librorum prohibitorum

Go read something else.

Years ago, at least years ago in my bit of human Time, on Sundays when we were visiting Linda's mother in Birmingham, Alabama, we went to her church, Advent. Over those years we also went to St Mary's on the Highlands and St Luke's near her home in Mountain Brook, but settled into Advent with Paul Zahl. I liked his preaching, used to buy his sermons on cassette tapes to hear again; and I remember a Sunday when his theme was "What is your Passion?". It struck me close to the center of me at a Time when my passions, my enthusiasms in life, seemed quite clear to me.

Time has passed, much Time, with its years and my aging. I don't know about Time with its years and eons. I do know about human aging, that there dawns, slowly or suddenly, a realization that one's passions have dimmed. Or died. And one needs to either work up something new or lie down for a long nap. There's an idea, naps are my favorite anyway.

In his 20 year nap, Rip Van Winkle slept through the American Revolution, what might I miss? I hesitate to imagine, considering present and upcoming America, which was not Great before and sure as hell is not heading into greatness now. Forget about greatness and try for decency. 

There were times in life when I took up a passion for its mental, physical and emotional joy, pleasure - - even escape at times. Some I fell naturally or unconsciously into. Cars. Astronomy. A few people. The bursting change of Navy life, destroyer with a great captain and wardroom full of friends. Seminary &c. Teaching. Bible study groups. What? 

7H is still coming back together after the storm. Sunday afternoon complete for a moment, but then we had to move all porch furniture back into the living room. One car's the limit in the garage six levels down, mine's a quarter to third mile walk down and out to the marina in rain and wind. (Yes, at least we have 73° and not forty-something). Maybe it's winter doldrums? Gray. Rainy. Fog. IDK. Tired of. Twenty-two months, and tired.

In my other lifetime I'd be out car shopping, wouldn't I. No longer an appeal, haven't even opened the April issue of Consumer Reports. Clouds and scaffolding impair nightly stargazing. I can write these gardenia blogposts, but it's stream of consciousness, where's the heart? There are oysters in the refrigerator, shrimp and prime beef, so what's wanting? Me, something about me.

The word enthusiasm takes to Greek with en meaning in or maybe filled with, and th meaning god. So, filled with God, inspired by and with God. Come, Lord.

T