As with all things, good, bad, ugly, disturbing, or even
common place, if one seeks the face of God, they will find it. At least that is
my experience.
It has been a while since I have posted. The past few
months, have been a struggle. On Nov 14th of last year I was given
thirty days notice that my contracts were being cancelled. It was probably the
only outcome that was plausible. As there was no cause cited to cancel the
contracts, the decision seemed to be very personal, and very vindictive. As
more than a few of my friends have said, I am too provocative for my own good.
I have pissed people off, and I know whom have taken exception to me.
In my less
than graceful moments, I think of these men, and one woman, as a waste of skin,
a blight against humanity, and similar thoughts. I do try to not be too vulgar
in these postings. While this decision has caused significant struggles, it has
not been without its blessings. There is less stress as what seemed inevitable
is now done. Wanna has her husband back. And I have a means of income.
To become
bitter about this has been such a temptation. In my search for the face of God,
her grace in my life, I have been resentful about God (she wants me to forgive
them), about the assholes who have done this, and those bastards that have
allowed it to happen. I have fantasies about confronting them, about reeking
vengeance in their lives, and getting even.
I have
thought about what I am called to do as being called to a higher standard. You
know that crap about taking the morally higher road. There is more than a small
part of me that wants to wallow in the muck and filth of resentment.
As I started up the crap of thinking about how awful these
people are, the impulse to forgive came again. For all my brilliance, I can be
a stupid man. Then, as she so often does, God spoke with that random thought
which seems to come out of nowhere. I am keeping myself involved in a struggle,
in a relationship, with these assholes. Then, the pointed question. Why the fuck
would I want to invite them into my life like that?
Forgiveness, that impulse I have resisted, is the only way
out. My reasons for not doing so, my reasons for continuing to engage in the
hatred of these people, are bullshit. Yes, something calls to be done about
this abuse of power. But, that is not my calling. At least not now. Perhaps it
never will be.
My task, these days, as unpleasant at it may seem, is to
deal with the consequences of this development. My desire to not forgive, to be
bitter, only serves to make it that much more daunting. My task is to grieve
the loss. That can only be if I stop the foolishness of keeping the
relationship with these assholes going in my head.
As I write this now, I have sense that it is not a morally
higher ground that I am called to walk. It is a gentler path for me.
