Living in the margins
In recent months I have been working on trying to keep my soul in a quiet and contemplative stream of thought and belief. Before I had surgery in October my mind and heart and spirit were not quiet and it was hard to be at peace with God, let alone myself and others around me. Part of that was biological, I had several nerves in my brain being compressed and they were firing on all cylinders all hours of the day. But part of it, the greater part of it I believe was in my spirit. I was in spiritual warfare with myself, with fear, with doubt and disbelief. I could not imagine that God would allow me to be so sick, I could not believe that he was not providing financially like I hoped he would, and I could not believe my wife was ill also. The two edged sword of my mind had been whittled down into something resembling a butter knife, a dull, unobtrusive, plastic butter knife to be exact.

