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Category: Writing

There Is Only One Who Captures My Passion

I am what I am and that’s all that I am

A whole bunch of years ago a co-worker who followed my blog told me that when I wrote about myself; my passions; my heart that the writing was much better. I allowed some of the ‘me’ that I keep bundled up in the corner to peek out. She said that when I wrote about technical stuff like the Church and theology the writing just wasn’t compelling.
I took that to heart. Of course I want people to read what I write. That’s why I write it! Her comments sent me down a road of constant concern for how I present myself through these little blog thingies.
A problem that I found with this is that there are things that I am passionate about that don’t necessarily reveal anything other than my thoughts on various topics. They’re not some kind of heart revealing story that may be anywhere near what my co-worker spoke about.
But, they are things that I am passionate about.
I am passionate about God. Who God is. What God speaks to me. Where God leads.
I am passionate about worshiping this God. The act of sharing my heart with God is irresistible.
I am passionate about sharing this God with others. Not in the way evangelicals do. But, in ways that I think may actually introduce the God I love to others. ANY others.
In all of this, I am passionate about Orthodoxy. Not the Eastern kind. The word ‘Orthodox’ is made of two Greek words. Ortho, meaning straight, right, or correct. And, Dox derives from a word that means belief. So, literally, Orthodox means Correct Belief.
Now, as a disclaimer, I am making no claim at all that what I believe is all correct. Nor is it my belief that everyone else follows what I think. I’m just an old white guy with some opinions. Nothing more than that.
As an open disclosure, I find my way to Orthodoxy within a fairly large community. There is my local parish and the people who attend there. They get to listen to me and respond to the things that I think. We don’t always agree. But, that’s ok. I am part of the larger diocese of Ohio as well as the Episcopal Church in the U.S. Again, we don’t always agree, but I find that the larger church does have some guardrails in place that help me to not go flying off of the road. I am in constant dialog with the Academy and the Scholarship that comes from it. Greater minds than mine have wrestled with the same things that I do. I avail myself of that. And, my community includes the ancient Church and Church Fathers who produced our framing documents defining Orthodoxy, the Creeds.
All of that to say, when I write on technical issues that affect faith and the Church, I stand on a fairly firm foundation. That foundation allows my passions to gain their footing and present to the world.

There are many others who make claims to a form of orthodoxy. They, like me, define orthodox as correct belief. Their right belief, however, is in dogma and doctrine rather than the Scripture, the Church, and the Tradition. Many of them reduce God to a series of systematic attributes. They call that Systematic Theology. The church I came from used a particular book as their sole education to theology. Reading the book, they said, was all that was necessary to be orthodox. If you read the book and believe what the writer said, you’re good to go. The problem with that is that people who write systematic theologies are usually old, white guys who are trying to justify all of the money that they wasted on education. Yeah, I’m looking at you, Wayne Grudem. God for them becomes little more than bite-sized bits of scripture texts taken out of context. These ‘theologies’ offer nothing that may actually bring life to people. It’s sterile academics at its worst. Probably, a lot like my co-worker thought of some of my blog posts.
Because of my passion for God, I will continue to push back against those who would put God into a systematic or doctrinal box. Too much of that has been done over the centuries. And, millions have suffered because someone said, “This is the only way to serve God. Follow these rules. Memorize these propositions. Do what I say. Not what I do.” If that’s to technical or doesn’t reveal who I am, so be it. I can only write the words that express what I am passionate about.
This IS me.
Deal with it.

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Chains! People Have Me Wrapped Up in Chains!

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Happy Pi Day! I’ll take 3.14159265359 slices of cherry, please!
Yesterday I wrote a pretty pitiful post full of whiny stuff. Well, actually, it was a shameless plug for the upcoming Bible study about Violence. But, it still sounded whiny to me. So, today I thought that I’d revisit something that I’m sure I’ve written about before. Just don’t ask me where or when. C’mon! I’m old! You can’t expect me to remember everything! Sheesh!
That topic is, “Why do I even do this?”
Why did I start this blog thingy over a decade ago? Why have I written well over 500 posts? Why do I continue writing even though very few people ever read it?
Good Questions! I’m glad you asked!
Like I wrote yesterday, there is an organic bond between me and following Jesus. The bond has been forged over more than 50 years of trying, (mostly, unsuccessfully), to faithfully follow Him. During all of those years I’ve experienced the good and bad of Xtianity. I’d like to think that there was more good than bad. I’m simply not sure about that. All those years ago I tossed my hat into the Church, including its history. For the greater part of 1,500 years that history has been bloody and full of violence. Some would say that the Church is just continuing the legacy of God’s people from the beginning. That’s a whole topic in itself. Just not the one I want to touch on now. No, the reason that I want to revisit this question of why is simply an ‘Apology’ in the ancient meaning of that word. Why do I do this thing with words? Words are Power. I’ve written that many times. And, will continue to do so. Because I believe that it’s absolutely true. Words have the power to change and control reality. Especially, the reality in which we each live in. They can, as they say, loose or bind. The binding kind are in my crosshairs.
When I think of words binding folks, the image of Jacob Marley in Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.” We’re told that every link in Marley’s chain was forged in this life by the choices that he made in not caring about others. While I know that Dickens was no theologian, his image of the chains is not far off. Whether we carry these chains into a hope for afterlife is beyond me. What I do know, however, is that the Words that we accept and believe very well may. Like I said, Words are Power.
I see the power to bind that words carry whenever I see someone speak derogatory words to another. Things like, “You’ll never amount to anything!” are powerful words. They are able to destroy another person in reality just as dead as any gun. The words that I take aim at are,”Unless you believe exactly as I do, you are going to hell!” Or, “God hates people! If not for Jesus standing between us and God, we would all be incinerated!” Or, “The Church has always thought this. Who are we to question it?” I could continue and produce a long litany of Death Dealing Words. Words that are fired like arrows into the hearts and minds of others. Words flung about without a care of who may be destroyed by them.
So, I write. I write about the Bible and theology. I write about the Church. I write about the abuses that I and countless others received at the hands of people who care not a whit about the damage that their words may cause.
Of course, I would like my words to speak to more people. I believe them to be important in the process of healing from abuse. I believe that my journey may benefit one or two people who are trapped in doubt. I believe that my words contain the Power to Heal.
So, I write. You may not find my words entertaining. Well, that’s not my job. You may think that I’m simply trying to impress with my great knowledge and insights. Well, maybe if I had any. I don’t. I just have my experience and my thoughts about that experience.
And, I write with hope. Hope that someone somewhere may read my words and the links in the chain that binds them to lies and death may weaken. Maybe, even fall off.

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Surprise Milestone

Last night I got a notification on my phone. These aren’t really unusual. I’m sure that all of us have received some kind of notification.
There are weather alerts and overdraft notices. (Hopefully, not too many of those!)
We get them when possible spam calls are silenced and notices telling us who is actually calling or texting.

Well, this particular notification was one that I would have never considered. Especially, since I have been rather quiet in this space. But…
apparently my blog got its 10,000th all-time view!

Yippee!!
Yahoo!!
Yay!!

Maybe it’s the Universe telling me that I should get back in the fray and fill the World Wide Web with my thought-jewels and my inimitable wisdom. Lord knows that there is plenty of room out there in the Æther for more crap. So, why not add more?

Is this an alert to anyone paying attention that there will, most definitely be more stuph appearing at this URL?
Oh, Hellz no!

But, maybe…just, maybe, there will be something.

I mean, I gotta get something out there to start reeling in the next 10,000 views!

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Tuesday Morning Musing_7-14-2020 Version

Call it Information Overload.
Call it stuck in the News Cycle.
Call it George.
Whatever it’s called, it has caused my brain to be constipated.

Eyes have not seen; Ears have not heard all of the crap floating around in the air.
Well, maybe that’s not entirely accurate.
After all, there is truly nothing new Under the Sun.

But, all at once?
I find that I must bore a hole in the back of my brain in order to let some of that stuff that’s clogging up the neural pathways to leak out.
I had a Bag-O-Poop stuck to my belly to catch and dispose of the waste.
Now, I need one of those to stick to my head to catch the crap that I must allow to escape.

To wear a mask, or to NOT wear a mask.
That is the question.

Do Black Lives REALLY Matter?

How many verifiable lies have flowed from the halls of power today?

The Russians did WHAT?!?

How many people died in the last 24 hours from Covid?

Are those our local police? Or, is the the local Militia?

Who to trust; who to listen to?

Am I stuck in an echo chamber in which the same ideas that I hold simply bounce and rebound around the walls until I am lulled into a stupor, a complacency that renders me useless?

At what point must I scream,
ENOUGH?!?!?

I don’t know.
Truly, I don’t.

So many thoughts about Justice and what it might look like in our culture.

Where in the World is Carmen Sandia….Wait…
No, Where in the World is God?
Has the Holy Spirit gone to Jamaica for a vacation and a sip of rum?
Where are the people who claim to follow Jesus?
You know, the ones who have stood up at the altar with tears streaming down their faces calling out and professing their personal fealty to the King of kings?

All is silent.

All is calm.

Except for my soul.

It twists and turns trying to see the promised redemption of the Cosmos.
It cries out to Yahweh in hopes of an answer; a whisper of hope.

It is beyond my strength to sit and do nothing, though.
For me that would be to seriously Miss the Mark and fall short of the Glory that God prepared for all of us to share in.
But, I must admit that I am tired.
My brain is saturated.
I don’t know where or how to start to release all that is pent up within those Little Gray Cells.
Perhaps, this is a start.
Just maybe simply sitting and throwing words up in the air to see where they may fall will begin a cascade of something meaningful.

Or, maybe I’m just kidding myself.

We’ll see.

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Friday Morning Musing: Letters to Julia

People keep saying that “Life is a Journey”! The object being that we should savor the moments as they come to us. “Stop and smell the roses,” they tell us. It’s all part of the “journey.”
To be sure, I really like that metaphor. It clears my head of any illusions that I have somehow made it to some terminus or completion. There is always another step to take; another rock to step over.
Along the way there are people, places, and events that affect us. Some for the good. Some for ill. In either case, our journey continues, helped or hindered, until we walk on from this world into the next.

Julia Cameron has been one of those people who has been a boon to me on my journey. Many years ago I came across on of her 40 odd books entitled, “The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity.” The book is like so many others the have been written to help creative people do what they are called to do…Create. Julia’s book arrived in my life at a time when I was struggling with my own creative direction.
I am a musician. Have been for nearly my entire life. I spent a lot of time in various bands playing all kinds of music. From garage parties to venues seating thousands and everywhere in between. However, at a particular point in my life, I noticed that the music had gone. Just up and disappeared. I don’t know where it went. Maybe someday I’ll find it again.
I did find something else, though.
When I was in seminary I found that I could put words to paper. Not just jotting random characters to fill page count requirements.I could mold and fashion them. I was what some people call an aspiring Wordsmith.
So, I wrote.
I wrote papers and essays.
I began this blog.
I journaled as part of my daily devotional practices.
But, I was also unskilled in the craft of writing. I wasn’t sure where the inspiration for consistent writing came from.


Enter Julia’s book!

It appeared at the right time.
Julia took me by the hand and led me forward until the weeds cleared a bit and I could begin to make out the path ahead.
So, first of all…
Thank You, Julia! Your words helped to prod me forward on this Artist’s Way.
I hope that I can continue treading on it until my feet grow too weary to carry me. Then, I will crawl until my hands and knees give out.

There are still times, though, when it seems that the words are gone. I look for that Creative Stream that courses through the Cosmos so that I can dip my toe into its living waters. Yet, it is nowhere to be seen.
Those are the days when I must press on anyway. Pull out the machete and hack at the brush and weeds to find my way forward.
One tool that I have developed to do that is called, “Letters to Julia.”
During my morning quiet time I purpose myself to write in my journal. My goal is to fill at least three pages with whatever comes to mind. Most mornings are filled with reflections and prayers. My deepest thoughts, fears, and joys find their way to these pages.
But, on those days when my brain is foggy or I am unable to put to cogent words together, I write a letter.


Dear Julia…
I begin.
Then, I tell her what’s going on in my life.
I share some of my thoughts and concerns.
I tell her about the weather in Northern Ohio.
Nothing is out of bounds.
And, the words begin to come.
First, a trickle.
Then, a small rivulet.
Eventually there is a stream flowing from my heart, my mind, to my pen, and then the page.

After I walk on from this world, whoever may read the journals that I have filled will find many letters to Julia.
She has been an ever present ally, mentor, inspiration, and friend on my life’s journey.

Thank you, Julia!!!

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Meet My Friends

Ok, I’m going in a little different direction today.
I want to take a moment and introduce you to a couple friends of mine.
They lived in Southern California.
Or, maybe New England.
I haven’t quite figured that out yet.

The first person’s name is Marc.
He’s a data analyst for a consulting company.
The company does work for some Silicon Valley companies.
They help glean data and sift it in order to find trends that their clients can exploit in order to up their ad revenue.
Marc also has training in programming.

The other person is Ann.
She is a co-worker of Marc’s.
She is a math prodigy.
Numbers speak to her like music or art speaks to other people.

Marc was raised by a single parent. His father, like so many others, ghosted his family when Marc was young. His Mom worked two jobs to support them. That left Marc with considerable time on his hands while Mom was away. To keep him busy, his Mom enrolled him in Martial Arts at an early age. This gave him a community to belong to and role models that he could follow.
He also enjoyed attending and involving himself in his local church parish. He had a fairly good relationship with the priest there. He had even considered entering the priesthood before he fell in love with computers and their potential as useful tools for life and commerce.

Ann came from an abusive home. She and her siblings were continually berated by their alcoholic mother and a father who simply didn’t seem to care. Ann, as the oldest, took the brunt of the abuse. At the same time, however, she worked hard to protect and support her younger sister and brothers.
She found escape and peace in numbers. There was beauty in the patterns that they formed. Rather than being the drudgery that most kids experienced, Ann saw purpose and order. Her mind was wired in such a way that equations and formulae became friends she could count on to always remain consistent.

These two are not real people.
They are characters in a story that I began a little over a year ago.
After I completed the original draft of the story I set it on the corner of my desk.
And, there it sits.

There are many times that I considered shredding the story. It was a valiant first attempt. But, it’s really not very good. I thought that perhaps I’d just start a new project and build upon my initial experience.

However, Marc and Ann keep coming back into my brain.
The premise of the story seems sound enough. I just need to reconsider my approach.

So, with that in mind, I thought that I would breathe some new life into this tale. I’m not sure what’s going to come of it. It may still simply crash and burn.
If I can introduce these characters, though, perhaps they, like Pinocchio, will come to life and become real people.

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Brazen Self-Promotion

Hey, all!
I’m going to divert just a tad today.
Over the years I’ve attempted to write about, well, anything at all.
Ok, I try to stay away from U.S. politics. That’s way to divisive even for me.
That was one of the main reasons that I walked away from all social media a little over a year ago. The vitriol and hatred I witnessed was too much for me. I was loosing sleep and suffering from anxiety. So, yeah. I needed a season for self-care.

Recently, though, I returned to the fray.
I am being far more selective of people and groups that I follow and interact with this time. I don’t want to end up chewing my fingernails and muttering to myself.

What I do intend to do, though, is utilize the wide influence of social media to promote my own writing. With retirement looming ahead, I am continuing to work through what I intend to do with my time. And, believe me, there are a multitude of options knocking on the door. I will not get bored!

My greatest hope is to step up with writing.
Ever since I can remember words have been important to me.
They are the clay with which I mold both statuary for aesthetics and beauty as well as the bowls and cups with which I eat and drink.
In seminary I found that I could actually write well.
Not great, by any stretch. But, I was adept at it and enjoyed doing it very much.
So, to test the waters I began a blog.
It wasn’t much to begin with. I jotted down thoughts and ideas that happened to be walking around in my brain.
Now, over 450 blog posts later, I am more intentional about things that I write.
I write with a specific audience in mind.
Yeah, I still toss out the odd poem or essay from time-to-time. That’s just how my brain works, I guess. And, I will continue to do that.

So, back to the social media thing.
I am going to use Facebook, tumblr, twitter, and maybe Instagram to post my work.
My intent is to build an audience, a tribe, of followers who will be directed to my blog. I desire that people read, follow, and share with their friends what I write.
Eventually, I hope to either morph the blog into an Author’s website, or create a new site as my home as an author.

Yes, I intend to use this blog and my social media accounts to write and promote my original content.

That said, I would not be disappointed if you all would ‘like,’ share, comment, or follow this blog and any content that I post to social media.
Yeah, this is a brazen attempt at self-promotion.
It’s awkward for me to do this.
The page is turning to reveal the next chapter of my life.
Using words to create worlds and universes are written into that chapter.
I guess that I’m asking you to join with me as I journey into the unknown.

Thank you!

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Fertile Field of the Mind

Some days my mind just doesn’t want to work.
I look out across the landscape of my imagination and see swirling dust devils and hard, sun baked rocks reaching out of the ground like the dead fingers of some poor, undead soul reaching from the grave.
I wonder, “Where has the lush green forests where unseen woodland creatures dance and play?”

There is nothing.

Perhaps, somewhere beneath this parched surface there lies a seed; dormant; waiting.
If I should quest to find that River of Creativity that meanders through the Cosmos, could I maybe retrieve a cap full of that Blessed water to wet the uncracked germ that houses the glorious life within?
But, that river is like the Nexus from that Star Trek movie. It moves and wanders through the Cosmos seemingly at will. Where will it appear next?

If I may be able to find it, could I possibly dig a ditch to channel some of that Living Water to irrigate the fertile soil of my Mind?
Just a small bit to moisten the earth that forms the womb for the sleeping embryo of Creativity to germinate.

Then, root and shoot moving away. Action; Reaction garnering strength from the germ of life within the seed.
Root searching for moisture and nutrition. Shoot digging ever upward in search of the light and warmth of the Sun.
Leaf and bud forming to empower and create!

That is where Life is!

But, for now, I wait.

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Happy New Year!!!

Ok, I know! It’s November 1st, not January 1st.
But, today is an anniversary of sorts for me that marks a rather significant milestone.
Before I get to that, though, there is another milestone I want to share.

THIS IS MY 400TH BLOG POST!
(And, the crowd goes wild!)

I went back and checked. My first post was written using Blogspot on
December 12, 2009. Considering that it’s been a decade in the making, maybe 400 posts doesn’t seem like a lot. But, it is. Trust me.

The other reason that this is a significant date for me is that one year ago today I started my first NaNoWriMo.
And, that ushered in a year of pretty substantial creativity from me.

I finished NaNo at the end of November with a novel of just over 50,000 words.
During that month I learned a lot about the process of writing. I learned that to create anything takes hard work and showing up Every. Single. Day. I had to average almost 2,000 words per day in order to achieve the goal.

And, I did it!

One of the results of that experience was an increase in content output for me. Yeah, I didn’t show up a lot on this here blog thingy. Not nearly as much as I would have liked. But, I began what has now been a nearly year long process of introspection. I primarily use Journaling for that work. Right now I’m on my third journal since Jan. 1 and will be going out to buy a fourth this weekend.
And, yes, Journaling is creative writing.
It enables me to tap into the Creative River that courses through the Cosmos. Writing this way opens my Heart to the internal Pulse of Life that animates me as I walk through the fields of this life. I also continue to develop the discipline of showing up every day to think, create, and write.

So, yeah!
It’s New Years for me!

Tonight I will begin the task that is NaNoWriMo 2019.
In 30 days I hope to have another 50,000+ words completed.
As near as I can tell, this is the Best Way to ring in a New Year!

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Light To Light?

The Western mind had been trained to see things in Binary terms.
Right/Wrong
Good/Evil
White/Black
On/Off

But, what if the Universe doesn’t work that way?
What if there can be
Right/Right?

In most stories people who lead so-called “double lives” are generally cast as immoral. Or, at the very least, amoral. They can’t possibly be virtuous. In fact, theirs is a life defined by vice. It is vulgar and without any redeeming value.

The story that I plan to work on this year during NaNoWriMo is one in which I hope to look at the possibility that Right isn’t always quite Right.
Perhaps there are degrees of “Rightness.”
And, what happens when someone finds themselves with lives that exist in two different realities must straddle that gulf where what is Good and Acceptable in one reality may be entirely different that that in the other.

Can that person be called Virtuous?

Or, would that person be a Victim? Victimizer?

I don’t know for sure where the story will lead.
That’s one of the cool things about creating worlds and stories to populate them.
They can take on a life of their own.
Perhaps, to the mountain peaks.
Perhaps, into Alice’s rabbit hole.
The journey should be interesting.

For who truly knows where Light ends and Light begins?

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