WANG- DANG- DOODLE

PART THREE

I gather from yesterdays comments that its not just me....and even though my disappointment and confusion were hard to express ya’ll seemed to know what was on my mind. Of course I would not be the first to rant about religion and maybe that’s why I should just stick to the story and let you guys do the brainwork.

When Barbara http://looking2live.blogspot.com/ came home from France she talked about her dream of having a get together with her Blog friends and wondered if they would be all that she envisioned in her mind and if they made as good of company live as they do on-line.
I’ll bet they are and do and here is why.
Bloggers are good listeners. I enjoy looking at the stories and the way they are told and making a comment as much as actually writing one of my own. And I know that the several folks I visit regular are the same way. Ya’ll heard me better than anyone did down at the Lonesome Dove Church of Historical Error and your comments explained better the follow up than my post did. I went to that Church looking to better understand a Spiritual realm that seems to be far away from my life and found my self uplifted, not by that Church, but by the affinity evidenced in the comments while trying to rant about that Church. I kept going for a few more months before losing interest entirely. I may go check on them this weekend, just for the hell of it.
He works in mysterious ways...
I have friends that would probably blame the whole thing on me!

So here’s what Stephen King says that I like a lot:
“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of because words diminish them, words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when brought out. But its more than that, isn’t it?
The most important things lie too close to where you’re secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly, with a lump in your throat so big you can barely say it, only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you have said at all or even why you said it. That’s the worst I think, when the secret stays locked within, not for want of a teller, but for lack of an understanding ear.”

Barbara, I think we would have us a time. It would be a Wang-Dang-Doodle.