Fat Tuesday

I love Fat Tuesday with its almost obligatory gluttony.  The Mardi Gras atmosphere, the fried chicken and dirty rice, the gumbo and bread pudding…it is all soooo good.  Fat Tuesday gives you that unspoken permission to step over that overindulgence line without any residual guilt.  

But…now it’s Ash Wednesday and I must don my sackcloth, put on ashes and 'tuff' it out for the next 40 days. 

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for Fat Tuesdays and Lent…but…widening my phylacteries and lengthening my tassels, blowing my trumpet and praying on street corners will not get the job done.  Please give me the wisdom and the strength to do Your will not mine.

Amen.

Lent, Lent or Lint?

The Early Wednesday Morning Breakfast Club sat around munching on biscuits and discussing what should be done about lent.  No…not the past tense of “lend” and no…not the fuzzy stuff that collects on your dryer filter or in your belly button.

We talked about the “lent” that starts on Ash Wednesday, 40 days before the first full moon after the vernal equinox not counting Sundays or the last part of Holy Week…that “lent”…the 40 days of fasting “lent”. 

We thrashed out the traditional giving up stuff…stuff like chocolate.  Or maybe doing something positive or maybe doing nothing.  If you lived your life as if lent were everyday…then maybe there should be no need to improve yourself. 

I wanted to be in the “don’t do anything” category but I do recognize the need to improve my spiritual disposition.  So, maybe I’ll give up cokes…soda water…pop.  I can do that…besides that stuff isn’t good for me anyway.  I need to work on my self-discipline…self-denial…build up some spiritual character and integrity.

This Lent I shall take advantage of the opportunity and develop my self-control, but first I feel obligated to support the Fat Tuesday Church sanctioned benefit that offers a tasty world famous gumbo and bread pudding.

Dear Lord Jesus, I pray

The bread pudding won’t jeopardize

A chance for spiritual exercise.

Lent is an occasion to step up to the plate

And push away from the dinner plate.

I’ve not done so well in the past

But, now I must fast at last.

How can I expect to know what’s up

Unless I taste of Your cup?

If I do what you want me to

Perhaps...then, I can start anew.

Amen.

Quitting Time

Hands down…no contest…the best part of each day is quitting time. At the end of the day…after slugging it out with all the mental and physical trials and tribulations...there is nothing better than going home to a hot shower and washing away all the frustration, dirt and grit. Each day at quitting time I am worn out.  Each day I am glad I have a job that I can quit.  Each day as I slop through the mud and muck, I think, why wasn’t I born with a silver spoon in my mouth or rich and famous?

Oh…I know why.  Each day at quitting time I get a good feeling…a feeling of accomplishment. 

Thank you, Lord Jesus

For the ability to work

So...I shan't be a jerk

I’ll get rid of the smirk

And I'll do your work.

Amen

Rain

After many sunny days and a long drought, the rains fell, filling the barrow ditches to over flowing.  It was an answer to many prayers.  I have to admit that I was not helping much on the praying.  I know we need rain but I also know that with rain comes mud.  And it always seem I am working in the mud…mud that test my endurance and tries my patience.    I don’t mind the rain, it's usually gone in a few hours but the mud sticks around forever. It makes me want to stay inside and write or read...maybe I’ll just take a nap.

THE DAY is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,

But at every gust the dead leaves fall,

And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains, and the wind is never weary;

My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past,

But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,

And the days are dark and dreary.

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.

                              The Rainy Day

                                       By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Thank you,

Lord Jesus for the rainy break,

For a bit of oil and a little cake.

Of this day what shall I make?

From work a break I shall take.

Amen.

Wisdom?

Journal Entry--Thursday 2-9-2012

I’ve always heard of King Soloman and of his legendary wisdom but listening to the first reading (1Kgs 11:4-13). I couldn’t help but question just how wise was he?  

“When Solomon was old his wives had turned his heart to strange gods,”…

“By adoring Astarte, the goddess of the Sidonians,

and Milcom, the idol of the Ammonites,

Solomon did evil in the sight of the LORD;”…

“Solomon then built a high place to Chemosh, the idol of Moab,

and to Molech, the idol of the Ammonites,

on the hill opposite Jerusalem.

He did the same for all his foreign wives

who burned incense and sacrificed to their gods.”

How smart was that?  And how many foreign and/or domestic wives did he have?  I don’t see the wisdom in that.  There are days I question the wisdom in having one wife.  But then I must remember God has strange ways.  For it appears that: Noah was a drunk, Abraham was too old, Isaac was a daydreamer, Jacob was a liar, Leah was ugly, Joseph was abused, Moses had a stuttering problem, Gideon was afraid, Sampson had long hair and was a womanizer, Rahab was a prostitute, Jeremiah and Timothy were too young, David had an affair and was a murderer, Elijah was suicidal, Isaiah preached naked, Jonah ran from God, Naomi was a widow, Job went bankrupt, John the Baptist ate bugs, Peter denied Christ, The Disciples fell asleep while praying, Martha worried about everything, The Samaritan woman was divorced…more than once, Zaccheus was too small, Paul was too religious, Timothy had an ulcer, AND Lazarus was dead!

So maybe he has a plan for me…a sleepy, aging, daydreamer who worries about everything.

Thank you Lord Jesus for putting up with me,

For You are the one who paid the fee,

So this is my prayer…this is my plea,

Help me become who you want me to be.

Amen.

Obit

After reading Fr. David’s blog/homily I was challenged to write my obituary…so I decided to take crack at it.  

Gene T. Jeansonne at the age of 67 passed away peacefully at home.  He will be remembered by his wife as a loving husband and devoted father to their three children and grandfather of four. 

Ok!  Ok! …Let’s be a little more truthful.

Gene T. Jeansonne, born 3 score and 7 years ago, passed away peacefully today. He will be remembered as a husband who meant well and a father who was trying, very trying. 

If we learn from our mistakes, then it can be said that he was a learned person.

He was a self-described wallflower and late bloomer who had a soft spot in his heart and in his head.

Fortunately, Our Lord gave him not even one talent to bury.

This “Not so faithful” servant returned to his maker today for his unjust reward.

Final arrangements are pending.

The thought of a just reward worries me...I am not really looking for justice on judgment day but would prefer an oversized portion of mercy.   Perhaps it’s not too late. Perhaps I am not done yet…perhaps I need to analyze what is important in my life and get ready for my eternal life.

Dear Lord Jesus

I need to make some adjustments

Prior to the final arrangements.

I know I have little time to tarry

Before they write my obituary.

Amen

Wounded

A work related accident left a deep gash across the heel of my right hand. Fortunately no major blood vessels, nerves or any important stuff was severed. 

I figured why waste time and money having it stitched up by some over paid person who by definition was “practicing” medicine.  After all, it will heal by itself in a few days if I just hold the skin together with some super glue and tape. 

Besides…it didn’t hurt that bad after I recovered from the fainting spell caused by the sight of my own blood.

As I counted the days I noticed the healing process was not going as planned probably due to the fact that I continued to do all the normal activities that a person has to do who makes a living with his hands.  All the straining and movement was keeping the laceration open.   

After 10 days of my wife rolling her eyes and giving me that “I can't believe I married such an idiot’’ look…I had to gulp hard, swallow my pride and walk into the walk-in clinic.  There I confessed my discretions to a medical professional that snickered with amusement as she repaired the damage.  

So, once again, I’m counting the days until I can remove the splint and stitches and return to my normal activities.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for walk-in clinics

For expert medical professionals

And for a wife who is always right

Amen

Good Morning

Friday 4:00AM, Jan 27, 2012

Good Morning, Lord. How have you been?  Sorry about the last few weeks.  I know we haven’t talked much lately, so I thought I‘d drop you a note and bring you up to date.  Quite frankly I’ve been “dragging ass” to use the vernacular.  That is...my beast of burden has balked at each and every step and the struggle has drained me both physically and mentally.  I think it all started with a touch of the flu mixed with hay fever…then it settled in my respiratory system and produced a gelatinous slime that was unstoppable as a lahar.  This condition caused the weakening of my mental state that subsequently allowed me to catch a spiritual virus…doubt/despair.  So once again I have turned to you for help.  You are the one who always saves my ass.  Thanks again.  I'll try to do a better job of staying in touch.  Hope all is well with you.  

Your not so faithful servant
Amen

Coughing, Sniffles, And Sneezing

In a semi-conscious state I dragged myself from my bed after what seemed like weeks of being incapacitated.  Sick is my least favorite thing.  It saps every ounce of my physical and mental energy.  I don’t have the drive nor the desire to even journal my ailing thoughts...record my ambling journey...or pen my nauseous progress.  After two days of lying on the couch, drifting in and out of a zombie like coma with the TV droning in the background…I could barely muster the strength to take a breath.

What is it about being sick that clouds my thinking and fills my head with all manner of dark thoughts and deep doubts.  What’s with all the wondering and wandering down the dark dank halls of my mind?   I go over and over a relentless litany of questions, misgivings and fears.

Will I ever feel better?  Am I going to die? Am I ready to meet my maker? Am I sick in the head?  I would like to know what’s the point of being sick?  What purpose does it serve?  Is it an exercise in defeatism?  What? What? What?  I just want to give up and throw in the towel…I just want to lie down and groan. 

Maybe sick falls into the suffering category.  Maybe suffering is just a way God allows me to have a little taste from the cup.  Maybe it’s the way I can gain some understanding…some understanding of who Jesus is.  Maybe it’s some way to acquire prospective...an opportunity to learn what Christ went through…what he had to put up with.

I have to stop cursing the darkness, focus on the light at the end of the tunnel and enjoy the chicken noodle soup.

Life is good, God is great, and people are crazy.  

Amen.

Ode To The Evergreen

As I drove the East Texas backcountry following the winding roads over the rolling hills, across the cedar bogs and through the endless pine forests…I marveled at the sights and smells. 

The deciduous trees

Gave up their leaves

And the reddish brown

fell to the ground. 

The orange-brown hues

Told well of the news 

That for no other reason

It was the season.

Logging trucks lumbered

Clattered and thundered

Under the loads of pine

That smelled so fine.

Through Woodville I drove

Through Pineville I wove

Through continuous coves

And countless groves.

But the pine tree stood

As well it should

All tall and slim

With every limb.

Unchanged by the season

In a deciduous treason

Like a stubborn cow

To an evergreen vow.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for the trip in your awesome woodlands.

Amen.