New job = sore feet

After being out of work for three months, I began a new job yesterday. I'm very happy with the opportunity, the location, the position, even the money. I hope to glorify God in my efforts and interactions there. The time off was great; I had a chance to help family and to relax. Unemployment income kept me laying low and peaceful, I didn't have to think about starting any capital projects.

Today's my second day, and I'm wearing my softest unconstructed shoes that still look like shoes, because in the time I was off, I didn't have "hard shoes" on my feet for more than a couple of hours each week. I rubbed blisters into both my heels, my legs hurt from sitting at a desk all day, my eyeballs were gritty at the end of a long day of contacts (and no naps).

I can't find anything in my briefcase; heck, I can't remember what I kept in it and what's drifted out into regular supply. I stared into the refrigerator this morning, trying to figure out what in there would work as a packed lunch.

In only three months, only 90 days, my body AND mind forgot about work. How it goes, how it feels. I've worked full-time for 20+ years, and I rarely take vacations that last more than a week. I've worn a deep groove on the work treadmill, at least I thought so, until I got off of it for a very brief period.

This is an object lesson for me: I should never assume that I've got my devotional life running just right. Daily Mass? Rosary? Scripture and other spiritual reading? Adoration? Confession? Don't assume they're permanent and unremovable in life, that the change in rhythm would be unendurable, and we would NEVER stop or change.

We're just not that dependable. Only God is dependable.

Another post for luck

I'm still having trouble with blogger, or ATOM feeds, or something. Smoke 'em if you got 'em.....

Ungenerous virgins? Mean old king?

Original post lost....

It was a very nice post about comparing the virgins of today's reading who wouldn't share their oil with the foolish virgins, and the king who threw the guy out from his son's wedding feast, after he was invited in at the last minute, because he didn't have a wedding garment. Readiness is the key; neither the virgins or the wedding guests were expected to bring presents, just themselves, properly armed with lamps, oil, and wedding garments.

I lost the article somewhere in blogger or because of AOL problems. Trust me: it was a nice effort. I won't rewrite it, we'll just move on as soon as we solve our problems....

It's like doing math problems for fun

I went to a riverboat casino yesterday. Took Mom; she's an elderly video poker shark, has all the statistics and plays and odds in her head, spends almost nothing, usually comes out ahead. It certainly keeps her mathematically-inclined brain happy, and I'm not worried about any addictions in her case.

In the morning, I did a swift study of the standard rules of Jacks or Better and Deuces Wild, crammed into that 15-Minute Parking Only slot in your brain where you keep the Rules of the Road until you take the test. I spent what I budgeted, and I "got a lot of play" out of the money. Actually, I lost most of my money on goofy clanging blinking slots with cartoon illustrations and Hee Haw story lines.

Where is the fun in this? Betting at games isn't necessarily evil, but it's such a slippery slope not to dip into the wallet for the extra $20 or more, to spend what you shouldn't. I could feel my brain going out of gear, and had to stop myself from putting more money in the machines by going outside for a few minutes.

It's less seamy than the harness track, people aren't so desperate-looking. But too many of those people at the machines weren't smiling. Hell, they weren't even focussing. They could have been fitting cogs together in a factory, for all their faces said. There certainly isn't any of that tuxedoed champagned elegance, standing at the roulette wheel or the craps table, thrilling at the chase, the nerve, the power of money.

It WAS kind of fun to use rules and see if they worked, for awhile. But the proliferation of casinos in the country does not foretell a taste for doing math problems for fun. It's instead a spread of scratching that sinful itch for distraction. I'm probably being high-and-mighty about this, but it left a bad taste in my mouth, as well as a smoky smell in my hair.

If I evince even the slightest discomfort with casino gambling and casino proliferation in the state, and the dependence of the schools on the tax revenue, I get jumped on as an Old Kill-Joy and Crabby Church Lady. Am I alone in this? Should I get a grip, or a clue?

A yes-no proposition

Today's morning readings in Magnificat (not necessarily in the Liturgy of the Hours) are about Yes and No in Christ. 2 Cor 18-20 contains one of those lines of Scripture that make me want to bang my head on the pew: "As God is faithful, our word to you is not "Yes" and "No." For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who was proclaimed to you by us, Silvanus and Timothy and me, was not "Yes" and "No," but "Yes" has been in Him."

Huh? "Has been in Him?" Not "has always been in Him" or "is now in Him?" The next lines make a lot more sense, although they don't clear up that first sentence: "For however many are the promises of God, their Yes is in Him; therefore, the Amen from us also goes through Him to God for glory."

Okay, that I got. The only way to God the Father is through His Son. Our Amen, our Yes, must go through Him to God the Father. And Jesus is certainly God's final Word, His "Yes," to us.

The morning readings also contain Matthew 5:37: "Let your "Yes" mean "Yes" and your "No" mean "No." Anything more is from the evil one."

Got that, too. Truth in our Yes is the same Truth in the Yes that is in God. From God comes Truth; Jesus channels (sorry about that word) God's Truth, and channels our Yes through Himself to the Father, and vice versa. This must also mean that "No," at least in the face of Truth, can only come through Satan for HIS glory.

I like the fact that St. Paul says in 2 Cor that "the Amen from us also goes through [Christ] to God for glory." It bold-faces the fact that "Amen" means "Yes." How many Amens do we say at Mass? There are a few people at weekday Mass who can't resist throwing in a few extras, not in a praise-and-glory way, but because a prayer must seem unfinished to them.

I'd like to work a little harder on putting a lot of "Yes" in my "Amens."