I’ve been furloughed, sent to the rear for some much-needed R&R at Fair Haven which is off grid. I plant trees, dig wild flowers and plant them around my home, take long walks with my wife, read Louis Lamour, and spend two or three hours alone in the morning sitting outside and watching night become day allowing God quietly to be with me. I spend a lot of time day dreaming, designing futures gardens, looking at young trees, attentive to my blue birds and their new families, smiling at the mountains in front of me as the first rays of sun bring them alive. Somewhere out there I have a sense that America is on fire, that lots of people are angry, that we’re picking sides, dividing up, readying for war. I’m not in no war! I try not to be in conflict with any man except myself. I am the worst of scoundrels, my worst enemy, and my only hope is to seek God’s grace to daily save me from me. I am called to war against only one man, me and my flesh. That is why I regularly need furloughed because evil (mostly spread by hearts on devices) is constantly trying to convince me that other men or my enemies, black men, white men, police men, democratic men, republican men, other men. I am in conflict with no man but me. Anyway, all my bluebirds are fluttering around vying for my attention each wanting to help, in their small way, to save me from me—and this blog was beginning not to help.
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