Frantic phone calls had plagued her night. They did every full moon, for whatever reason. As it waned, so too would the robberies, DUIs and domestic violence, until they reached their normal levels again. It was enough to make a person superstitious. Most of the emergency dispatchers and responders believed that it was better to have those nights off, just not strongly enough to ever make the request.
One of my closest friends is moving away. He’s not the first and he will not be the last. I was verklempt about it when he told me over coffee rather early on a Monday morning a few weeks ago. That lasted about five minutes and I’ve been annoyed about it since. I’m not sure if exasperation falls into the anger stage of grieving, but it’s where I’m at. Some of this deals with the fact that this friend is also the rector of the church I serve at. That carries with it dozens of its own implications. The most important aspect of my contention, (my personality aside) is the fact that this move will put our lives are on divergent paths. He’s moving home to South Dakota (I told him to enjoy his frozen hell) and I will remain in Idaho for the time being- that is, until I finally make my way toward the equator more permanently.
This whole week, I’ve been a mess of sleepiness and snot, coughing and congestion. Basically, I’m bringing sexy back one tissue at a time. Some sicknesses are a thing to be powered through while others make me question the value of my own existence and that of everything around me, too. This time around hasn’t quite been like that, but as usual, I had some questions for The Almighty about this. The following is a transcript of our conversation this evening:
Me: Why on earth am I sick? What did you do?
God: Wow. You went straight to finger-pointing. You sure you want to do that?