In the Fik of it

I found myself standing barefoot on the terrazzo floor, cold and shivering from the frozen March slush that I’d just stomped through out in the parking lot.   A young woman came over to me and asked if I needed help and as I thought about my reply, the characteristic “no, not really – I’m just thinking” , she reached up and caringly put her hand on my back.   I’m not sure if it was a reassuring gesture from a compassionate soul or a skilled maneuver from a healthcare professional, using the allure of a woman’s touch to better assesses my medical condition.   As she touched my spine, a raw nerve came to life and I squirmed to get away.   The pain, a grotesque combination of fright, dull tingle and paranoia must have been the exact tell that she was looking for because the next thing I knew I was on the ground.   Her touch caused me to twist and fall away, helpless and exposed.   She lay beside me and asked me more questions and having been finally discovered, I began

The fire’s been burning for the better part of five days now and I find it hard to believe that anything of value could possibly remain.   Those who were smart either moved far away or buried their treasure deep in the soul.   I foolishly thought I could keep everything intact by occasionally hosing it down with a garden hose.   I now seem to have lost everything.   How foolish of me, to think a simple hose would be sufficient against hell’s fury.   Things that once seemed beautiful are now distorted and cracked.    Music has melted, the sun – obscured from the smoke.   The sweet smell of summer is now an acrid stench and the odor seems to color even the food we eat. Were it physical things lost, I’d not be in such arrears; the loss however is emotional.   I’ve lost a bit of my wife; I lost my daughter, my sons have moved further away – not for the reason of flame but for my reaction to losing control of it.   I pushed them out. Even now, I can hear the crackle from

Hosea was an Old Testament prophet whose entire life was devoted to simply becoming a metaphor for future generations.   His life was a difficult and confusing series of ups and downs in which his only constant was a seemingly unwavering allegiance to Yahweh , the God of his fathers. Hosea was instructed by that very God to marry a specific woman with some clearly defined (by God, no less) sexual issues.   As an upstanding man-of-God, this must have seemed an obtuse request.   Imagine you’re a nice, bachelor who’s spent his entire adolescent life waiting for that special woman - and you finally get the chance to marry.   Of all the girls you could choose from, you end up with none-other than a hot-ticket, prostitute.   Your mother, faints, your father shakes his head, your sister laughs.   Your brother is torn between being ashamed and being slightly envious.   The neighbors chalk it up to inexperience and indiscretion and wait for the tragedy to unfold.   You, on the other hand