Watch Sarey Whinge.


Today is the 25th Wedding Anniversary of one of my co-workers. Yay for Holly & Patrick!

Yay, indeed. And after going upstairs to wish her a happy 25th and hear about her fun evening plans of a fabulous meal and a show, I came back downstairs, ready to start in on Sunday’s sermon (don’t get your hopes up, oh ye who attend my church – I’m preaching at the early service). But upon approaching my office with the door wide open, I saw the magic 8 ball…

My somewhat hazy thought was, “So, this is going to happen for me, right?” This, even as I thought, “You know, whether or not this happens – this, being happily married to someone I adore – the Magic 8 Ball is unlikely to have the insiders scoop on it.”

I received the following response: “My sources say No.”

“Second opinion,” I muttered, picking up the bright pink Jesus which also functions as a magic 8 ball. I shook him hard and flipped him over, only to be told, “Beware of the lightening.”

“Come on, Buddha!” I muttered. I picked up the white plastic Laughing Buddha, rubbed his tummy and flipped him over. “Life is suffering,” the Buddha informed me.

I snorted. “Unhelpful!” I informed them all.

But you know, just now I was reading in a scholarly commentary about Aragorn and whats-her-face, sheildmaiden of the house of Eorl. Eowyn, that’s it. Anyway, the commentary was discussing love and duty, infatuation and devotion, and pointed out that love, if anything in our world, was inadvertent over intentional. We fall into love, after all, the commentator pointed out.

So it goes. And my track record for falling in love hasn’t, so far, been anything like convenient, if by convenient I could be allowed to mean ‘a remotely good idea, in any sense of the word’.

So it goes.

(I mean, come on: he only needs to be brilliant, creative, remotely attractive, and at least somewhat aware of the world around him. Honestly, am I asking too much?)

So it goes.

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