and God stretched out a hand over the water...

One of those days where you can feel that invisible hand moving you like a chess piece. I ate lunch with Sister Carol and we had a long talk about faith and growing up in Texas. It was pleasant. There is something delightful about having lunch with a diminutive nun who carries on this running conversation with God.

Afterwards I helped sort the gifts from the giving tree we had, and I just wanted to cry while I was carrying all those bags and boxes. So many people bought extra things, gave so much. All day the gifts kept arriving, so I would come out to the hall and find my stack had multiplied in the two minutes I was gone. All those toys...

When I go to Mass at St. Thomas More, or any other church around town, I feel like I'm coming home. It's the most wonderful thing.

Today was not planned. It was wonderful.

digital

Earlier I re-read some old notes in a battered notebook. They tell me I shouldn't burn my notebooks anymore, that I should keep it all even if it seems so wretched or painful. Maybe they are right. Sometimes I long for the ones I destroyed, almost four years ago now. Thought it made so much sense at the time, to exorcise my demons with fire and leave no trace of the nightmare. I wonder now. There is no way back. I have to keep reminding myself, "...you can't go back, you can't turn around, walk don't run, go go go go go..."

Sometimes I worry about reality. As if I had any way to know. I dream that everything is a dream, a coma induced hallucination, a fiction of my own making and I am not really here I am nothing more than a construct in my own idea... the kind of idea that brings on panic, the shaking, the trembling in the dark and harsh uneven breathing.

One day I'm going to have to get over this. I have to either find peace or find a way to live without being able to know the absolute truth. It's so hard to trust, forgive me. I know, I know, I know, I repeat it over and over.

"guilty by design she's nothing more than fiction she dreams in digital cause it's better than nothing now that control is gone it seems unreal she's dreaming in digital"

sound out loud

I like the ou vowel sound in English.

It occurs to me that it seems random to profess faith in God, and still have panic attacks about the nature of reality. I spent the first eighteen years of my life as an atheist. There is still a lot of hardwired reaction inside me, the things I grew up with.

Slowly I'm taking it apart and looking into myself. Some things come easier now, others don't. Faith is still hard. But I don't think it is supposed to be easy.

I believe. I believe. I have trouble trusting, but I do believe.

Tomorrow I'm going to run and run and run.....