What comfort these words are to me, what comfort amid the relentless struggle to rise above the miasmic conundrum of a thousand thwarted instincts, a million repressed desires that daily clamor for fulfillment.

What might have I? What power? I am nothing more than a struggling soul, a writhing worm, a sentient being with an insatiable drive to survive…but for what? So that another day may come upon me, so that another day can open its jaws and work its purpose to crush me?

Were death to visit me, I would not flinch; were I to find his black cloak drawing over my face, I would not cower. Should the very blade of his sickle be laid with steady purpose across my throat, still I would not protest; for I have grown weary of the beating of my heart.

Most surely we will meet resistance; most surely we will lose friends and harm relationships and cause offense. Most certainly our message will not be welcome by all; but there will be those who will, through our faithfulness, meet the Master, and who will be healed by Him, and whose violent intentions will be thwarted to the safety and joy of many. Let us be inspired now more than ever to enter the battle and put ourselves between these tormented souls and the consequent horror; let us not love our lives and reputations more than the lives and souls of these. May we taste and feel and see and know the urgency of the situation, the desperateness of the need, and may we go forth without flinching to introduce those to Him who was born King of the Jews – to Jesus who is called the Christ.

It seems to me that this is indeed a vulnerable-unto-dangerous mentality.

I know what I wanted for this character, but I have to come to terms not with what I want, but with who he is.

Originally, my 17-year-old mind became enamored of this character, and tried for some time (by which I mean a month or two – time passed differently then) to plant this monk into whatever historical period I desired. I had no interest in the Middle Ages; I held ignorant and stereotypical beliefs regarding this time period, and wanted nothing to do with it. Yet I began to experience a certain literary panic as the more I researched the more this monk moved back in time, ever closer to the dreaded pre-Renaissance period, until I submitted at last and realized I could not even plant him in the “high” Middle Ages, the more palatable phase (in my teen-aged estimation) of the time period. No, he was and is a 12th century monk, and I had to embrace and accept this and immerse myself in medieval studies (worrying all around me with what was erroneously viewed as my “obsession”). How did I, who once was so attuned to the voice of my characters, end up ignoring his signals and gestures and demeanor? He is not a moral hero in the sense I wanted him to be – tempted, yet victorious. Another character must fit that role. His role is to fall, and fall secretly, and tell no one of his sin and thus become an allegorical symbol for guilt. That was my original intent, and, despite all the anachronistic rigmarole I went through in the beginning, that original allegorical impression was and is correct and must be pursued. I must be true to who this character is.

This indicates two things.

1. Todd looks at his bowel movements.
2. Todd is a bit of a loony.

Regarding number 1, Todd looking at his bowel movements, I find this rather stunning. I never look at my bowel movements. I could pass a live ocelot and remain blissfully ignorant, paging through back issues of ReadyMade. But Todd apparently looks at his bowel movements, inspects them in fact. And then he goes that extra step to inform the lady whose lawn he cut that he is making exciting new discoveries in said bowel movements.

The only other creature in my household who inspects its own bowel movements – and the bowel movements of others – is my dog. Her motivation is the possibility of a tasty tidbit that might have escaped the digestive process, and might like to have another go. For a dog, this is understandable, because dogs are gross.

I have since lost track of good ol’ Todd. Perhaps he has decided to move on, approaching life as a Cleansed Person.

Or maybe he is a bit of a loony.

A loving God, it has been argued, would not allow evil to continue unabated as it seems to do in this world; but this argument is slightly different. The argument I am addressing is one that precedes creation – that is, knowing that evil and suffering were to come about as a result of earth’s creation, a loving God would not have gone ahead with it. He would have seen the inevitable and chosen not to call such horror into being.

Or perhaps He is loving, just not omnipotent. Perhaps He had in His mind a beautiful creation, and was confounded by the evil that corrupted it.

How can God be both? How can a loving God foresee suffering, yet go forward with creation anyway? Thus, the conclusion seems to be that there is no God – at least, not any real God, because a real God, to be classified as such, has to be omnipotent.

And here I enter the fray.

First, the logical problem with the above conclusion: if the problem with God is that He does not exist, and He does not exist because of what one perceives to be a flaw in His character, then how can He not exist? In other words, how can one claim the nonexistence of something based on its characteristics? It can’t have characteristics if it doesn’t exist. God would have to be the Creator for such an issue even to be taken up in the first place. How can anyone have a problem with how God created the world if He didn’t do so?

Perhaps, then, the argument is more along the lines of this: for God to be the Creator, He would have to be either loving or omnipotent, but not both. Once again, the problem here is that God must be something for Him not to be.

Another problem stems from a misunderstanding of omnipotence. That is a term having more to do with authority than infinite knowledge. Perhaps “omniscience” is what we are really discussing here. At any rate, neither omniscience nor omnipotence are synonymous with caprice. We get caught up in “God could haves” since we perceive Him as omnipotent. “God could have made the world without evil…God could have made human nature without all the hurt and the horror…He could have made people so that they turned into rainbows at the end of their lives…” We know what we would do if we were omnipotent and omniscient, and we presume those same motivations upon God. Since God did not use His omnipotence and omniscience as we see fit, we then assume He mustn’t exist, or if He does, He is a cosmic sadist.

An omnipotent and omniscient God can and does impose limits upon Himself, because He will not – I shall say can not – act outside of His nature. “Can not”? God, unable to do something? Then He is not omnipotent nor omniscient, one may argue. Again, omnipotence and omniscience are not synonymous with caprice and randomness. His character is perfect, and He can not deviate from it, for to do so would make Him imperfect and therefore not omnipotent or omniscient. It is His very adherence to Himself that makes Him omniscient.

…what’s that?

No, I don’t think so – well, maybe you’re right. I do favor my herbal blog, don’t I? That’s why most blogs have a theme and a purpose, and you don’t.

The column itself is about an approach to the high cost of health care that includes the input of various experts, which is supposed to curtail health care’s cost while delivering high-quality care. The authors, Jim Yong Kim (president of Dartmouth College) and James N. Weinstein (president of the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Clinic) noted the above quote as part of the basis for their theory.

“We also share the view that throughout history, our most difficult problems have found scientific solutions.”

Really? This comment is simultaneously sweeping and ridiculously narrow. Was there a scientific solution to the Revolutionary War? What about the Civil War? What about any war? Slavery, segregation, women’s suffrage were all tackled and resolved by means that were anything but scientific. I might be able to understand (while still disagreeing) how the authors could conclude that our most difficult medical problems have found scientific solutions. But all of our problems? I really hope I have misunderstood these two men who are supposed to be smarter than I.

Poem of the Obsessive-Compulsive Lover:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I like them in rows
Lined up with my shoes.

Poem of the Elderly Lover:
Violets are blue,
Roses are red -
Where are my glasses?
On top of my head.

Poem of the Dyslexic Lover:
Violets are red,
Roses are blue,
I’m crying for you,
Hoo-boo, hoo-boo.

Poem of the Deceased Lover:
Violets are blue,
Roses are red -
Their roots look lovely
Right over my head.

I wish to take this on, but it must be in multiple short posts, one at a time. This is, as noted, an enormous issue and I confess it has required more than a little struggle on my part to come to terms with it. And I still have not come to terms with it entirely, and plan to hash out my ideas here on my unsuspecting blog.

It is a good thing that I am so remiss in my posting as to have bypassed a devoted readership…