Lately, I’ve struggled with my Zen. In fact, it’s been a sneaky little booger, trying its hardest to elude me. Just when I get a  fingertip on it, it lets out a noxious cabbage fart, temporarily immobilizing me as it runs and hides in a darkened house of mirrors.


I have to consciously remind myself that we are all God’s children, and therefore, we all have some good in us (Thank you, Chuck). It’s almost become one of those as annoying self-help mantras that people repeat to themselves as they try to lose weight, quit smoking, or convince themselves that tofu doesn’t really make them want to vomit. But, I guess I should stop dismissing their methods as nonsense because it seems to be working for me.


Tonight, as I sit here typing this, the heavens are opened, and the rains are washing away all of the dust and pollen, cleaning the earth, and bringing out the bright green leaves of spring’s rebirth that even a colorblind guy like me can’t overlook. The soft rolls of thunder are weaving their way through the trees, their rumbles crescendoing before falling off gently, leaving only the sound of the rain falling steadily. The lightning flashes, filling the sky with pulses like a fluorescent light struggling to come to life.


The storms are raging all around my house tonight. I’ve heard from friends around the area that have been dealing with dangerous winds, and loss of power. They’ve worried and been scared. But, here I am with the storms passing around me. I’ve not been afraid or worried for myself. Yet, there are still storms on the radar that are headed this way, and I don’t know what the night holds in store. But, I’ve got my Zen right now.


This morning Father Chuck talked about prayer and how we so often use it to ask for something for us or for someone else or we give thanks for something, but that sometimes he just sits quietly listening to God speaking to him. Tonight, as I sit and listen, God is giving me Zen, falling from the heavens, washing away my strife.

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