I Never Feel Like Chicken Tonight

In a world of odd images, this one gets some caliber of merit in my book. Look at this thing. Just odd.

And so it is, sisters and brothers, that sometimes there arises a strict intercession of credo, a jumping-off point, even when we may be inclined to cognitively feel as though we've traversed said chasm.

And so it is sometimes, too, that the event arises as a dust-dervish: silent and invisible, save for that which it pulls in from without. And indeed perhaps it is in these times of quiet and relative calm that decisions are to be peened into shape for use at a later time, for a later event.

Perhaps.

But that's just covering my ass.

Really the events that transpire at this point are very much like dust pulled up in the vortex of that dust-dervish. Maybe spray hurled from the perimeter of the eye of a cyclone. The sea is basically calm, the horizon obscured by thick fog and darkened skies.

Row row row your boat...

Lightening illuminates the troubled, pendulous clouds and the low, throaty growl of thunder washes over the vessel.

...Gently down the stream...

A furtive glance about the boat. Am I alone? Where am I and how did I get exactly here? Rocks and crags. Serpents and marauders. The mind wanders into dark crevasses, cold and eerily dank, where it knows it should not go.

Merrily merrily merrily merrily...

The night may soon close in, constricting and alien. At this late stage, who will come for me? How will someone find me? This voyage is not what I had envisioned, although to be fair, I hadn't envisioned anything at all. I was sold a ticket when I was quite naive, and now have no choice but to find my may. The sail is rent from top to bottom, the oars have been pitched in the earlier tumult, the rudder is splintered and worn. She creaks at the whisper of gale, and she's waterlogged and tired.

...Life is but a dream.

Life is but a dream.

Profoundly wise and virtuous teacher, as I regurgitated fears upon him one afternoon, asked me if I knew the song. "Yeah? How does it go?"

I sputterred, likely blushed, "Oh..."

But no. He pursued until I indeed sang it:

Row row row your boat,

Gently down the stream.

Merrily merrily merrily merrily!

Life is but a dream!

Smiling at me, he may have witnessed the corners of a veil being lifted.

I have some really uncomfortable decisions to make. I need to provide for my family. I've really got to learn the lessons right now.

I've deleted a billion words and will summarize with this: Things are tough, but God has never forsaken me, and I don't think God will now.

Mohammed reminded us that the sparrows never feared for not being provided for.

The disabled man at the Healing Pool at Bethesda told Jesus he couldn't get to the pool because no one would carry him. Jesus responed, "Take up your mat and walk."

Take up my mat indeed.

Row row row my boat, gently down the stream.......