry group from college I got the call that my father had passed away unexpectedly.
It’s the kind of thing you never really get over. Sure, the sting has lessened, but there’s a deep hurt that will never go away. I was twenty. He was forty-nine.
I will always feel cheated out of the time we could have had together. Always.
I know that early loss factored into many life decisions I made along the way. Maybe someday I’ll talk about them. Today is not that day.
But, we’re all a sum of the events that we’ve experienced and the choices we made.
That’s what makes us all a little messy. That’s why we all need grace.
And maybe a week at the beach.