Today’s post was going to be a 500 word examination of the ‘Sherlock’ version of Mycroft Holmes and how they’ve ruined that fabulous character for the sake of cheap laughs.
That may happen tomorrow. Instead, today seems to be invaded by a mass of swirling thoughts and emotions I can’t pin down.
There is rain here. Actual rain, steadily falling and soaking into the ground. Green is starting to slowly seep back into our graass and the trees have stopped looking so forlorn. It’s wonderful. I can’t complain about the pain because I honestly don’t mind it. I’ll hurt like this if it means these things that I love–this lawn, these plants, these trees–can stay alive. And of course my mind then instantly went to God–as it often does. I swear I’d be the worst atheist ever because I would have nothing to think about. In a conversation with an atheist last week I mentioned the term “faith bias” and s/he had never heard it before. (It makes one wonder, frankly, about the education system.) I am clearly a walking case of faith bias in that most of my thoughts lead back to God one way or another.
I do sometimes pity God and I wonder if that isn’t a sort of blasphemy. It shouldn’t be, because pity is not the “look down upon” emotion that our culture has made it over to be. At least I don’t think so. Not always. But now that I look out the window and watch the rain going to ground I think how excited I am about the grass turning green again. And then I wonder how it would be if I loved each and every blade of grass in all the lawns as if they were my children. My heart couldn’t sustain that burden. I know. I have enough of a hardship loving one man and two dogs. I can’t imagine loving stalks of lawn to that degree. Poor God, you know?
But yeah, I’ll put up with the crippling pain and nausea if it means the plants can drink. I get God tolerating crucifixion.
Now that I say that, though, I need to say something else. Tolerating pain isn’t noble. It doesn’t make you special or tough or extra wonderful. I keep reading books where heroes accept pain without comment and are admired by the crowd. That’s just stupid. Pain hurts, and it hurts badly–nevermind what Dalton said. To withhold pain medication from others because of the fear of addiction is barbaric. To withhold pain medication from others because of the desire to experience closeness with God is, frankly, demonic. It’s evil. People should make their own choices about pain management–those choices shouldn’t be made for them by bureaucrats or nuns.
And now I’m rambling. Well, I was always rambling, but at least for awhile there the rambling looked like it might be somewhat coherent. Time to push back from the desk and struggle up the steps, where a cold Coke awaits like the promise of joy. Oh and that’s another thing. I’m going to start going off, repeatedly, on an individual basis, every time someone posts something “anti” soda. Great if you don’t drink it or let your kids drink it. But GET YOUR NOSE OUT OF MY BUSINESS. Yes, I drink soda. I enjoy soda. It’s one of the very few pleasures left to me, along with reading. Find a different culprit for your ragemania, people.