A few days ago a Peruvian airplane had to make an emergency landing in Lima because a passenger was trying to force his way into the pilot's cabin. Turns out all he was going to do was read his manifesto over the sound system. I think I could write a manifesto myself, and I can empathize with his crazed obsession to have it heard and understood. I want to tell someone how totally ridiculous and horrible this is, but at the same time, I know complaining won't solve the problem. Deep down, I think I'm entitled to having things done the way I want (I'm tempted to say “in a reasonable way”), but the truth is that entitlement is a farce. If anything, all I'm really entitled to today is a little oxygen in my lungs.
When things are going this way at home (well I wouldn't quite say they were ever going exactly “this way,” but you know...) I used to treat myself to something special-- a long bath, a movie, baking a rich dessert. Where can I find a little space of enjoyment this afternoon? Beth Moore. My puppies, I suppose. Maybe we ought to take them down to the beach this afternoon.
Pray for us. This week won't be easy.