i
quit

Internal monologue

(inspired by yesterday's xkcd)

Where did I just put that phone?  I hung up from talking with Teri . . . started walking upstairs . . . grabbed the frozen chicken along the way that I got out to thaw while I was talking with her . . . walked into the kitchen . . . unwrapped the chicken and put it on the counter . . . walked into the dining room and realized I didn't take care of the phone . . . Hmm, I don't remember putting it down, but it would have had to have been on one of the counters . . . Nope, not there . . . maybe I left it downstairs, set it down before I shut off the tv she left on? . . . no, no sign of it there, either . . . I remember putting it on the cradle before I called her, but not after . . . let me walk back into the kitchen . . . No, it isn't on the counters . . . Oh, there it is, on the cradle after all . . .  that's odd, I don't remember walking over and putting it there . . . I wonder if there are any notifications on my cell phone . . . Nope . . . wait . . . 

That's right, I talked to her on my cell!

(elapsed time: 20 seconds)

THIMK

Due to the intersection of last night's query about suicide and today's word, I guess it's Think About Dad Day.

He had a one-(not-quite-)word sign on his desk at work, I presume to remind him to pay attention to detail. It said 'THIMK," and - I presume - served as a reminder to avoid obvious mistakes by looking back over your work.  He had a reputation around the workplace for developing circuits that functioned as they were intended to the first time, without any redesign or rebuild required.  I'm sure it was this discipline of double-checking himself all the time that resulted in his success there.

Today's word

cerebrate \SAIR-uh-brayt\ - to use the mind : think

I love it when I encounter a new word and know what it means on sight.

Avoiding an implication

So a FB friend posted in a suicide prevention group a request for people to share their experiences of a loved one committing suicide.  I can't believe that to be the right venue to say that my father's suicide was a blessing in my life.  The last thing I want to do is suggest to someone who is at all suicidal that, yes, it's rare, but sometimes a survivor just might be better off.

Of course, it also isn't as simple as that.  Yes, I was able to emerge from his disapproving influence, but I no longer assume as I used to that the rest of my childhood in his household would have been worse than what came afterward.  But I had to conclude that before I dealt with the emotional impact that my stepfather subsequently had.

Today's (bald) words

tonsorial \tahn-SOR-ee-ul\ - of or relating to a barber or the work of a barber

tonsure \TAHN(t)-shur\ n. - 1. the Roman Catholic or Eastern rite of admission to the clerical state by the clipping or shaving of a portion of the head  2. the shaven crown or patch worn by monks and other clerics  3. a bald spot resembling a tonsure

(I hate when a definition reuses another sense of the word.  The third definition makes no sense without the second.)


tonsure \TAHN(t)-shur\ v. - to shave the head of; especially : to confer the tonsure upon

(Did I mention that I hate it when they do that?)

Whence our confidence?

Jesus answered them, "This is the work of God: that you believe in him whom he has sent." - Jn 6: 29

Last night we reflected on this verse from this coming Sunday's Gospel.  We must trust God to reveal himself, to provide the gift of faith and the grace to walk in it.  This is his work, not ours, though we must make the choice to embrace it.  I know someone who insists that everything can be explained without God, through science, so there is no reason to believe in God.  (He also contends that faith in God has done more harm than any other thing in human history.)  I am finding that all my reasons for being the person I believe I should be, and all my limited ability to grow into that person, is wrapped up in this work of God.  So even though there may be other explanations (though he hasn't explained where it all came from) for the world, I find I must choose Christ, and I continue believe that this is because of God's work in me.

Now, a few thoughts from a passage I read before going to bed last night (this morning) from Fr. James Martin's book, My Life with the Saints:


It can be especially difficult to accept another's way of discipleship  if we are unsure of our own. 


I suppose the reason I don't get very upset with friends who hold very different beliefs about how the world works than I do is that I'm pretty sure of my way of discipleship.  Indeed, the strident voices we hear propounding their positions in the public square bear witness to this aspect of human nature: defensiveness arises from an inner belief that we may be wrong.  More . . .


The resulting misunderstanding can lead to disagreement and strife within the Christian community.  But it's good to remember that even the saints disagreed with one another - often strongly.  Quarrels between the saints have a venerable tradition in the Christian church, going all the way back to Peter and Paul.  

So what holds things together in the midst of this diversity? What keeps the communion of saints in communion?
The unity of the Christian saints rests on their commitment to Jesus Christ.  Like the early disciples, who trusted the judgment of their master, we must trust God's reasons for calling people quite different from us, even though those reasons may remain mysterious to us . . . 
Perhaps, in fact, all that kept the fractious disciples together was Jesus himself - not so much their reliance on him to settle disagreements, but their fundamental trust in him.

I find this reassuring.  I don't feel as if it is my job to bring others around to my point of view.  By the power and grace of the Holy Spirit, my job is simply to love with the love of Christ, and to let the Holy Spirit take care of the results, as well.

This Dilbert seems somehow related . . .