Talk To Me

It is hard to write essays when you know your mom is reading them. If I advance an idea that she doesn't like, or use one of those words that, in prior years, automatically got my mouth a date with some soap, my mom will call me on the carpet over it. Not that I automatically cower in her presence. Both of my parents have come to realize that, while their children have a healthy respect and love for them, we also have ideas and beliefs that differ from theirs. When they come across some aspect of our behavior that troubles them, they talk to us about it. For the most part. Certain political discussions are avoided like the plague.

On the other hand, my in-laws talk to me about absolutely nothing. Example? This blog. Up until now I assumed that their refusal to have anything to do with the Internet meant that my at times profane meanderings were out of their sphere. I guessed wrong. My wife talked to them on the phone a few days ago, and in the course of the conversation they mentioned that someone in their church read my blog, and am I really not interested in Christ any more? And do I really have to use that kind of language? I'm sorry if they got that impression, but if they really wanted to know the real story, I'm only a phone call away.

So someone from Chippewa Lake Baptist Church is reading this, huh? Well, Chippewa, this Bud is for you.

I have spent the past three or four years detailing the highlights and lowlights of my spiritual journey, but I am 42 years old, with two children who are disabled, and I just can't care about the minutiae of church life anymore....Yeah, I am just a tad bitter these days. I am bearing the weight of three worlds on these shoulders. No wonder that I just don't have the time for the bullshit anymore, whether it be in church or in life.

Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.