Forgive, and you shall be forgiven; give, and it shall be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, shall they pour into your lap. For with what measure you measure, it shall be measured to you.--- Luke 6:37-38.

* I get stuck really close to a milestone and then it all falls again.

The summer of 1964 I was 19. I spent six weeks in Montana, helping the priest on the Rocky Boy Indian Reservation with religious school, a census, and general pastoral work with the Indians. This was a major influence on my life. It's where I began to come up with my theory of God Math, which is different from the math they teach in school.

I learned the Lilies of the Field math. Essentially, if you don't worry about where the next meal is coming from, someone will donate 100 loaves of bread and someone else will donate 70 chickens. (Mind you, you may have to slaughter the chickens, but at least lunch is taken care of!) This also works at Sharing God's Bounty. As long as they keep dishing up un-rationed meals, there's enough food for our guests.

Then when I had children, I had another lesson. You don't halve the love when the second child comes along, you have twice as much for EACH child. Just imagine how much God must love all 6+ billion of us! Children don't realize this, and are very much into "MINE!" and convinced that every little thing someone else gets is less for them. Nations, too. If they'd just try to get along, we'd all win.

So why, if I believe this, do I still support the Iraq War? It's inconsistent, I suppose, but I saw those Palestinians celebrating on 9/11, and as long as they are so far from understanding God Math, my grandchildren are in danger, and all the fine theories go out the window here. Golda Meir said nothing could be done till the Palestinians loved their children more than they hated the Jews, and there's no sign of that yet. Their God is a vengeful God, very Old Testament, and they show no sign of even trying to conceive of a loving one.

Pets don't understand either. Ours know that if one gets petted, the other one is ignored. Fitch was scratching at the door, so Rich picked up the Super Soaker to threaten him. He left the door alone, but the dog stood there watching, with his mouth in the sad position. He finally sighed and turned away, and I pointed out to Rich that Sailor'd hoped to be shot. Rich squirted the dog and he was thrilled! Attention!!! Our furry children are sometimes worse than our human ones were!