An Unreasonable Facsimile

I’m sitting here in the den (or snug, as I’ve taken to calling it) cozy under a Sherpa blanket and sipping a mug of Yerba mate tea. The dogs are curled up next to me—also on Sherpa blankets—and have gone back to sleep. We’re the only ones up.

I glance out the top of the window and see two lights in the sky. One, a twinkling star, the other, I’m almost certain, is a satellite because it’s moving ever-so-slowly across the sky. But maybe I’m wrong. Who knows?The point is that I have a moment of doubt when I look up at stars in the sky and wonder what is real and what isn’t.

This is the world today.

When I was in school studying computer science, there were modules about artificial intelligence. We even designed rudimentary applications using the technology. I thought it was cool. Now, the concept of AI fills me with dread.

I find myself paying more attention to what’s right in front of me, and less to the elusive “out there” that I can’t influence or,  increasingly, believe. I lean on my faith in timeless and eternal truth that doesn’t change in light of this global groaning—perhaps especially in light of this global groaning.

Things from yesterday don’t necessarily translate to today. I have to let go in order to move forward. I have to release my steely grip on if only and that’s the way we’ve always done things not because I want to, but because I have to, lest I shatter and be rendered useless. While I might wish to remain safe and comfortable in my Sherpa-safe nest, even here there are unreasonable facsimiles that can easily shake my faith and hinder my ability to focus on that which I was created for.

So, I hold close my trust in the Divine. I whisper prayers, find peace in words, and look for wisdom and wonder in creation. I remind myself of my belovedness—and yours—and let the remembering be a guide.

I am tired. You’re probably tired, in some degree, too. This is a hard slog we’re pushing through and it’s made even more difficult by paradoxes and deceptions and shifting sand and downright evil.

Find your true north. Set a course. And when you drift, be kind to yourself as you work to get back on track. Seek wisdom, be discerning, firm when necessary, and focus on the better thing in front of you. Remind yourself of your purpose. Believe in your belovedness.

And call a satellite a satellite.



I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.

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