|Dove in my backyard|
Years ago, I posted some sharp retorts to a man on a message board. I was completely right, but entirely wrong to post like I did. That night, I dreamed a man being so angry, so, so angry, and he couldn’t do anything about it. I think I knew he was mad at me in the dream...but one thing I remember for sure is that when I woke up, I knew God was telling me He didn’t like my behavior. Call me crazy, call me a dreamer…it’s probably true.
I am almost certain some of my bad moods are Facebook-induced. This world, People! Have you noticed what’s going on? Of course you have. But I’m going to toss out at least 4 cents worth tomorrow so you can be as disturbed as me.
I was in Wal*Mart this afternoon, and I realized that I really wanted to give in to the depression that was trying to creep in. But I was too far back in the store to throw my hands up and run screaming to my car…I have a cold and no energy. It would have embarrassed me having to stop midway to the front door to catch my breath during a coughing fit, trying to explain to the police between gasps and coughs that Facebook drove me crazy.
The things people post…surely they can’t believe all of that stupidity. Mindless! It’s a virtual landfill. I go pilfering around looking for valuables…and I find them: a scripture someone posts, a heartwarming video, a note from an old friend, or new photos from family who live far away.
But it is still a toxic wasteland.
And I wonder why I’m in a bad mood! Not really, it’s because of this world in which we live…what a great name for tomorrow’s post: This World In Which We Live
But in the meantime, I’m going to work on not saying the first retort that comes to mind (some of them are good zingers; not Christlike, but zappers), not typing everything I want to type, and not slapping anyone.
I must live in this world.
It’s probably best I don’t slap others.