I Am Not Hamlet

I remember back in Sunday school when I was 14 or 15, and Sister "B." asked us what person from the Bible we most identified with.  I don't remember whom I chose--I do remember struggling with an answer--Moses, maybe?--but most of my peers chose the famous, the strong, the victorious: Peter, Paul, David, etc.  Those people all seemed larger-than-life, how could I identify with them.  They are in THE BIBLE , after all. Flash forward 30 years and here I am, unemployed, bounced-off unemployment insurance (for doing the right thing, I believe), struggling to find clients for my business, driving a 15 year-old vehicle that won't last much longer and wondering where is the favor of God? As the days roll on, and possible employment opportunities or clients become just smoke, I find myself tied up in a plastic bag full of fear.  The fear expresses itself as anger at God, which morphs into guilt.  Guilt because who am I to lash out at God when I could be a Syrian refugee; I

 Note: This is going out a wee bit later than planned, but that's mostly due to an unplanned overnight stay in Milwaukee. Note 2: All images from this post were carelessly cut and pasted from the internet without proper citation. What is the best gift you've received?  Here on the Ninth Day of Christmas, we can reflect on, obviously, the number nine. It is an amplification of the sacred number of three--in some circumstances the thrice cry of believers of "Kyrie Eleison" is heard three times.  There are supposedly nine angelic choirs scattered about the supposed nine cosmic spheres. We do know, as St. Paul attests, nine fruit(s?) of the Holy Spirit are available for those who seek.  This fruit might be why there are nine ladies dancing. They dance the dance of love            They dance the dance of joy They dance the dance of peace They frolic for longsuffering They waltz with kindness They caper for goodness They cavort with faithfulness They g