The Charlie Bravo Story

Duff on Church

Proceed with caution: Run-On Sentence Zone ahead…

Zero Dark Thirty; the dogs are sprawled out on the bed in such a fashion that it is uncanny how much it resembles a jump zone where the person responsible for packing the parachutes was having an off day. Charlie has crammed herself over into my alloted 8.75″ of Posturpedic real estate as I go doomscrolling through stories of errant Chinese ballons; balloons? Really? Aren’t these the cats who had invented gunpowder millions of years before the rest of the world, and they expect me to believe that this is the best that they can come up with? What’s next, peashooters and slingshots?

Well, I ain’t buying it.

As a result of this constant ingestion of negativity and speculation as to what it all might mean, and what might just happen, and what are we going to do about it, it’s no surprise that I’m still awake with negative thoughts racing around inside my head in turbo-charged run-on sentences.

Then, both unexpectedly and uninvited, a frowzy head pokes itself into my field of vision; it’s the MacDuff, wide awake from a dead sleep and wanting some impromptu dluvins(Duff+Lovin’s=Dluvins).

And it kind of put my angst back into perspective; Duff gaveth not a whit about what might be currently going on outside the walls of the Casa, as he had his Dad. If he had that much faith on me to believe that I had everything handled and that things would “work out”, why shouldn’t at least attempt to match that faith?

I have absolutely no tendencies towards theological matters, as doctrines and belief systems seem to concentrate on not what we have in common, but rather than on what divides us. This reminds me of trigonometry in high school; a metric ton of “information” to retain just to pass the class, but no practical use for it in the years since. And yeah, I get it: “it’s all about the discipline! It’s all about the thought process!” It seems that in both cases that it’s as much about indoctrination through repetition as anything, but hey, what do I know? I just pilot the motorcycle, the dogs do all the serious thinking around here.

Wow; what caused this post to go so far off of the beaten path? I guess that MacDuff’s impromptu awakening just hang out with Dad for a bit only to peacefully go back to sleep kind of kicked me in the gizzards. But not in spite of the negativity I had been ingesting, but because of it; without clouds, there are no sunbeams.

But with all the doubts, there is one thing I do believe; just as dogs are here for us that we may also be companions for them, is that we are here to be a friend to God, whatever you envision Him to be. And if I am to be friend to Him, I must also be a friend to His creations, the primary of which is our fellow man.

And of course, dogs.

If such a simple act as MacDuff taking the time to wake from his slumbers to say “Hey, Dad!” made me feel the way it did, I would think that a Creator might feel the same way with some acknowledgement from me.

Even if that’s all there is to it, I can get my mind around that, and let those with more intelligence than myself hammer out the rest. If your looking for us, we’ll be out having church on the motorcycle; we’ll honk and wave as we roll by.

We be of one blood, ye and I.

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