Almost a Year

The day after Ash Wednesday, I remembered my not terribly solid Lenten tradition of reading The Gaze of Love by Sister Wendy Beckett, so I pulled the book off the shelf and quickly caught up. The subtitle is Meditations on Art & Spiritual Transformation, and I read it the first time after having read Sister Wendy On Prayer. Therefore, I was prepared then for her assertions about letting God possess you in prayer, and I barely blinked an eye. That was certainly not the case when I first read On Prayer. It shook me, to a certain extent, and I wrote about it at an early incarnation of The Ruff Draft. My, but times have changed.

I guess it’s good that I’ve started in again on The Gaze of Love, because neither art nor “spiritual transformation” has taken up much space in my life this past year or so. I’ve never been good with numbers, and as I age, I get worse at remembering dates, but a year seems like a fair guess when I say that it’s been about that long since my focus drastically changed, and, yes, it has everything to do with the plandemic. Before the page for March 2020 was lifted to reveal April’s calendar, I knew that something was rotten in the state of Denmark. In fact, I remember telling my brother-in-law that I was not at all comfortable with the “temporary” closing of businesses and schools and churches. I told him that, back when Boston and its environs were shut down to conduct the Marathon Bomber manhunt, Dennis and I were discussing how dangerous it was that elected leaders could tell people to stay in their homes and they would comply without a single complaint. I remember that Dennis and I said, at the time, “It feels like a trial run for something bigger, and they now know how easy it will be.”

So, my focus changed, and my time was spent scouring the Internet, Twitter, and the articles linked there by people who would not yet get censored for daring to question the narrative. Boy, did I get an education. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I had piles of books on viruses, vaccines, and government corruption to fill my days.

Now, here we are, nearly a year later, and our overlords are dropping hints that the virus will just blow away by April. The line they’re using is that we will have achieved “herd immunity” by then. I’d laugh if it wasn’t all so tragic, but it’s pretty much right on schedule. Now that the election has been stolen and President Trump is not in the White House, there’s no need to keep pretending.

So, we’ll see, and when lockdown mandates are lifted in April (maybe sooner), Dennis, the kids, and I might again set foot in one of our local parish churches. That is, of course, if the bishop and/or pastor doesn’t prolong the pain (and our boycott) by continuing to require masks and contact tracing, but I wouldn’t quite put it past them. Yes, we’ll see.