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I’ve been upset most of the day about a family matter.  I can’t talk details; some things in life are not fodder for the blog.  But still —  thoughts churn away and wear me down.

Always, always the matters that matter most are completely out of my control.  How I wish I could protect those people closest to my heart from all the hurts that life inflicts; the hurts that grow out of a shortfall of love.  And the people I most want to protect are those who depend on others to make wise choices on their behalf. 

And what are wise choices one might ask?  Well, that depends on who is asked.  It depends on who gets to cast their vote at the ballot box.   On today’s upset, I had no vote.   Maybe the decision makers considered it to be none of my business.  Obviously, I beg to differ.  Shouldn’t my love count for something? 

At one point in my life — not so very long ago —  I would have picked up the phone and put in my two cents after the fact — said my piece  — given those in charge a piece of my fine mind.  And then regret would sit in.  Almost immediately.  And I would again pick up the phone, no longer fueled by anger, to apologize before hearts grew hard.

But no longer.  These days I go outside and take action on what I can control.  I rip off the English Ivy growing up our home’s bricks.  And then afterwards, I read to keep my mind occupied with a lovely journal of May Sarton.  And then I write so the thoughts will no longer churn around in my mind.  And once delivered, my mind is empty and almost at peace.  Enough so that I can sit and pray.      

Here’s my shortened version of the Serenity Prayer, which today I’ve renamed the Sanity Prayer —  Lord help those who are not so wise.  Even if those is me. 

And as I write this I think I now have a better sense of how God must feel all those times when I make some unwise choice without giving Him a vote.