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Joy Is The Oxygen: Sugar And Torture
The Christmas season runs on two things: sugar and torture. Here, kids, build this gingerbread house. Here are some graham crackers. Oh, frosting, too. How about gumdrops coated in sugar? Maybe some chocolate M&Ms to line the roof. Licorice for the window trim. Maybe a door specially crafted out of marshmallows and gummy bear people…
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Joy Is The Oxygen: Metabolize Joy
A shepherd led his smallish flock down the side of a hill to a grassy valley. It was dusk, so he descended into shadows, but he knew the valley by heart. Low stone walls created several protected areas and folds for his animals. He stood between two gates in the wall, each leading into separate…
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I Am Jude Pt. 9
I Am Joyful…Or At Least I’m Learning To Be I read somewhere that there’s a difference between joy and happiness. I guess happiness is temporary, and joy is what stays even during the ups and downs. Or it’s that joy is not defined by circumstances. I think I’m joyful. I really do. Maybe I’m not…
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I Am Jude Pt. 6
I Am Okay—At Least I Say So—When I’m Anything But It’s been a while since my last meeting. The church ramps up during the Christmas season. It’s a lot like easter, where we try to put lipstick on the pig and pretend that these two Sundays are everything, and what an opportunity it would be…
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I Am Jude Pt. 5
I Am Desensitized I watch too much TV. Almost every night. The stories draw me in, and I’m lifted from my own problems and shortcomings. It’s easy to find characters I identify with or can root for. The setting becomes my reality for a series of episodes—some medieval realm or the grassy plains of untamed…
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I Am Jude Pt. 4
I Am Vain I have dandruff. At least, I think. I don’t really know if it’s dandruff. Google says dandruff is when you’ve got an oily scalp or something. But my scalp feels dry—flaky and snowy. I look all over the internet for the miracle cure. It makes me insecure. It’s vanity, after all. Why…
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I Am Jude Pt. 3
I Am Sorry The iPhone buzzes on the nightstand. It’s twilight, and the sun barely pours through the curtains. My head’s in twilight, too. It finally registers that my phone is buzzing because someone’s trying to reach me. The caller I.D. says, “Mia.” “Uh,” I clear my throat, “hello?” “Pastor Jude?” I hate when they…
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I Am Jude Pt. 2
I Am High-strung My sister lives just a few blocks from the rec center, so I step out into the cold and walk the sidewalks to her place. A waist-high chain-link fence around the front yard keeps the dog in. A red bike with cards in the spokes lays sideways across the brick path to…