Thursday, March 9, 2023

Sorrowful mysteries.

Wednesday evening I hit a wall. I guess I've been coasting on inertia for a while, and a large job I had expected to arrive got delayed -- and suddenly I had nothing I had to do, and I fell into a pit of misery. It came on fast, like a bad case of the flu. At three I'm okay, by four everything seems completely, even uniquely pointless. And then other thoughts and memories rush in to fill the emptiness and reinforce the endless sorrow.

I guess I'm a little burned out.

I did try to bounce out of it, spending time with youthful dog Izzy and going over the headlines of the day (Babylon Bee headlines, that is) with some old friends on a group text. But texting with my old friends reminded me that this year it will be a decade since one of our best guys, the one who helped make us all friends and kept us so through the years, died suddenly and left a wife and two young kids. 

And playing with Izzy reminded me that it's almost six months since we had to put Fazzy down. 

At the vet. Last photo, ever.

And I just couldn't stand anything anymore.

Sorrow is the curse and the consolation of Christianity. We can't pretend, like so many foolish Communists and transhumanists do, that some combination of perfect intelligence and technology will wipe every tear and bring humanity to a state of perfect joy. We know man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward. On the other hand, it's the only religion that teaches that God Himself knows exactly what that is like, having assumed humanity and suffered for it. Our sorrow can never be thought of as meaningless; it has touched the heart of God. 

Still, I prayed last night, saying that if I never felt sadder than I did just then, I thought I could take it -- but that I didn't expect that to be the case.


But I hoped it would all be all right, some day.

32 comments:

  1. and always look on the bright side of life [ducks thrown dog toy]

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  2. We're with you, Fred. So is God.

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  3. We miss you. What you do is not pointless.

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  4. Worried about you, Fred. Feel better soon.

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  5. Wagner sez "Hey!"

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  6. If you've given up the 'net for Lent again... ;>

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  7. "knows exactly what that is like..."

    Evocative writing. For me - that says Psalm 22, which was quoted from the cross.

    We hope your are doing OK, Mr. Key.

    Puffin

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  8. My poor reading comprehension missed your loss.
    I lost my shelter dog, Zewie in January 1996. The hit was so hard I resisted getting another dog when my wife wanted one in 2012.

    "You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us."
    -- Robert Louis Stevenson

    I'm also hoping for a few well remembered cats, including Yoda, my wife's cat when we married that very shortly became mine. And Kevin, the neighborhood cat that owned several blocks of real estate. He was a tiny little Tuxedo.

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  9. Losing a canine companion is a terrible gut punch. Hang in there and be well.

    Deut. 31:8-9

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  10. Hey Fredrick.
    We miss you. You are a staunch Bleatnik, and one of my artistic inspirations.
    We want you to be with us. It's what friends are for.

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  11. Hey Fred. It's Marica, just hoping you are okay.

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  12. Hey Fred,

    C'mon buddy- you're scaring the kids. Lots of folks are wondering about you!

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  13. Wagner sez...
    Fred Key is my friend, even though I've never met him (that I know of). I have all his books. Whatever happened to that guy?

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  14. Yukon King here. Hang in. Things will get better. Please remember that there's nothing wrong with reaching out to your pastor, counselor, or physician if you feel the need. Here's hoping for the best.

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  15. Life gets hard, sometimes. Hang in there, it will get better.
    - Lewes

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  16. Heavenly Father, please remember your servant Fred for good and pour out Your healing, peace, and comfort upon his mind, body, and spirit.

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  17. Thinking of you, Fred. We all are.

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  18. What Mongo and everyone else sez. It took me nearly my entire life to figure out the knack of happy, and now that I've got it I'm not afraid of anything or anyone for any reason, nor am I afraid of returning to that Slough of Despond that always used to drag me down. Writers are especially susceptible. For now, hug your dog. kiss your wife. Or do the opposite.

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  19. Wagner sez...
    Point of clarity: when I said "I have all his books," I don't mean that I made off with his personal library. I mean I have copies of all the books he has written (or claims to have written) and published.

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  20. Easter is this Sunday. Let's hope we find out wtf is going on.

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  21. Hey Fred, FWIW, you have a boatload of invisible friends in the cyber world who care for you and would help out if you need it. I'm one of them.

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  22. OK Fred, Lent is over. How about it?

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  23. Fred, this morning I went out to get the paper, and there was a kid across the street waiting for the school bus, and he was eating a giant chocolate Easter bunny.

    I was feeling surly so I yelled at him "Hey kid, eating that much chocolate is bad for you!"

    And the little bugger yelled back "Oh yeah, well my grandpa lived to be 103."

    So I said, "Oh really? So did he eat a lot of chocolate?"

    And the kid replied "No, but he minded his own damn business!"

    (ht/ Todd Glass).

    Be of good cheer, and stop by and say "Hi" at the Bleat if you are of a mind.

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  24. The Bleat is running low on Vitamin related comments. Fred Bailey won't you please come home.

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  25. Also, we need more FredCoin! The Crypto with Vimm & Vigor!!

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  26. From the Bleatnik known as Meribah:
    I have missed you, Fred. The Bleat isn't the same without you, in whatever form you choose to assume there! Having spent a few years in that place where everything seems like too much effort, I am sorry that you 're there at the moment. You already know God loves you. And your family (I include the dog). And your friends. And a whole bunch of people you wouldn't recognize if you passed us on the street, as well. Sending many virtual hands on your shoulder/hugs your way.

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