What Should I Name the Cat?

Animals I have seen in my yard:

  1. Squirrels. Bunch or ’em. They’re everywhere.
  2. Skunk. I don’t mind.
  3. Opossum. I love those critters.
  4. Groundhog. They’re funny.

I was led to believe – by the former owner and by a neighbor – that there were a lot of snakes in the yard, but I ain’t seen a single one, which is disappointing. Prob’ly the skunk and/or opossum ate ’em. They do that.

And I obtained a small, black cat from a tattooed, toothless guy who I see around the North End pretty regular. Shirtless and drunk is how he rolls. I saw him with the cat one day and asked him about it. I thought maybe somebody was giving away kittens and I might want one. He said he caught it. It was a stray. He was happy to give me the cat, which somehow took a few days because I was working when we had this discussion and then he was apparently laid up with liver problems – go figger – but I did eventually get the cat. So now I gotta put up with that. Hopefully, my daughter will come up with a name because if not, it’ll be named “Cat” because that’s what I been calling it. Not that the cat cares.

I lost my mind a bit last month. There’re problems at work and no one was doing anything except me and then I started getting pissed about it and making a lotta noise and nobody continued to do anything and I kirked the fuck out and everybody got really annoyed with me, but then they started to do some of the work that needed doing so maybe being a crazy asshole was what was needed, but I don’t like it. I am not at all happy that I was forced into that role because nobody wanted to take care of our business. But I broke through the other side of it with a vision for how I can radically improve our space. See, our attic is a friggin’ nightmare of decades of filth and debris and I’ma rip the ceiling out, clean all that shit outta there and turn our attic into an office and storage space.

God brought me through that, by the way. I was ready to quit – I actually did give notice, which I might have to walk back before too awful long. I’m not sure I actually wanna quit. I can pull that out of the ditch. But God carried me through my own crazy and got me to the other side of it. I came home from church t’other day and I knew how to move forward on this project. Not that God is necessarily concerned about the attic, but God is necessarily concerned about me. (And you – yes, you.) So I can see how God might be using this whole business with the attic as a way of teaching me something that I might need to know in order to do His work – like maybe, how to address a problem without kirkin’ out and pissing people off. Although Jesus did do exactly that on one occasion that we know of. He mighta done it more times that didn’t get recorded. I have mentioned how comfortable He apparently was when the boat was rocking – and how He rocked the boat pretty hard Himself, which is why the authorities decided to crucify Him. Right now, I don’t see anything about the ELCA that I feel called to raise a ruckus about, but I have no idea what God’s plan is.

I also talked with the new associate pastor at the local Lutheran church and got registered to go to a Vocation Discernment Seminar in a couple weeks. This is a weekend-long gathering of pastors and the Vocation Committee and people like me who have been called, but want help figuring out what exactly that means. I think I’m heading toward being a pastor, but maybe I’m supposed to be a deacon. I dunno. I’ma go with my eyes and ears open and try to learn from folks who know how my gifts and talents can be put to good use. It’s also a chance to mingle with the people who will be giving me a job down the line, so I’ma be on church behavior. Without hiding my dim light under a bushel, I mean.

I’m pretty bad at human interactions. Except when I’m talking with other fucked up, recovering alcoholics. Them is my people – we speak the same language. If it was possible to only interact with other recovering drunks, I would definitely do that. Normal people kinda put me off a little. Unfortunately, while I do think I’ll be interacting with drunks and crazies in my pastorhood, I’m certainly gonna have to talk with some normals from time to time.

Back to the God is concerned about me thing (it isn’t necessary, but He is). That idea was part of the meditation in one of the little books of meditations my church has laying around for people to take. I can’t remember what the Scripture was, but the point was that God thought we were worth dying for – in the person of Jesus – and redeeming through said act. So, God does think we’re worth a damn and that’s something I need to be reminded because I don’t think we’re worth a damn, especially me. I’d been praying for God to lift me up emotionally and then He did it. I’m always surprised when prayer actually works.

I ain’t fixed. God lifted me and will continue to do so because He’ll have to if I’ma be able to serve Him. It might be a daily thing – like staying sober.

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