Let the blood and water flow.

My mother thinks I won't cry. But she's wrong. Grief and pain and sorrow and remorse-- though Christians trust even in the providence and the grace of God in our trials and our sinful choices, the choices are ours nonetheless and they do not leave us better off, as Pastor Paul says.

"Go take some allergy medicine. Your eyes are red and puffy; that's an allergic reaction."

Like the flat tire I received on Friday afternoon, my heart's journey has lagged and I have become lax and the cancers of sin have rebounded and returned--I have become a dog in its vomit. Even the good Lord's law has not restrained me, and the choke collar digs into my skin. How long, O Lord, will You suffer Your servant to wander? Restore me to the joy of Your salvation, Father, and make me keep Your statutes.

I will not neglect the family You have given me, Father, and I will not relapse into the pattern of the bad history of the weak fathers of this house. Make me to follow in the footsteps of my grandfather, who seeks You with his whole heart, and let me worship You with all I do, say, and think. Let me be proactive in my prayers, and let me even be prying in my efforts to love the church. Help me to love my neighbor, Father, as You have placed thousands of them at UC Irvine.

Unsear my conscience, for only Your Spirit can sanctify my withered heart. I must be made whole and washed clean to wash my family's feet, and I must wash my family's feet to present them as servants to the world.

"Remember anniversaries and dates, for your love will resent you if you don't."

Yet I profane Your Sabbaths, Lord, and I do not rest in the remembrance of Your act of undying love as I should!! What is wrong with me? Can I not see Your mercy on display? Do I not hear Your goodness and justice proclaimed weekly? Have I not tasted and seen how beautiful You are? Harbor a proper fear in my heart for Your holy throne, even if that means breaking me in my own Garden of Gethsemane. Let the blood and water flow.