I haven’t forgotten about you.  I haven’t stopped writing.  I’ve been working over-nights and taking care of my children, so my writing time has been devoted to a personal thing that I am working on.  Sorry.  But here we go…

I’ve roughed out several posts for one ongoing thought.  I think that you’ll like it.  Or maybe you’ll really hate it.  I pray that you’ll have some strong reaction.  Beginning this Friday I will resume my Tuesday/Friday blogging regimen.  <Everyone cheers!>

Below is a sampling of my forthcoming thoughts, though I have withheld the word that ties them all together.  Consider it a teaser; my gift to you.  We’ll see you on Friday…

No one ever talks about it because it’s just not popular; and it gives the impression of a kind of resignation, unacceptable to the people grasping for control, those who are earning their way in and proving their value.  Should you embrace it like wine before bedtime; you best keep it to yourself.  Because if you find it, if it finds you; many will not understand.  It’s hard to fit in when you’ve learned to stop seizing upon the opinions of others.  You still care, but with a palm instead of a fist.

Recessions, depressions, traffic congestion – you learn to live around them.  You sing your sad songs with a tilted grin.  Truth, it exists, and you can study her contents.  It’s okay to mourn if you’ve got to.  And by the way, “okay” means okay.

This certain grace is trying to find you.  To accept it, you lay down your undying quest for happiness.  Don’t worry, you’ll get something better, not fleeting.  You’ll work and you’ll dance.  You’ll eat and you’ll pray.  You’ll know something.  Not a lot.  Not everything.  Just enough for this day, and probably the beginnings of tomorrow.  You won’t appear wise to everyone, but you’ll forget to care.

Vision and history will line up in perspective as hope and informant for the unfurling present.  The op-ed pages will cease to make as much sense as they once did.  Newsprint looks like a coloring book, all black and white, waiting for some child to scribble over the lines.  Youthful Ideals have peace talks with Aging Disappointment.  They decide they are both right about certain things, neither of them change their ways; they just become friendlier and reside in their familiar places.

Lying down on your bed you think, “To eat, and to drink and to find satisfaction in your work… this too I see is from the hand of God.”  Rest as if your faith has been proven, “become sight,” as an old hymn says.

(For this to make sense, you’ll have to read last week’s post, a simple quote from The Grapes of Wrath.)

“That terrible action is why I perform this terrible action.”  That’s what you tell yourself.  You might be right; not excused, just correct.  When it comes to pain, anger, hatred or any other negative life experience we all look for reasons that will explain why we are the way we are or do the things we do.  We all have some pretty unsettling corners of our lives; the dark, quiet ones.

There has to be a reason why:

I drink too much.  I tell lies.  I work too much.  I don’t work.  I over-eat.  I make myself throw up.  I visit certain websites.  I’m addicted to facebook.  I sleep around.  I withhold myself from my spouse.  I judge everyone around me.  I’m greedy.  Whatever…