He was loud and gruff; like the self-important businessman in the coffee shop on his cell phone arranging a fate-of-the-world-dependent materials delivery. He was amorphous and suffocating; uncoiling his nebulous, weighty tentacles to slither down my throat and heave the life-giving breath from the very essence of my being. He was greedy and insistent; leaving no options but to grovel and beg for the tiniest morsel of consideration and respect. He was pompous and condescending; as if he were a God on Earth---and in this moment, He was.

"I pray." And God answers my prayer with loud, gruff, amorphous, suffocating, greedy, insistent, pompous, condescending, momentary demands. And in the next moment, I pray to a different God. And in the next moment... and in the next moment... and in the next moment...

"I pray every day, all day."

If I don't pray, I am obliged to worship.

If I don't pray and if I question the necessity of worship, I am cast out.

If I am cast out, I am obliged to pray.

It is the Way.

On occasion, if I pray AND worship, I am provided an Answer. And on rare occasion, the Answer (to the consternation of the God) provides sustenance. And on these rare occasions, I am obliged to sing praise... and glory in His miracle... and worship with fervor... and spread the gospel... and pray with piety.

It is the Way.

And the Way is the Word.

And the Word is written in the "Statutes at Large" and in the "United States Code" and in the "Code of Federal Regulations" and in some 50 collections of State Statutes and in innumerable county and municipality ordinances and in case law and in regulatory provisions and in corporate and organizational bylaws and in the eternal ever-after of contractual fine print. Amen.

The Word is Law; and the Law is toothy and monstrous. I can stare it down. And I can speak against it. And I do. But I am not acknowledged. And I am not heard. This smile, that hovers above; that I find so hideous, and frightening; many others, (a great many others), find enchanting; hypnotic; beautiful. Yet many others, (a great many others), are not aware. These many others, (these great many others), do not see the enchanting smile as a smile; and they certainly do not see this same smile as hideous; they see the lips; sexy lips; and they believe it to be the kiss of these lips; but it is not; it is the teeth; only the teeth and they call it, Life. And they are chewed up; happily so. Smack; rip. Yummy.

I am not happy about the teeth. Festive decorations help. A road trip helps. A good meal helps. A purchase on Amazon helps. An array of bruises from my thumb to my elbow as a result of misadventures with a cardiologist and a large gauge needle helps. Distractions. I am still not happy about the teeth. But I am, at least, busy.

This week I am disconnected; unplugged; floating, but still tethered; by choice. And I am, at least, busy; by choice. From my vantage point, I can see the edge. I cannot see over the edge. I can see the edge. The edge is more frightening than the smile; but not more hideous. The edge is more attractive than the lips; but not as sexy. The edge is more dangerous than the teeth; but not as painful. To be chomped; and crunched; and gnashed; is to be necessary. But to work to be acknowledged and heard; to chomp, and crunch, and gnash; to actively hope; and still, at the same time, to be necessary, is to be truthful.

That's all. Truthful.

And I am confident that my truthfulness is filled with inaccuracies; like Newtonian Mechanics as it applies to sufficiently small objects; (from my perspective, I am a large object; from THE perspective, I am sufficiently small); or Ptolemy's theory of Geocentrism; (the World does not revolve around me).

And I am confident that my truthfulness is filled with imperfections; occluded and inefficient like the arteries leading to my heart; careless and hurtful like the angry thoughts and words that on occasion erupt from within; deafening and vertiginous like the tsunami freight train forever circling my thoughts; and misguided and ineffective like our efforts to build character in poor children to level a playing field when the leveling should be focused on eliminating poverty!

Yes, my truthfulness is occluded, inefficient, careless, hurtful, deafening, vertiginous, misguided, and ineffective. And it will always be so. Yet, each time I work to be acknowledged and heard; each time I chomp and crunch and gnash; each time I actively hope; I will gain some ground.

And each time I have to pray; each time I am chomped and crunched and gnashed; each time I stop to stare in disbelief; I am confounded.

And this is progress.

To be confounded, is to be necessary.

To be necessary, is to be truthful.

That's all. Truthful.