Bob-STL

“Oy gevalt!”

“Der yeger hot epes!”

The hunter might be onto something with The Fiddler on the Roof!

Maybe those ticks in the woods help him think!

Been thinking about this post for several days now.  Caught my attention with it being Thanksgiving.

Some know that I was raised with a Christian upbringing, actually spent 2 in a seminary in high school.  By the end of high school, a lot had happened, and I was “thinking for myself.”  Church and religion took a back seat (or the trunk or the side of the road).  Essentially, I came pretty much off the rails, and you could say I was a trainwreck.  But yeah “I was thinking for myself.”

I got married to a girl who went to church, which was a big part of her life.  Why did she marry me? Don’t know.

She always was there for me.

After my Mom died in 1999, I started to take my Dad to church because I knew that was important to him, and he couldn’t drive.  I hadn’t gone regularly for 30+ years.  After several years, I realized there was an occasional “pearl” in attending.  When my Dad passed in 2009, I continued to go sporadically, then regularly.

What I found for myself was that, somehow, I needed what was said inorder to survive and make sense of some things in the world and my life.

I had a heart attack in 2020, the doctor fixed me up.  I then had A-Fib and they wanted to do an ablation (I was deathly afraid of this).  They had me go to a Muslim doctor for this.  Before I went into the operating lab, I told him I was really afraid.  He said not to worry and sent in the anesthesiologist to talk to me.  Some know that I am a car guy.  So was the anesthesiologist, and we had a few good laughs.  He assured me he’d take care of me!  After he left, the last thing I saw was the Cross on the wall in St. Johns Mercy.  I said to myself “God, I trust and give to you whatever happens.”

They’re still working on my ticker.  A recent echocardiogram said I had severe stenosis of the aortic valve. (no big surprise).  The cardiologist wanted another stress test.  Not a problem, but for Bob, that means going “balls to the wall” through self induced pain and discomfort.  The absolute last thing I wanted.  Well lo-and-behold there was  cross on the wall in front of my treadmill.  I said “hold on” to the technician, made the sign of the cross, said a prayer, and then said “God we’re coming to you” (I give it all to you).  The tech was absolutely fine with that.

Why am I saying all this?

When you’re at the end of your rope, It’s nice to have a knot at the end of that rope.  At some point, most people get to the end of their rope.  I’ve learned to reframe some things in God’s frame.

How does this relate to Mercy Me and “Younger Me”?  Oh Lord!… I wish I could go back and correct or undo some of the things I’ve done.  I wish I could reframe a lot of things from the past in a Christ centered frame.  So, I’ve got a little time from here on out to reframe the things that I do.

John,

Years ago, I had a good friend (also was a fishing buddy) who was sitting down.  He stood up and keeled over from a brain aneurysm, and he died immediately.

There was a big hole in my life.  I cried at the funeral.

A shrink once told me “Don’t wallow.  Move forward.”

Don’t take this the wrong way, but a song that recently reminded me to move forward is “Running Home” by Cochran and Co.  It has some religious under pinnings that may be appropriate.

Bob

I don’t have a philosophical answer for this.  However, I do know that in this group if someone asks for something or help, others will jump to lend a hand.

Also, and more in line with the previous blog question, I can relate the following.  The first couple trips I had to Montauk, as I was walking to the stream, something struck me.  The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the scenery was great, and there were new friends who seemed genuine.  What did I do to deserve this?