I know this picture makes me look mean.  Ashley tells my visitors that I always have a scowl with the swelling in my jaws, and that I’m not mad.  But she’s wrong.  I’m very angry.

Why so mad?  Well look at me, for one.  Pretty wife.  Handsome little boy.  Both of them gone.  Gone to the splashpad without me so I could sleep.  You know what else?  This house is a wreck.  All the soups and drinks and blenders and fruit for smoothies… people just showed up and brought it.  A mailman brought me two cases of Ensure in a big box.  I had to sign for it myself.  Didn’t he see I was MAD?

People brought me magazines.  Thanks for the magazines.  I even got flowers.  But I’m MAD!

My dog won’t look me in the face.  He feels sorry for me.  Well I don’t need your sympathy, dog.

My face is mangled and swollen and tied shut.  My mouth is full of stitches and filth.  From ear to ear it ALL throbs.  I ran out of drugs.  I want a Turkey sandwich.   But do you know why I am so MAD?

control.

I don’t have it.  I thought I had some, finally.  But it doesn’t exist.  Then I was thinking about it.  Control is desired because of fear.   It is a substitute for love.  It is motivated by pride.  The opposite would be to surrender to faith, love and humility.  Those things exist.  I don’t want the reigns of control anymore.

And hopefully very soon I can have that Turkey sandwich.