3:29 am
This is an AWESOME morning.  The wind outside is ferocious and the doors are making noises and the lights are all sparkly and I have a GREAT menu to work on every time I take a break from the computer.  We’re having Christmas dinner tonight because George has the day off and my sons will probably be at their Grandparent’s house tomorrow.  We all agreed to have beef tenderloin roasted with dijon mustard and rosemary.  I serve it with  gorgonzola sauce and beet risotto.  If the meat is rare, the plate is all pink and white.  Tenderloin is great because well, because it’s the best searing cut of meat on a beast, but also because it gets narrower at one end so that if somebody wants their meat well-done they can have a little gray on their plate too.  Tenderloin is closest to the spinal cord and the most-concentrated source of prions correlated with BSE (Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy–‘Mad Cow Disease’) which was first observed in humans WHO ATE THEIR CLOSE RELATIVES.  Not just any sort of cannibal can contract Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease.    You must eat a CLOSE RELATIVE; that’s why sheep get scrapie.  They’re supposed to be herbivores and ‘civilized’ man feeds them ground-up brethren.  Soylent Green isn’t fit fodder for either man or beast.
2:28 am
I received a very respectful text message from my mom.  She thanked me for the cardamom bread and said she’d deliver the cookies I made for my sister who will not be in the area on Christmas.  She also invited me to their home on Christmas morning. She’s kicked me out a number of times, screaming like a banshee, so this is a big deal and I’m praying for God’s will.  Last year they sent presents  for me, with my sons, after the celebration.  I returned them unopened of course; how could I EVER take those ridiculous baubles from people who REFUSE TO PAY THEIR DEBTS TO ME AND MY SONS?  (I sent them back with a fresh, hot pizza, right out of the oven.  Nobody said thank you, of course.)  Anyway:
“Dear Lord.  Thank you that my mother is acting like an adult.  Please show me 1)  what her invitation means, and 2)  what is my responsibility regarding it.  Personally, I’d really rather not sit at her house for hours waiting for David to show up.  Or to return, or whatever.  They ALWAYS end up waiting for David’s family.  But, my life is not my own and I’ll do what you want of course.  Give me grace to carry your presence everywhere I go; may your  will be accomplished through my life.”
“Can I say Merry Christmas? I never used to say that to anybody after studying about the origins of Christmas.  Now  I don’t even know how much relevance I should pay to symbols and historical  origins of still-significant dates and events;  nobody even knows or cares.  But maybe that’s the point?  The spirits know.  The demons know you and they tremble.  They know the importance of lots of things we humans refuse to acknowledge.  Don’t let me be like that.  Don’t let be believe even one untrue thing…and don’t let me fail to believe even a single thing that IS TRUE.”
 “Please give me your values and your priorities and let me see your strategy as you rein in a malignant narcissist who destroys faith everywhere he goes.  My dad is your problem, not mine, but I’d sure enjoy Christmas more if I didn’t have to see him or his consort.  Anyway.  You know my heart because it’s yours.  I love you.  Thank you for everything you do for me.  How do you want to be God to me today?  I want to just let you be God.  I’m done with hyper-vigilance and false responsibility and striving.  Be God in my life.  Amen.”