jump to navigation

A deeper death of a shallow part of myself December 9, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Personal Journey.
add a comment

Not sure exactly where the title of this post is coming from, but I finished this amazing book which I will most likely blog on at frostwolfpines.  S. H. Buhner’s The Secret Teachings of Plants really rocked my world.  For me personally, this is a life-changing read.  Through this study of plants, I find this amazing gift that describes to me how I approach the writing of plays and why it’s been so difficult for me for the past 13 or so years while working in the vEmpire.

To be a playwright like the way I am a playwright I have to have a big wide open heart.  But it’s more than that.  The heart for a playwright is the seat of intelligence.  Really that is the way it is for all humans as the book makes explicitly clear.  The wisdom of the heart’s awarenesses and perceptions are our birthright.  But we are rewarded for the use (and abuse) of our intellects, our verbal/analytical skills.  That aspect of our human beings gives great support, but to supplant the heart with its “wisdom” is to err gravely and greatly.

I found myself having my breath caught up again and again as I read this, but today I read something that started a crying streak, and that was that as we show up to the work of meeting plants in the Mundus Imaginalis, as we show up to meet others with their diseases and conditions and to experience their diseased parts, we are ourselves changed and brought face to face with our shadows.

Now, I’m a really Plutonian sort of Pisces at root.  I understand that tsunami inside me that can rise up and sweep away all that’s in its path, and sometimes it comes up more to wash my own self-image into the abyss.  But Buhner said that one of the deaths we experience is that of our reductionist selves as we show up and allow Nature to shape our morality and our ability to be fresh as a child in our interactions with the more-than-human world.  And as I continue to go through the convalescence period of having left a corporate job and buried the corporate identity, as I acknowledge long-shunted away desires and longings after certain sorts of experiences with Nature and the use of my hands with natural products, I come to understand that I am slowly but methodically disassembling that part of me that has so relished and overutilized single-pointed focus.

This work inclines toward multi-pointed foci along many axes of dimensionality.  I listen now to pine trees, and pay attention to the vision of myself five years from now and make little discoveries.  Like that this fellow at 51 I see sitting by a river is sitting under poplar trees.  And that there is goldenrod nearby.  I hear the chirping of cardinals as well.  Hm.  It’s a sunny day in a delicious fall I can tell.  Fall, 2015 I guess. 

Yesterday, I felt a wave of despair crash over me.  I know that part of it has to do with the Holidays (and people should check out my “Happy Christmas Poem” on this blog for a good laugh and healthy ID with the sentiments of this longass work).  But I found myself really longing for death, and that I just wanted to end the suffering.  I now understand that the suffering I’m undergoing is that of bidding adieu to this aspect of myself, the vEmpire part of Richard. 

And to add to the feelings today I skimmed Carolyn Baker’s response to Rob Hopkins’ reaction to the critique of the Transition movement offered by one of the US’s leading lights of transition.  Wow, the world certainly swirls in surprise and awareness these days.  For me it’s another piquant and intriguing confirmation of the path I seek to discover for myself and for my peeps along the path of heart and soul through these times o’ tumult. 

I pray the way forward becomes clear, and that I have the strength, resiliency and buoyant cheer to be the attraction I seek.  Krom Kruach make it so! (krach mech ti bruach.)

Denver Discordance November 27, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Capital Region Notions, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Mystical, Personal Journey.
add a comment

Well, whew!  Back from Denver, and I have a lot of feelings about it.  The most salient aspect however is that I have truly and thoroughly “enalienized” myself to the place.

“Enalienized” here means that my resonance has altered such that Denver no longer feels “home” to me.  Appropriately enough it’s the trees that sort of tipped me off to this.  In my journey to Denver, there was the obligatory trip to the old homestead in what is now Centennial, but what was once unincorporated Littleton when I was upgrowing dabei.

The fun thing was that on the day I went, I met my new friends Jade and Shen Tat at the delicious Mercury Cafe.  On the waay there, I realized that I had dreamt about the route thereto.  I took Broadway north from Evans, and it turns into Lincoln near Exposition, and from Lincoln I turned onto 18th which twisty-turnied all around.  (The dream really started with the turn off Lincoln.)  En route to the Merc, I had a call to drive south after my brunch with them, which was delic ious in terms of both company and food and lasted almost 3 hours!

Driving south, I went first to Spiritwise, and bought a few objects including a functional sculpture of a jawbone with a bat on it for dispelling that which no longer serves me, a bat ring and a wolf sculpture.

I drove further South still, for I felt I needed to go a certain route to the old homestead.  I didn’t realize it at the time but I was on a rigte of initiation of some sort, for I made a “wrong” turn onto Eudora Street off Dry Creek and found myself at my next destination, the place I meant to go all along.

Medema Park.

This little parklet was the closest one to my Littleon abode from 1976 to 1982.  And there was a tree here that was calling to me.  Emburon, by name.  A pine tree of course, who was to give me a bit of instruction.  I made a 2nd pilgrimage later to Emburon, bearing an offering of chocolate.  (E would have preferred Ghirardelli, but had to setle for Lindt, alas.)  I’m now charged with discovering “tree speed.”  Which is simultaneously slow and fast, needless to say.  Slow in the “reality” of meatspace, but circulation wise, lightning quick.

Anyway, after my first encounter with Emburon, I realized I had contracted food poisoning somewhere.  Funny, but now that I’m writing this, I wonder if there wasn’t another awareness that had inserted itself into me through my interaction with the tree that put me in touch with the discordance underlying.  Anyway, I spent that night doubled over in stomach pain.  And my days thereafter were a bit dissonant.

Upon arrival dissonance was thematic however.  I took the wrong turn off of Tower Road and ended up on 104th Ave., nearer the older Northglenn homestead (near 120th and N. Washington, actually).  I took another twisty-turny journey (ah, a theme!), that took me to the general area where my Daddles used to work when I upgrew, and from where he was cast out in the first wave of ditching longtime employees nearing full pension.  Ah, Ronald Reagan farts farts farts!

From that Sunday-Monday onwards, my trip took on a much more bittersweet hue.  It always was going to be thus, seeing as the last time I was in Denver, I was part of a couple, and now I am the single guy again.  I’m now also a published author, and I sold 4 of my Doom Sonnets for After the vEmpire. So again, the bittersweet and the twisty-turny.  A rather blackthorn experience this trip, I guess.  And a loneliness started to insinuate itself into the Work of this God.  And the trees were there to gently support this awareness.

On Thanksgiving Day, I was with my sister and her family, and there was a moment in the afternoon, when I was by myself in the kitchen washing some pot or other, and that loneliness made his embarke’d experience known.  I have to say it was a total surprise, and a familiar feeling I’ve not experienced in a LONG time.  And that was when the awareness started to settle in as well, that Denver was not home.

And another awareness.  That I am going to have to have a lot of courage going forward with the new aspect of my Work as Professional Playwright-Producer.  I have a title for my new company–“Cultural Janitorial Detail.”  To accord with the Morell aspect of my being.  To put all of it together, actually.  Also fun–CJD also stands for Creuzfeld-Jakob Disease.  CJD is the medical acronym that denotes “Mad Cow Disease.”  CJD to transform the cultural CJD that afflicts us all.

Even though my sensibility is decidedly “Denver,” and those who live there know exactly of what I speak, it doesn’t agree with me.  As I sit here writing this blog entry, and feeling it’s woefully incomplete, I feel a vague sense of nausea as if the food poisoning of 6 days ago is always going to be associated with Denver going forward.  Lovely.  I’m back in the Hudson-Mohawk region, and I have some plans for the day now.  Today is the first day I’ve been able to incorporate Emburon’s task in my practice, which has pointed to certain activities.  (This was not among them, alas.  But still, it was something I felt compelled to do.)

I look forward to how my own Big Eden will manifest in this delicious and “deicious” (thank you o goddess of typos!) place.  Unfold ye sacred heaven on earth, rightcheer in Adirondack land.

Changing Relationships with the Cities October 27, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Capital Region Notions, Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Mystical, Personal Journey.
add a comment

Since I moved now to Rensselaer, I’ve become aware that my relationships with both Albany and Troy have shifted quite a bit. Because I worked downtown and have since ankled the soul-suck job, I have an understandable hesitancy about heading down that way again.  I have an assignment from my favorite Willow Goddess to visit every day for an hour a day for 2 weeks, to begin when I was ready.  I started that yesterday, and on the way to the park, I found I wanted to avoid being seen by anyone from any of my old jobs.  It’s funny, but I was on Pearl Street for a couple of minutes last week, and I walked past someone I used to work with, and it was like she didn’t recognize me.  I was sort of glad about that, and hopeful even.

The City of Albany is a bigger place than just that State-Pearl-Broadway corridor.  That is the epicenter of the place, but I find it’s occluded by all the bidness tealings that are going on down there.  All of that excess negative energy gets in the way of hearing the City’s vibrant soul.  It’s been just all that I can do to check in with Aurora Petra Majesta, and every once in awhile, Cappy at the top of the hill to say “Hey deah!”  I found myself looking at the city wistfully as I drove in on Route 32 and realizing that I no longer was in the same place.

Likewise with Troy, and I feel an odd sense that I was really never meant to put down roots there.  That while I was meant to live there for a time, that I wasn’t meant to stay there and that I can see this in retrospect is interesting to me because I really didn’t understand that in the time in lived in Little Italy.  I acted as if I was supposed to be there, but in the intervening time since the Breakup, it’s become more and more apparent that Troy served its catalyzing purpose of parting what wasn’t resonant to begin with.

The metallic nature of Troy worked to slice the relationship in twain, and to leave the two of us as single again.  That’s just the way of it.  Now I’ve left the place and while I sort of miss it, I do love this new place I’ve moved to.  In fact, though I sense I’m heading ultimately into a forest community of some sort, I wonder if there’s a way I’ll be able to hold onto this location.  It’s a piece of the puzzle to ponder.

I think that as life continues on, my relationship with Albany will deepen in profound ways.  I have this vision of myself way in the future as an Elder Shaman, walking down Broadway amidst the ruins of the former capital of the Empire State.  I sense that the notion of the U.S.A. is a quaint memory of times gone by, held in reverence mixed with spite.  That the place now is in a different relationship with its denizens, and I’m taking a nostalgic stroll along the pathway I walked each day for a time to attend to one of my soul-sucks.  I keep walking up B’way and turn up Livingston and head as if up to Albany Memorial because I’m visiting a family that needs my Elder/shaman aid.  I wear a cape, no shirt, a sarong, sandals.  It’s a bright and cold December day, no snow on the ground and none expected.  I seem to be all right with the bluster and reveling in the sun.  It’s an image I’ve long had, and I don’t know where it fits in, how it fits in with the future I’m imagining for myself.  But I know there’s an essential truth in it, and that Albany is in my blood.

Nine of Wands October 17, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Capital Region Notions, Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Personal Journey.
add a comment

In Stevee Postman’s Cosmic Tribe tarot deck, the 9 of wands is labeled “Community.”  When I first moved up to the Albany-Troy area, I associated this card with the yearning for a place where I feel like “they’ve got my back, and I’ve got others’ backs as well.”  I found it would come up every once in a while with readings involving the first company I worked with here, and sometimes I feel an odd nostalgia for that place.  Not that I wish to go back, but I did feel that there was some sort of nascent bonding there that had some pop.

More often than not, it refers to my dream these days.  When I do tarot readings for myself, I use a modified Celtic Cross.  I let the first card be the significator, and then “this covers me,” “this crosses me,” etc.  I also pay attention to the bottom card, and I use a relatively recent technique I learned at a witch camp where I add all the value cards together and reduce it to a number between 1 and 22 to get a Major Arcana card that links all the cards together.  The bottom card literally shows what is at bottom of the situation, oftentimes the bottom line.

Today, I visited Crandall Park in Glens Falls, New York, and the pine trees there invited me to take a reading for their insights into my situation.  The end result is the Heterosexual lovers card (Lesbian lovers was also in the reading, but in the leaving influence position), and on the bottom?  Yep.  9 of wands. 

It is stressed in literature about establishing community how difficult it is to form these elusive creatures of commonality.  One doesn’t go in with a recipe.  Instant community?  That’s like powdered water.  What do you add to it?

Dmitry Orlov and others have pointed out that community is oftentimes created out of necessity and circumstance.  Like in New Orleans during Katrina.  Communities and tribes basically formed spontaneously as the crisis unfolded, and the unlikeliest of people ended up bonding–just like in disaster movies!  I feel like we’re all collectively living on the set of a reality disaster series, but it’s like most people are unaware of the scenario. 

I do think that is changing, and my experiences over the past 2 months have encouraged me to develop a wider sense of hope and optimism.  Today, I choose to focus my energies on the most wonderful outcomes.  And I’ve alluded to this in the past on this blog, that I envision a place where I can walk out of my home after toweling off from a fresh shower, without any side trip to the bedroom “to get dressed.”  That the sky is enough of a suit for my glorious powerful self and it is to be shared and celebrated.  I have even gone so far in my visions to see myself wearing workboots (only!) and climbing up a ladder to the top of a house being built, to construct the roof. 

Those pine trees seem to have been saying to me, yes, yes.  The choices are coming and you can make them.  Some choices will be ones you would make anyway, and others may be a bit awkward, but it’s there.  The linking card (the Wheel) says to me that the magic of the times calls for this Work, these Powers to be unleashed.

And I’ve been doing it and celebrating my blessings all along the way.

http://www.cmt.com/videos/miranda-lambert/500805/the-house-that-built-me.jhtml

Honoring the Ancestral Identity of My Corpseorate “Self” October 6, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Civilization Anonymous, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Mystical.
Tags: , ,
add a comment

Today marks my rite of passage out of this mode of vEmpire participation.  I have been in a place of nascent awakening in this cocoon of denial that osmoses around us.  This miasma of etherICK.  In honor thereof, I decided to select my Santa tie (ho-ho-ho) to embrace this gift I’m giving myself.  I wanted actually to bring a sarong to work and wear it in the afternoon, but as I recently moved and things in my house are topsy-turvy (I can’t even locate my checkbook as of yet–St. Anthony find it for me stat!), this was not to be.  Nice idea though, still the Santa tie does the trick.

The dead identity has been hanging around me, and today he falls away.  The last little bit of chrysalis will find itself kicked into spirit compost and I will start a new pathway, starting this evening.  As would be fitting, I have the first fall meeting of my playwrights’ group tonight.  In between, I shall enjoy a dinner out as a further honor of this moment of choice.

True to form with job changes, my time at woyklez has been quite busy.  It has been a continued marvel to me how the environment of turbulence further confirms my choice each day.  I see very clearly that only a handful of people are meant to work the way that people around me this day go about their business, and the rest of us try to keep up with it, but start to feel less and less worthy as the mistakes pile up and the rework needs to be done, and then there’s more and more and more of this cockamamie.

Blech.

So.  I’ve created this space, this landing pad for myself for a little bit, and now I will start to share more of my impressions and true Trance-Formations that emerge from being close to the Hudson River and the landbase in and around Rensselaer.  Perhaps I should change the title of my blog to Hudson Trance-Formations–I don’t know.  Sounds too much like a lot of other Hudson websites, and it’s confusing too because there is a city to the southeast of us called Hudson. 

So far, my impression of the spirit of Rensselaer is that he is quite a handsome fellow, but one who is comfortable in the shadows.  He has no need to step out into the limelight, but I think he does feel a need to be honored and recognized for his observation skills.  This is but a first impression, but that’s what I think for the time being.

Radical Self-acceptance September 16, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Capital Region Notions, Cultural Janitorial Detail, Mystical, Personal Journey.
1 comment so far

The past few months have been about shearing away that which no longer serves me.  The unfolding journey of this God demands that the impediments be cast aside, and they have been falling away in rot, or they have realized that their energies and mine don’t agree and blasted themselves away, and I’m getting ready to blast one away that is socially acceptable, but obstructs my wholeness, my authenticity. 

The fundament of Frostwolf is that I am a nature guy through and through.  I woke up to this seven years ago as the sugar and flour left my body.  In fact, it was at about this time of year, as fall started to settle in, that I realized this aspect of myself.  One particular day I went up to the Cloisters in upper Manhattan.  Somewhere after the equinox, I started to notice a deeper beauty in the surroundings, and then I realized the slow-but-fast nature of the changes occurring in the wheel year.  It got so that I could discern the quality difference of autumn before Samhain and after.  Then also, the shift into Yule, even though it’s covered and threaded with all the commercialism of the C holiday.  It wasn’t really until the Groundhog Day of 2004 though, that some things about this started to become more apparent, and the feeling of the earth’s energy below my feet was starting to get my attention.  It was around this time that I was told I was a witch, whether I knew it or not, and before too long, I had started off on a path toward embracing that aspect of myself. 

I had been in small ways all along, with my commitment to my playwriting.  I see in retrospect that much of what goes on with my playwriting reflects a connection to my soul, and many times in the past, that has been able to supersede the addictions in my life.  I have often wondered whether writing itself was an addiction, and I’m sure it can be.  But if so, it’s one like food for me.  I can’t survive without either.

And I can’t survive “nature anorexia” much either.  This is leading me to a deeper understanding of my power.  My raw, naked, natural power, when I’m raw, naked and powerful in nature.  I’m working at the details of manifesting the time I need to enter into what Bill Plotkin calls “the Death Lodge” in Soulcraft.  In fact, there is a physical place that has manifested and into which I shall be moving this weekend.

I shall have a couple of announcements soon.  One which will not be a surprise to those in the know, and the other… Well, let’s just say those who know me will probably say “It’s about effin’ time!”  And then I’ll get to work-in-rest. 

“I’m gonna ride in the Chariot in the morning Lady, I’m getting ready for Acceptance Day. My Lady, Lady!”

Half-measures Availed Us Nothing September 1, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Cultural Janitorial Detail, Personal Journey.
add a comment

Each day, I recognize I have a choice to go towards love and power or to fall into self-loss and fear, and all that goes with that. 

There were so many lessons that come with me into the next phase of my development.  Gosh!  Do I have to remember to breathe or what?  Momentous changes are working their way through my life, and I have to have r a d i c a l  trust in the process – “radical” as in from the root.  Trust has to be my keyword.  And for me the key to it is connection with nature, preferably the forest.

This is sort of where I am, I must say–h/t to a fellow who knows who he is, should he ever stumble upon this site…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DUzkKsD4nA0

I cry tears of joy and adventure right now.  Wanderer, Worshipper, lover of leaving!  Ours is no caravan of despair–come yet again come!  (Thanks to Rumi for that one as well…)

Back from vacation August 31, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Cultural Janitorial Detail, Mystical, Personal Journey, Uncategorized.
1 comment so far

Energized, relaxed, aware of newfound fierceness.  I have a lot of wonderful stuff to bring out into the  world, but I was thinking on this:

My last name is “Morell.”  It’s like the mushroom, which drops one of the l’s actually.  Still, I’m contemplating the various meanings of my last name.  One is that mushroom thing right there.  The second is the baby-name book meaning “Swarthy like a Moor.”  In other words, of ebon hue.  But interestingly, I know through random experience that the Moors looked at themselves as navigators.  (Makes me wonder if there’s a connection to the star peoples.) 

The mushroom thing and the navigator thing seem to dovetail nicely for this God.  I do seem to have a sense of how to navigate through a lot of idfferent terrains, internal and external.  I’m really good with maps.  But the mushroom aspect has now become especially provocative to me.  When I attended the screening of the new 2012 movie coming out later this year, one of the panelists afterwards was Paul Stamets who specializes in mycoremediation.  The film explained how mycoremediation works, relying on mushrooms’ amazing capability of transforming toxins into usable materials.  The hub mushroom receives the information from node mushrooms, and the hub goes through its memory (or whatever it might be called), to discover the way to break a material down for use in the entire system.  It sends that info out to the other mushroom nodes which may be near to the toxin in question, and they all begin that process of breaking the material down.

That is part of the role I’m stepping nito in the future.  It’s a goodly task, but obviously one for which I will need to bring forward others who can help with the work.  It also probably involves switching off being the hub node with being just an ordinary node, at times being necessary to drive the bus of cultural remediation as it were.

I got a taste of that at Easton Mountain this past week.  It’s a powerful thing to step into a rite, to offer to take the punishment for someone else who’s transgressed so that the earth and her children might receive a sense of justice.  There’s a lot of sacred drama to enact all right.  I’m just the fierce one to do it.

Say “Buh-bye” to approval seeking August 11, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Cultural Janitorial Detail, Personal Journey.
add a comment

Ah, weh…  Over the past few months, I have found myself falling deeper and deeper into a pit of despair, and I finally have a grasp on at least one strand of it.  Somehow over the past few months I’ve become a true slave to the vEmpire.  Or rather, I was aware that I wasn’t being myself and that this was causing me pain, but at the same time not feeling strong enough to do anything about it.  I turned into a seeker of approval in all areas of my life, and who the f*ck was I anyway? 

I have not been OK with a lot of things going on in my life, but pretended that they were anyway.  And consequently, if I even abandon myself in small ways, I abandon myself in much much larger ones as well.  I’m finding through keeping my numbers of how much I spend each day, that I am accruing power in a very subtle, but vibrating and reslience-building manner.  As I tot up the numbers and look at the hard data, I see that quite a bit of my overspending has to do with my codependency and approval-seeking issues.

I wrote in my 12-Step pages the other day that this behavior is rewarded in our society.  Bravo to the valedictorian of her 2010 graduating senior class of Coxsackie-Athens High, just 1-2 counties away from here, where she said that all she was being rewarded for as valedictorian was that she was the best slave of the lot.  I was so proud to be in the top 10 of my class, and for me it was a huge achievement.  I was one of only 2 in my class who went to Ivy League schools, and … well, whatever.  I got to Dartmouth and I swear, beyond the understanding that Dr. Bob Smith graduated in 1906, I still don’t really know what the frick I was doing there.  But other than getting into an Ivy League school, I didn’t have any other sort of plan for the rest of my life, and what nominal ones I had at high school graduation evaporated.

Still, that approval seeker, that needy nebbisch has always been alongside me, like a stoopid sidekick from a  Merrie Melodies Warner Bros. cartoon.  And I have recently begun to transform this energy into one of confidence.  I don’t know what I’m doing, but one thing is becoming brighter and more pronounced to me–that WYSIWYG applies not just to computers.  It applies to me.

And I have a voice, and a truth, and a playwriting blog.  Cerridwen’s Mountain has a rather prophetic play on it, for those of you who might want to see something that is unfolding in my life.  Just sayin’.  I wrote Doin’ Damage a few months ago–it was one of the 2 plays for which I was struggling to type the script.  I think I finished the play in Janurary or February–don’t remember.  Check it out.  I think it came out pretty well, all things considered.

Wonder if Barre’s story might become my own.  Oh, 9 of cups grant my wish!

The Power of the Small July 21, 2010

Posted by frostwolftfirerose in Cultural Janitorial Detail, Personal Journey.
1 comment so far

I am powerful.  Really.  I have to remind myself of that, but it’s the truth.  The power comes in ways that are mostly unacknowledged in the larger world.  Some moments manifest my power in attention to something else.  For a small example, I just read this beautiful article on SOTT.net, which was the text of a graduation speech given not too far from here in Greene County.  I put the link of it up on Facebook.  I wonder where that might lead.  The power of my attention on something being shared has wider ripples.

We are all fractals of power.  The little choices we make, such as committing my food to a sponsor, and now reporting how much I spend each day and on what.  I’m now going to start to do the same with the groceries I buy, grouping them by type of item – produce, proteins, grains/starches, fats/condiments, household, cat food/llitter, beverages, magical supplies.  (I buy 7-day candles and “spirit foods” at the grocery.)  This particular act of keeping my numbers seems to be going a looooooooong way to increasing my power.

I’ve discovered I don’t really like to pay for meals out.  It gives me less and less joy to go out, except on special occasions.  Even then, it feels kind of unimaginative.  Though I do like taking J. out to dinner for his birthday and I like it when he does the same for me.  I really crave the feeling of being debtless though.  Unencumbered.  Free.

So I imbue that idea with power.  I imbue the idea of generosity with power, and show up to sacred duties as a sponsor for example.  I have recently become aware of “holes” in my spirit body that I now “spackle” with mana when I get the chance.  Another small action I do almost every day, put myself in a charged and protective bubble.  Along with other spiritual cleansings.  These have ripples, and they actually are responsible for much that is tottering my this God’s life.

I’m grateful, but it sometimes hurts.