Pure Evil
No, not me. If I'm evil it's a slip-shod lesser evil that just wants to take a nap.
I am still sick as hell, but can now spend some of my awake hours upright so I've been sewing madly, turning a pile of long sleeved shirts to short sleeves, turning some of Jim's pants from work (the Dockers) into shorts. Finishing up a few half baked quilts I started long ago.
I was merely cough-y, sneeze-y, snotty until early this afternoon when I got the news that writer Rachel Held Evans had passed on. It tore a hole in my heart, and knocked me for a loop. Both because I'd had friendly correspondence with her, loved several of her books and her recent health problems are like my worst nightmaresque ways to go that are possible for me. I've woken up intubated in ICU from a drug interaction. It ain't a garden party. I still remember the panic of waking up on a ventilator.
Cannot think of a way I would rather not go even more, unless it's being run over by a car or train. Or something equally gory, except most of those scenarios are quick. This was not. Hooked up to machinery, kept artificially in a state of coma to see if you could recover.
When I heard all I could do was discuss it with my friends. We were all in shock, stunned over this, and much tears and words happened as people struggled to come to grips with Rachel's sudden death. She'd touched a lot of peoples lives for the better.
I hadn't known long when I found out that Lori Alexander, that sniveling self-righteous coward that loves to stir the pot to get more hits for her silly website - The Transformed Wife, had commented. She, and many of her male commenters, had decided that God was punishing Rachel, Rachel was now in hell and they were glad.
Say what? Yeah, my reaction was to lose my temper. I could feel my blood pressure rising with each hate filled comment I read. Jesus wept.
I don't know much. I know my Bernina sewing machine is a million times nicer than my Singer. I know that I don't know everything. I know this lung infection is kicking my butt and making me cranky. I do know one thing, rejoicing over the death of anyone is wrong, plain old vanilla wrong. Wrapping it in what you think God's word means is even more wrong. Not just wrong, but evil, purposely evil like the Satan she keeps braying about. You will notice as you read Lori that she references Satan much more than either a loving God or Jesus. That tells you all you need to know.
I am still sick as hell, but can now spend some of my awake hours upright so I've been sewing madly, turning a pile of long sleeved shirts to short sleeves, turning some of Jim's pants from work (the Dockers) into shorts. Finishing up a few half baked quilts I started long ago.
I was merely cough-y, sneeze-y, snotty until early this afternoon when I got the news that writer Rachel Held Evans had passed on. It tore a hole in my heart, and knocked me for a loop. Both because I'd had friendly correspondence with her, loved several of her books and her recent health problems are like my worst nightmaresque ways to go that are possible for me. I've woken up intubated in ICU from a drug interaction. It ain't a garden party. I still remember the panic of waking up on a ventilator.
Cannot think of a way I would rather not go even more, unless it's being run over by a car or train. Or something equally gory, except most of those scenarios are quick. This was not. Hooked up to machinery, kept artificially in a state of coma to see if you could recover.
When I heard all I could do was discuss it with my friends. We were all in shock, stunned over this, and much tears and words happened as people struggled to come to grips with Rachel's sudden death. She'd touched a lot of peoples lives for the better.
I hadn't known long when I found out that Lori Alexander, that sniveling self-righteous coward that loves to stir the pot to get more hits for her silly website - The Transformed Wife, had commented. She, and many of her male commenters, had decided that God was punishing Rachel, Rachel was now in hell and they were glad.
Say what? Yeah, my reaction was to lose my temper. I could feel my blood pressure rising with each hate filled comment I read. Jesus wept.
I don't know much. I know my Bernina sewing machine is a million times nicer than my Singer. I know that I don't know everything. I know this lung infection is kicking my butt and making me cranky. I do know one thing, rejoicing over the death of anyone is wrong, plain old vanilla wrong. Wrapping it in what you think God's word means is even more wrong. Not just wrong, but evil, purposely evil like the Satan she keeps braying about. You will notice as you read Lori that she references Satan much more than either a loving God or Jesus. That tells you all you need to know.
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