What’s important

The meaning of life came to me in a slow moment of panic. I finally figured out what’s important. The only thing that really matters.

You need someone to care about. And who cares about you. You need someone to worry about, and who worries about you. You need someone to look after when they get sick, as they would look after you when you get sick. You need someone to share your life with. Just having yourself is not enough.

The people you used to care about, worry about, share your life with are gone now. They come to you in dreams, and in that surreal other world you have your life back, only to wake up in the same void of reality. It becomes hard then to get up and face the day without them, without any of them, not one.

There are bloggers out there who despise me for my pitiful — and to them, pitiable — posts about loss and loneliness. One posted a nasty poem about me “bemoaning my fate… boo hoo…” She erased it right after but not before I had read it.

She writes constantly and voluminously about her love for God, and I think what really set her off was when I lamented the continuing absence and silence of God in answer or non-answer to my prayerful entreaties for help. It’s funny how some of the nastiest comments I get are from so-called Christians, who tell me in most unchristian terms what they think of me. She pitied me in my “godless universe” and told me to drown my “sorrow in another glass of wine.”

First of all, let me set the record straight: I do not drink wine — I drink gin and rum and bourbon, so please, madam, do not add insult to injury.

Secondly, take your self-righteous sanctity and shove it.


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All ye who trust in God, start praying

America loves God

But does God love America?

‘In God We Trust’ is the official motto of the United States.

By a 1956 order of Congress, the words are inscribed on the walls of courtrooms and federal buildings, on dollar bills and coins. They are part of the national anthem, ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ — Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just, / And this be our motto: ‘In God is our trust.’

Politicians always end their speeches with variations of “And God bless America.”

God is everywhere in America. Not many other countries extol and rely on the Christian God as much as America.

En Dios Confiamos

The Republic of Nicaragua lives by such a motto — En Dios Confiamos. There are others but they are few.

Certain organizations and advocates of separation of church and state object to the motto and file law suits from time to time to abolish it, but they fall by the wayside.

The opposition is a tiny voice in the wilderness. ‘In God We Trust’ as a motto and a code to live by is supported by a huge majority of citizens. America, after all, has more Christians than any other country in the world.

So, no doubt about it, America loves God. But — does God love America?

America has been a rowdy nation from the beginning. But it has also been a brave and resilient one. The citizenry has faced and overcome many apocalyptic events in 244 years. The list reads like a litany from hell.

And 2020 is no exception — the unholy trinity of Covid, the deadly riots, and an election November 3rd that looms like a bad version of ‘Return of the Swamp Thing.’

For the millions of Americans who put their trust in God, there’s no better time to start praying. And praying hard. 


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All Souls Day

WEDNESDAY, 10:52 P.M.

The father thought about Ward 3C, the last place he had seen his son alive before the boy’s suicide.

His thoughts turned to the time his watch — an expensive gold Seiko his second wife had given him a few months earlier — stopped at 10:52 p.m. on Wednesday, November 2.

It was the day after Will’s funeral. His father was in a hotel room in Toronto, yelling in his Xanax and beer bewilderment that he was going to “get” the psychiatrist who had released Will from Ward 3C, perhaps before he should have.

In a black notebook in which he’d been keeping a record of past events the father angrily wrote: AINSLEY! THURSDAY! Apparently to confront the psychiatrist the next day and — do what? Threaten him? Kill him?

And that’s when the sweep second hand on his Seiko stopped dead. The batteries were supposed to last up to four years — he had been guaranteed this — and yet they gave out at that precise moment. Why then, at that very second?

The father considered the possibility that Will or Will’s spirit had stopped the watch because of what he had been yelling about the psychiatrist, knowing, as Will now possibly did, that he was on the wrong track, that it wasn’t Ainsley’s fault, or anyone’s fault.

The next day the father put the question to his ex-wife. She was a Catholic and had a belief that he envied. “Do you think Will stopped the watch because I was threatening to do something to the psychiatrist?”

“That’s possible,” she said. “But more likely, 10:52 p.m. Wednesday was the moment Will ascended to Heaven.”

The father was about as irreligious as you could get, but he liked the way his ex-wife’s mind worked.

“That was All Souls Day,” she said, “when Christians pray for the souls who are being purified in purgatory so they may enter Heaven.” The funeral had been held the day before, so it made sense, even to a pagan.

The father never got his watch fixed. It was a valuable clue, a historical artifact. He’d never tamper with stuff like that. It was found in his apartment after his own death, still frozen at 10:52.


Excerpted from original story -> https://billmichelmore.com/a-place-to-heal/


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