And I wondered if anybody saw what I saw. I saw people doing what they do, maybe hoping and needing something they can't articulate. People laugh, people cry, or they stuff whatever it is down inside, maybe even without intending it. There was a hunger today; I saw it everywhere; I saw it in myself. Until my phone rang, I thought I'd be at home, dodging who knows how many flaming arrows.
People often lament for others on this day, those who are not "in love," whatever that means. They take it upon themselves to remind others that these lonely ones are out here, and are people too. That's nice, I suppose. It's a little patronizing and self-defeating, however, since the plain fact is that your own erotic success isn't solving that existential hunger.
I realized somehow that I didn't really need the mildly amusing film, or the tub of popcorn, or in any final sense, the friend who called. I needed God, who made the friend, the popcorn, the idea of a story, and the smart person who builds the thing that lets the story be told to many people at once.
I went to Mass today, and before it started, a poor man started to try to preach us out of holy Mother Church. I did recall he said, "Trust in Jesus," and after I was done being embarrassed and annoyed, I felt pity. Jesus is right here, and he has no idea.
After the first reading, I knew: I am a leper. This is what I feel. I thought it through; am I guilty of something close to mind? No, not really. Nothing grave, no reason to feel special shame. Maybe we just feel stained by the world some days, you know? We know Jesus has to cleanse us, even if he does us the mercy of not showing it to us, at least not in full measure.
Lord, I need you.
People often lament for others on this day, those who are not "in love," whatever that means. They take it upon themselves to remind others that these lonely ones are out here, and are people too. That's nice, I suppose. It's a little patronizing and self-defeating, however, since the plain fact is that your own erotic success isn't solving that existential hunger.
I realized somehow that I didn't really need the mildly amusing film, or the tub of popcorn, or in any final sense, the friend who called. I needed God, who made the friend, the popcorn, the idea of a story, and the smart person who builds the thing that lets the story be told to many people at once.
I went to Mass today, and before it started, a poor man started to try to preach us out of holy Mother Church. I did recall he said, "Trust in Jesus," and after I was done being embarrassed and annoyed, I felt pity. Jesus is right here, and he has no idea.
After the first reading, I knew: I am a leper. This is what I feel. I thought it through; am I guilty of something close to mind? No, not really. Nothing grave, no reason to feel special shame. Maybe we just feel stained by the world some days, you know? We know Jesus has to cleanse us, even if he does us the mercy of not showing it to us, at least not in full measure.
Lord, I need you.
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