This is how i always feel
And "this" is also still an anagram.

I feel at home . . .

. . . in winter. . . 
. . . in the cold, dark of this bleak season.

All it takes . . .

. . . to be the Father's obedient son (or daughter) is one decision . . . at a time.

And all it takes to be the disobedient one is one decision, too.

It's just a matter of what we want more, and of letting the Holy Spirit provide enough faith in God, enough grace, to trust that God's will for us is really better than our own.

Sometimes I'm that humble.

Too often I am not.

Stupidity and self-destruction don't win, this time

Looks like my hand is going to heal up just fine. And it also looks as if the four weeks it took me to get in to see a doctor - a delay which was mostly not my fault - hasn't had any adverse effects on it, either.

I fear I have become . . .

. . . Pink.

(not to be confused with P!nk)

Today's word

mutatis mutandis /myoo-TAH-tis-myoo-TAHN-dis/ - 1. with the necessary changes having been made 2. with the respective differences having been considered

I love that the examples in this write-up are non-legal.

Strange dreams . . .

In the first dream that I remember from last night, my great aunt Emma was alive. The dream started with an accidental kick in my crotch somehow - I wonder if that was the dog IRL? We hadn't seen each other in decades, so she thought I might not recognize her, but although she looked like a woman in her nineties (okay, not 112, as she'd probably be right now) there was no mistaking her. I tried to get Teri to see if our granddaughter who shares her name could come over to meet her, but that wasn't going to work out.

In my second dream, we were trying to spruce up a school. There were many furnishings that had to be moved around in or removed from various classrooms. Then we had to plant grass seed so that it could take root in the dirt of some of those classrooms before they covered it with carpet. (What can I say: dreams don't always make sense.) As I was leaving, it was night time, and there was a football game going on. A player named Damien Rice, who in my dream was Ray Rice's younger brother, had won the game with a dazzling long play. I tried to congratulate him from my car after the game, but he didn't want that attention from someone of my skin color (again, this was just a dream), and especially resented that I tried to claim some sort of emotional investment in him as a result of my Ravens' fanship. His friends definitely had his back, as everyone convinced me to just leave him alone.

In my third dream, my mother-in-law had outlived her husband (the opposite of their order of passing IRL), and I was helping her prepare to move into an assisted living facility. She wanted to do this, but I was helping her because, in my dream, none of the other family members supported her in this decision. She offered me a couple of different furnishings from the house as we prepared for her move. I woke up with two memories of her: how much she'd despised me, but also how she'd never shown me that and that I only learned of it after she had passed away. 

I hate that the people in my life allowed this knowledge to get back to me, but it isn't as if I deserve to not live with it.