Clinton, South Carolina, Thursday, August 13, 2015, 8:54 a.m.
I feel incoherently profound this morning. I’m thoughtful, but none of the thoughts make sense. I’m wasting my time on issues beyond my ability to comprehend or influence.
I’ve already had coffee. I’ve already had breakfast. My mind doesn’t seem unclear. Obviously, it is. The mistake may be in pondering issues that are beyond me. The world doesn’t make sense right now.
Come to think of it, nothing has changed. I’m just thinking about it.
Cancer, for instance, is breaking out all over. A friend’s mother just succumbed. Buddy Baker, once a valued acquaintance when I did silly things like hang out at race tracks, died. Jimmy Carter has it. At least he’s ninety, and if anyone I’ve ever known should feel fulfilled, it is President Carter.
I just had a colonoscopy about a month ago. At the moment, I don’t think I’ve got it. Who knows, though? It could be a part of God’s plan. People say that all the time. I pray most every night, but who am I to influence God’s plan? I pray for happiness, wisdom, and enlightenment, mainly in general. God’s got lots to do and doesn’t need to be distracted. If I get cancer today, I won’t blame Him. I don’t think it’s His fault that the Red Sox stink. I don’t give Him credit for the Yankees falling out of first place.
I’m not going to make Him a scapegoat for mine and others’ failings. It reminds me of the baseball coach I used to know, oh, thirty years ago, who told me, strictly off the record, that many of his pitchers, when they perform poorly, would tell him it was God’s will.
“Son,” he’d tell them, “it ain’t God’s will for you to get your ass kicked.”
So they prayed for him, he said, and went back out on the hill and got their asses kicked again.
And I pray, usually not when I fall asleep, but later, when I awaken, realize the TV is on, and, oh, well, I might as well use the bathroom, and, when I cut the TV off and lie there in the dark, it just strikes me as the appropriate time, me and Jesus, Him listening maybe a little better because the lines aren’t jammed in the Eastern time zone, and sometimes I lose my focus, but then I remember someone else who might be hurting, or some great issue that we Tellurians are capable of resolving for ourselves if we’ll quit being so dadblamed selfish.
I don’t ask the Father, the Son, or the Holy Ghost to intervene. I pray for Him to provide us the capacity to work together and the wisdom to see it through.
How’s that hymn end? “God in three persons, blessed Trinity.”
Soon I’m going to ride around the yard, listen to music, and cut.
Please consider reading my new novel, Crazy of Natural Causes, not because it’s God’s will, but because I believed you will be amused and it will give you issues to ponder and, quite often, reject, but it is populated with imperfect beings, just like the world: http://www.amazon.com/Crazy-Natural-Causes-Monte-Dutton-ebook/dp/B00YI8SWUU/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1436215069&sr=1-1&keywords=Crazy+of+Natural+Causes