Welcome to the program, everyone. I'll bet Rush Limbaugh says that a lot. I don't know; I'm not a loyal listener. My friend Deb thinks I'd do a great radio show. It would be fun. I think I have the voice...to be left alone. To write books. A voice for books, yes. I got the giggles the other week at Mass, and there was no stopping it. I felt awful, and yet, amused, of course.
The key to making others laugh is being able to make yourself laugh. If you think it's funny, well, you might be a sociopath, but odds are good other ordinary people will, too. Those times when we are glad no one can read our thoughts, aside from the evil things, a lot of the stuff is really funny. I think anxiety in the end is the inability to laugh. [I dunno; that anxious lady we know laughs a ton.--ed.] She doesn't laugh at life; she laughs at her escapes from it. Life is absurd as we find it often. Laughing or crying are often good choices. Drugs are not. Doctors can and should help many of us with mental things beyond our control. But the sheer number of people on medication for all sorts of things--a lot in recent times--suggests something is amiss. Rather than live our lives, we're content to survive them. I don't trust people who don't laugh or cry.
I have a friend I talk to fairly often. It amazes me every time how we can move seamlessly from funny things to serious things and back again. Christians who are funny are that way because they know God is in control, and yet they are not, in some sense. It's a freedom to know that not knowing is far from the worst case. To be unknown and unloved, that may be.
I was thinking that I am more than a part of me. My sexuality, for instance. Such as it is, really. As a single man taking up the adventure of chastity, it's nothing if not interesting. I think there's a 65.4% chance you should shut up if you are married and a single friend expresses his or her desire to be married, and you proceed to lecture them on patience and contentment. Odds are, you yourself were neither, and God gave you that vocation to the praise of His glorious grace. If you're 50, and/or my godparents or spiritual director, feel free to opine. Protestants are worse, though. Way worse.
On the other hand, I can think of hundreds of times where I said, "Unless this happens, I won't be happy." Which is by far the dumbest thing I have either thought or said. If I had been doing theology, I could spot that mistake on paper from 30 miles away. Funny thing about life, though: you find out what you really believe. At the moment, what I really believe is that (if you will pardon the bluntness) I don't need sex to be happy. I need to be loved, and to love in return. How that happens precisely is not for me--who spiritually and otherwise cannot see 6 inches in front of my face--to decide.
I know what you are thinking. Really, I do. "This all sounds noble and pious, but you don't know me or my struggle." True, not exactly. But I certainly do. Whatever detours or emotions are possible here, I've seen them all, if not directly, then close enough. You will never meet a person more ill-suited to this apprenticeship in loneliness than me. Don't even bother trying to tell me otherwise; I don't believe you. But the fact remains that God is Love, and He calls each one of us to be his sons and daughters. Really, what is greater than that? If I have a family and a wife, I think the secret is that this Love is for them, too. None of this is about me or you at all. We all forget sometimes. But it's still true.
The key to making others laugh is being able to make yourself laugh. If you think it's funny, well, you might be a sociopath, but odds are good other ordinary people will, too. Those times when we are glad no one can read our thoughts, aside from the evil things, a lot of the stuff is really funny. I think anxiety in the end is the inability to laugh. [I dunno; that anxious lady we know laughs a ton.--ed.] She doesn't laugh at life; she laughs at her escapes from it. Life is absurd as we find it often. Laughing or crying are often good choices. Drugs are not. Doctors can and should help many of us with mental things beyond our control. But the sheer number of people on medication for all sorts of things--a lot in recent times--suggests something is amiss. Rather than live our lives, we're content to survive them. I don't trust people who don't laugh or cry.
I have a friend I talk to fairly often. It amazes me every time how we can move seamlessly from funny things to serious things and back again. Christians who are funny are that way because they know God is in control, and yet they are not, in some sense. It's a freedom to know that not knowing is far from the worst case. To be unknown and unloved, that may be.
I was thinking that I am more than a part of me. My sexuality, for instance. Such as it is, really. As a single man taking up the adventure of chastity, it's nothing if not interesting. I think there's a 65.4% chance you should shut up if you are married and a single friend expresses his or her desire to be married, and you proceed to lecture them on patience and contentment. Odds are, you yourself were neither, and God gave you that vocation to the praise of His glorious grace. If you're 50, and/or my godparents or spiritual director, feel free to opine. Protestants are worse, though. Way worse.
On the other hand, I can think of hundreds of times where I said, "Unless this happens, I won't be happy." Which is by far the dumbest thing I have either thought or said. If I had been doing theology, I could spot that mistake on paper from 30 miles away. Funny thing about life, though: you find out what you really believe. At the moment, what I really believe is that (if you will pardon the bluntness) I don't need sex to be happy. I need to be loved, and to love in return. How that happens precisely is not for me--who spiritually and otherwise cannot see 6 inches in front of my face--to decide.
I know what you are thinking. Really, I do. "This all sounds noble and pious, but you don't know me or my struggle." True, not exactly. But I certainly do. Whatever detours or emotions are possible here, I've seen them all, if not directly, then close enough. You will never meet a person more ill-suited to this apprenticeship in loneliness than me. Don't even bother trying to tell me otherwise; I don't believe you. But the fact remains that God is Love, and He calls each one of us to be his sons and daughters. Really, what is greater than that? If I have a family and a wife, I think the secret is that this Love is for them, too. None of this is about me or you at all. We all forget sometimes. But it's still true.
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