Positive

For a twelve (at least) dimensional being “trapped” in a four dimensional universe (everyone forgets to include time), and under the inherited impression I am mortal, I am doing pretty good.

(Do you need a moment to think that through?... Take your time...)

:)

I’ve had a lot going on the last couple of years. Met a gal, pretty sweet; we dated for a while. I went to Thailand. The last child in my home moved out, joining Job Corps in Astoria, Oregon. I broke up with that gal. It was a mutual decision and done kindly on both sides.

I signed up for eHarmony and got serious about finding someone to share my life with. Whew! That was quite the process. I probably had over 300 matches. Sent initial, canned questions to 200 or so. Got to the point of emailing 30 or 40. Twenty or so of those I dated. Ten or so I took out four or five times. One of them was an instant click and over a couple of months we went from virtual greetings to betrothal. We saw no need for taking too much time so we married last December.

How’s that for something positive?

I got home one afternoon and she asked me to come into the bedroom to talk and handed me a white plastic stick that looked sort of like one of those digital thermometers) somehow I still feel the need to shake those vigorously before using).

Where there should have been a digital readout indicating a fever or something were two thin lines. I knew what it was, what it meant. Still... I had trouble applying the information to my life. It was like seeing data from AMANDA (Antarctic Muon And Neutrino Detector Array) reinforcing the theories which point to additional dimensions. I get it. I see what it is saying. I just have trouble applying it.

It was a pregnancy test.

It was positive.

Positive.


Like the heart of atoms, those tiny beating hearts of all matter, positrons... positive.

I’m going to be a father.

Biologically.

Sometime in August.

I am going to raise another child. Physically, emotionally, spiritually.

My wife is a wonder. She is from Belize. Her spiritual life is very important to her and that is very refreshing. In my first marriage consistent prayer and biblical readings were attempted now and then, but never sustained.

We are reading from the beginning (Genesis), but intersperse those reading with readings germane to Sunday Sermons and other interests.

We pray all the time. Sure, every meal, but, each morning, as we go to bed, and whenever there is a question, issue, or event which needs our attention.

Here is a big one: We met the doctor who is going to deliver our child. I like her. A "plain folks" type who looks like she might be as much at ease bucking hay as discussing delicate issues regarding pregnancies. My wife has had fibroid tumors removed and one of those had been large enough to weaken the uterus wall, making the birth dangerous. There are a half dozen or so still, up to six centimeters. Those will inhibit the expansion of her womb and there is a chance that there won’t be enough room for the child late term. Which might force us to have her deliver early.

We welcome your prayers.

Good news from the blood work. Risk of Down's Syndrome is one in 500 and trisomy 18 one in 10K. Very low risk.


Meanwhile, back at Greenleaf Manor, the little woman is busy feathering her nest. She has rearranged every room in the house. She even talked me into taking a hammer to the bricks which surrounded the wood stove (now warming someone else’s shop).

We are talking color schemes for the living room, kitchen and den, errrr... baby’s room. (The man cave will need to move to the attic.)

I love the passion she feels for things of the spirit. Night before last we tackled the first five chapters of the book of Job. I went back to the first post of my blog Job’s Tale and shared it with her. I pointed out the pattern of the book and how I felt a small piece of the book was misplaced (Satan approaches God, The conflict is set up, the three friends arrive, wait, and then the discourse begins with each friend speaking in turn three times, Job replying each time, then a weird gap in the pattern for the third friend, then youth speaks, and then the interchange between God and Job).

I’ve been busy at work, busy with side projects (some video work in the works), working on that novel, and getting used to my new life.

All good.

Snow

It is 2:00 in the morning. I have just awoken from a dream that felt wonderful... I must write it down:

-------------------

I was invited to the White House. There was snow all around, the soft yellow light coming from the large lantern chained to cupola over the porch made the white blanket over the lawns inviting... I walked across the snow and was welcomed by three former presidents.





Bill Clinton shook my hand, and the elder Bush led me into the East Wing, tugging at my elbow. His son followed.

I felt very patriotic. It was heady, meeting these men who'd held state secrets, led our nation, had made decisions which had safeguarded my country while I slept in ignorance.

The elder Bush, suddenly looking a little as if he'd stepped into the room from over two centuries ago asked me to come with him.

We walked to the Oval Office. He opened a cabinet and took out a musket. It was a beautiful weapon, fine wood, fine craftsmanship. It had a bayonet on it and looked like it might have been used during the Revolutionary War.


The Secret Service men standing discretely against a wall shifted nervously.

"This belonged to George Washington," he said. "Would you load it for me?"

It seemed I was an expert at such things (though I have never actually handled such a weapon). I knew what to do. In a few moments the gun was ready and I handed it back to the president.

I thought he was going to fire it from the porch, but he'd just gone to the window and held the gun while looking out over the snow.

He turned to us.

"There is something I've always wanted to do..."

He took a book down from a shelf, opened it with practiced ease, and began to read.

It was a poem by George Washington. It described a journey he'd made during the Revolutionary War. As the president read the poem the images of the countryside around our nation's capitol seemed to come alive and I was taken by vividness of the prose.



When he'd finished reading the poem he smiled, and put the book down. He called for one of the Secret Service agents who came and listened for a few moments. The man consulted with a microphone on his wrist, straightened up, picked up the musket, and left through the doors into the night.


A few moments later I heard a horse move off with muffled gait into the darkness.

The president looked at us, smiled and said: "I've always wanted to have someone who'd taken that particular journey come and tell me what it felt like. If you wish, you are welcome to wait for three days and hear it yourselves."

---------------

I woke from the dream, my new wife going to the restroom, a deep sense of patriotism filling me.

It was a wonderfully vivid and unusually emotional dream and I had to write it down.

A New Love

I have tried to write a post about this latest chapter in my life... but... it didn't feel right.

Now a good friend has asked me some pointed questions and in answering her I wrote from the heart and I think, with a little editing to protect some privacy, I can share it with you.

------------------------

Fair enough.

I tried to write a post about it... but, I have to be delicate about M's rights, ---'s rights, and share the elements I feel are most important, all are difficult.

Perhaps what I write now can be the seed and rough draft for a post.

So, here goes.

I'll answer your questions in roughly the order given.

How Long have I known M? Not long. I exchanged emails for a couple of weeks through eHarmony. Out first date was September 28. Our second date was September 29th. Our third date was September 30.

She does not have children. She has never been married. She had one serious relationship about 18 years ago. She has been praying for someone to share her life with, but gave up just 3 weeks before I contacted her. She prayed about it and told God she would give it one more try, me, before settling for a single, celibate life.

Since that first week we have gotten together about once a week. She comes down and stays with her friend, J, in Hillsboro. J had talked her into moving down to Oregon. So, just as we met, she was moving her furniture from her condo to a storage unit and looking for work in Oregon. She now has leased her condo out and is staying with her brother until she can find a job here, staying with her current job in Kirkland until then.

I spoke with T about her quite a bit. In fact I have arranged for him to provide couple's counseling and she and I have already taken the initial surveys (Christian) and the initial reports are already back.

I also called a meeting with my Moon Howling buddies and spent quite a bit of time sharing with them about this.

Would DG approve? I think he does. We have gone over there and had desert with them. I've spoken with him several times, and he has had no words of warning, and I he wouldn't be shy.

There are the answers to your questions, now for the real stuff.

I have thought about this a great deal, and have prayed over it an enormous amount.

I have questioned myself... is this because I am lonely? Is this because I want a woman in my house? Nope, nope.

I looked around. I have been discriminating. --- is a good person. But, she wasn't for me, I am not right for her.

That is all I want to say about that except, I watched our relationship, and did not push it past what was right. I knew when it was time to rethink it.

At one point in eHarmony I had 168 women on my match list. I looked carefully at them. I corresponded. There were probably 30 or 40 I emailed more than 3 times.

Of those I dated about a dozen of them.

Of those I took 4 of them out at least three times.

Two of those were special. I felt an instant friendship with them, a closeness. But neither of them felt like they were meant for me as a mate (though one of them feels she would have and is, despite my best efforts, is quite hurt, though we never did more than hold hands for a minute or two). But, though I think they would be good friends, I don't think they are meant to be more.

Then there is M.

She took weeks to respond to my inquiries.

Finally we started emailing.

Our first date was at Giovanni's in Beaverton. I thought we had been in the restaurant for an hour, but... it was three!

I instantly felt great excitement about her.

She is very innocent. Never done drugs. No children. Hasn't much in the way of hobbies... except church. She is passionate about the Lord.

Every night we talk to each other for an hour or so. And every night we pray together for about twenty minutes. Last night I couldn't sleep. It was after 1:00 a.m. and I texted her. She was awake, so I called. We each lay in the dark and talked for over an hour.

I tried to get to that sort of sharing with Brenda for many years.

I prayed a lot. And there were three times the Lord sent me a confirmation.

1. I alluded to this this morning in church. I was praying a prayer of thanksgiving. I was thanking the Lord for all the things He has done for me. I was especially thanking Him for the times He showed up when things were rough. Willy's death. Understanding the challenges of our sons. Brenda's first affair. The church fire. Brenda's second affair. Our divorce. Then, quite clearly, I got a message, which could be put this way:

"I am also there in the good times. I am going to give you something good now."

2. M and I were on the couch, talking. Suddenly her appearance changed. Her hair had grey in it, her face, age lines, and I had the sudden certainty I would see that for real. I will live long enough to share years with this woman.

3. A real concern I have about a potential relationship with M is a desire she has: children. She isn't adamant about it, she had pretty much given up on that dream, even the dream of finding a partner, but still, it is there. And I needed to consider it.

I have had that dream. For so many years Brenda and I tried to have children. We bought this house while we were overjoyed about her pregnancy. That was a tubal pregnancy which could have killed her.

Still, there were several times I was reassured by the Lord I would have children. Once it was a verse sent by a missionary who had met my mother, telling her that she (Mom) had a son who wanted children and the Lord had a verse for me... a psalm of King David's about a man having many children (Psalm 127:5).

I prayed for so many years for children. I felt God told me I would have children. I kept bringing up the story of Abraham and reminding God He had promised Abraham children and gave him promised the children. I promised God that if He gave me a child I would do as Abraham did, and give my child to God.

I did.

After getting Willy I held a celebration of thanksgiving, inviting friends to a huge meal in celebration and where I promised to raise that child in any way God wanted.

And God took him.

I hurt.

But, God was there, through it all. I was hurt, angry, and grateful for God's continued presence. I angrily told God I was upset, that God had asked Abraham to give Him Isaac, but He took my son.

Then, He gave me two children... the first... Isaac. Isaac was two, and he had the name echoing the promise God gave Abraham.

Still, secretly, I wished for a child of my own flesh. It was an undercurrent to many of our marital problems.

Over the years I gave up on that dream. I have, in recent years, given up the idea I would have biological children and have begun dreaming other plans for my future.

Now, here is M wondering if I might be willing to fulfill that dream of hers.

I took it to God in prayer.

Reluctantly. Am I too old for children? I am 54.

And, I clearly heard:

"How old was Abraham when I fulfilled my promise to him?"

Abraham accepted he was too old (100).

So... there are the three confirmations.

Meanwhile, I find myself enthralled with her.

She isn't perfect. I see how she has little interest in the things I am so curious about, science and art, and all sorts of music and literature. But, she is interested in sharing my life, and loves learning of the things I like to think about. (But seriously, who would be so enraptured by such stuff? For example, I have lately been reading all I can about three subjects, dark matter, magnatars, and entangled particles. HA! Seriously, who else thinks about this stuff?)

But, she is strong in her faith. Perhaps a touch pentacostal, but maybe that isn't really a bad match for me either!

To me she is incredibly beautiful. I know she isn't a perfect beauty, but there are features she has which I have memorized. Her eyes... There is a curve to the inside of her upper eyelids I find enchanting. I also love the smooth curve of her neck. Her fingers... I have never seen such long nails... not the part which stick beyond the fingertips, but the part over the end of the fingers. Her fingers are slender and lovely, and the nails increase that impression.

I think about her all the time. I love her. I love her in a way I never loved Brenda. I trust her. I believe in her.

I believe she is someone God has made for me.

Does that answer all your questions?

:)

Ouch! Gribbet Snort Gaheez! Mmmmmmmm...

A little update...

Earlier this Summer, early July, I caught a large piece of furniture from tipping over. It took a few months to figure it out, but I tore a tendon that afternoon.

It was a typical stupid, male move. God created men and women to balance each other. On our own men tend to do dumb things. We don't ask for directions, we never read the instructions, and we are always ourselves putting ourselves in a position where we are faced with handling something too large for us.

Came out cool though.

Wednesday I had surgery on it. They made a few small incisions, shaved off a bone spur, sliced open the tendon and pulled it over two screws put in the bone.

Ouch!

So, I'm on pain killers. I'm not much for turning myself into a drooling, loopy, invalid, but it helps me to relax and therefore, heal.

So, I lie here in bed, wearing an oxycodone smile and muttering "Gribbet Snort Gaheez! Mmmmmmmm..."

It'll be better soon.

:)

Sharing

On a business trip I found myself l alone in Orlando, Florida for a few days. I had to kill some time (well, perhaps “spend” is a better term; I don’t want to be accused of chronomicide), so I went to Disneyworld.

It wasn’t much fun. I stood in lines, once in a while making small talk with the families and lovers around me. After a ride I’d bounce down the path, momentarily thrilled, which quickly evaporated.

I like movies, but they are a little shallow when I see them alone. I want to share the plot twists, talk about the actors’ skills, the directors’ choices.

Reading books, listening to music, going on hikes, camping, are joys deepened by sharing.

Not everyone is like that. I know people who do such things alone and enjoy them thoroughly. Not me. I prefer to savor experiences with someone.

I’ve a lot of freedom now. Single. Kids moved out. I need to go home to feed Bogie, my mutt from the pound, but my schedule is completely filled with my choices.

I’m not going to the movies. I’m not going out to eat. Such things feel empty without someone beside me.

Oh, I’m fine puttering around my house, doing little projects. I’m comfortable with myself, and Bogie seems to enjoy my explaining to him what we’re doing next. :) It’s just not a full experience.

I think God understands this. I know He does. First, He made me, and He “gets” me (glad someone does!). But, I think as omniscient and omnipotent God is, I think there is something He needs.

God is love.

Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. 1 John 4:8


God IS love.

Love is giving oneself to another.

Love requires something.

Love requires someone to love.

God requires someone to love.

This makes sense. Before He created Earth, before He created Angels, before He created time, He was.

Forever. There was eternity before there was time. And in that eternity there was only God. A triune being of pure love.

We have a little trouble with the idea of the trinity, a being three in one. Sometimes it helps to use the metaphor of being a two dimensional being observing the intersection of a three dimensional being who place three fingers of a single hand on his universe (was that unclear? I can go into greater detail if you like.).

Perhaps a better metaphor for myself is the parts of myself which view the universe differently. There is my mind, which likes to observe, measure, record, define, ruminate. There is my heart which, admittedly, is a little soft. It reacts more slowly than my mind, responds to the grief of others, responds to the hardships of others, responds to the joy of others. There is my spirit. (This is the slippery part.) My spirit senses things the other parts don’t. That part senses beauty and eternity and God.

Perhaps that is the closest I can come to imagining how a single being can be three.

Perhaps that is how I can understand a little how God is love, something that requires someone to love, when He was there before there was even an eternity to share with angels.

Yes God, God don't never change
He's God, always will be God
God in the middle of the ocean
God in the middle of the sea
---Blind Willie Johnson

Interesting that creating angels was only the first part of His desire to share His love with others beyond the community of a triune self. He went on to create a race of beings who are inherently self centered, capable, even disposed to, being selfish. Perhaps winning the love of the selfish is sweeter.

All this is beside my point (sorry for the rabbit trail). My point is, I long to share my life. (You know, I’m NOT sorry for the rabbit trail!) This isn’t about being codependent.

I just want to share.

Long Time, No See!

Hi folks.

Yeah, I've neglected this little online journal this past summer. In the main that is because things have been going well.

Started dating a gal. Real sweet one. For a little more than a year.

Loved her kids too. Every Monday all summer they came over and we worked on a tree fort.

But... that's over.

Hey, it ain't that bad. Ain't that good, but, I'm a big boy, and I'm OK.

We are working on transitioning to friends. It's a little awkward, but I think it will be fine. She's on vacation with her kids at Disneyland and I'm dog sitting for her. See? It's cool.

She did me a lot of good. Helped shake me out of habits I've had for years, echoes of my marriage. It feels like I'm on the road for being my own fella.

It also feels a little sad. A little like failure.

But, as I said, I think it's good.

She has been pretty independent for a long time. On her own. And I think she may be a little more independent than the kind of relationship I want.

If I remarry I want it to be with a full partner, a full sharing. Best friends. Shared lives to the grave.

So... That's that.

In other news...

Jeremiah has been reevaluated by the State of Oregon and deemed not to need the level of care he has been receiving, so he needs to move somewhere cheaper. Hopefully that will be worked out soon.

Isaac is in Job Corp at Tongue Point in Astoria, Oregon. Today Jeremiah and I went to see him (it's about a 2.5 hour drive). He has a friend who went with us. We went to Fort Stevens, and the Astoria Column. Had pizza. I took him shopping for a few things he needed.

Isaac & His Friend (Just Friends, honest)

Fort Stevens - Firing Reproduction of Civil War Cannon

Atop the Astoria Column
(We threw Balsa Wood Airplanes into the Forest!)

That was today...

Earlier this summer my buddies and I had another moon howlin'. It was a good one. I intended to write about it, but it never happened (I remodeled my bedroom, worked on my house...).

We fired a spud gun, and shot a target with a rifle, had a beer, cooked hunks of meet on sticks, talked serious, spiritual... We told stupid jokes. In fact, I said something that we all felt we could take away from the night. After laughing really hard at a really dumb joke, I said... "Keep in mind guys, sometimes STUPID IS IMPORTANT."

We might have to put that on T shirts.

I've lots of other stuff I could say right now... political, scientific, spiritual... but, I reckon that's enough for now.

Update

Life is good.

Sometimes strange.

Sometimes not what I would choose, but if it were left to me to script my life it would be so comfortable I would never grow.

Overall, it’s been good. That is why I haven’t posted much of late. When things are good there isn’t such a need to vomit up the toxins.

So, I’ll just post a little catch up stuff.

Jeremiah is going to move again. The State of Oregon reassessed his needs and determined that he does not need the level of support he has been getting, so they reduced the funding for him and that forces him to move to a home with less support staff.

I think this will be good because the other residents where he live have such great handicaps that he never connected with them. Never made friends with them. He made friends with the staff.

They will be letting me know about some other places Brenda and I can visit to choose his next home.

I spent six hours with Brenda on Tuesday.

Kid stuff again.

Isaac was accepted about two years ago for the Job Corps and finally moved in to Tongue Point Job Corps at Astoria, Oregon.

Brenda was going to drive, but I quietly insisted. “I’ll just pick you up on the way,” I texted.

It’s two and a half hours there and I dreaded the trip back alone with her.

Simple solution: invite Jeremiah along.

The place is a lot like a military base.


Check in at the gate. We were escorted to the dorm, followed a military style truck... They seemed a little surprised at how Jeremiah, Brenda, and I came in with him for check in. They went through Isaac’s bags. The only thing not permitted was the mouthwash (contains alcohol).

On the way back Jeremiah fell asleep in the seat beside me. Brenda, in the cramped back seat of the Mustang, started apologizing again. She said she had made a huge mistake, that she was sorry for all the hurt she caused me. She cried.

There was an awkward silence.

I didn’t want to open any doors, not even a crack.

“Thank you for saying that,” I finally said.

I always want to comfort those who hurt. This time though... this time if I showed any movement toward her or her feelings, well, she would take it the wrong way.

We stopped and ate.

The house is too quiet.

I’ve heard about empty nesters going through adjustments.

Part of me resents that this time in my life, the time I had fantasized about, when the kids are gone and it is just me and my spouse, has been thrown away by someone I trusted.

I’ve been in a bit of a funk all week. The house is too empty.

Last night I was texting a friend who asked how I was doing.

“I miss Isaac.”

Those simple words made me choke up. Before that moment I had made comments about how strange it was to have the house so quiet. I said things about the absence of helping someone with meals, or sharing the bathroom. But those simple words, “I miss Isaac” seemed to so clearly say what was really at the heart of my funk, I choked up a little.

I remembered the key moments in raising him. The clear spirit-led guidance that brought us together. And moments of his life with me. His first joke. Teaching him to ride a bike.

The moment I first saw him... I was standing in the living room of the orphanage. Looking out the sliding glass door, across the patio to the bedroom filled with cribs... and there he was, jumping up and down... “Daddy, daddy, daddy!!!” he was shouting.

This is a challenging time of the school year. The tasks, the lessons, the projects coming due, are all made more difficult by the many culminating fields trips of various courses and programs, and by the behavior of the adolescents wound up by the nearing Summer Break, the good weather, and the chemical imbalances nature sometimes inflicts on the brains of carbon-based life forms during Spring.

School ends in a little over a week.

I’m adjusting to an empty house and the changing schedule.

It’s all good.