A federal judge has said the former President 'knowingly lied' when he signed some papers saying the election figures he presented were accurate.
The document even said 'under threat of perjury'.
An email from John Eastman, the ex-president's lawyer at the time, revealed that Eastman told him the documents were false but he signed them anyway.
Legal scholars agree that if he weren't a former President he would have been indicted long ago.
So, cut to the chase.
Indite already!
Last night was the best sleep I've had since being in the hospital.
I slept from 10:30 p.m. until 8:30 a.m.
If I got up to go to the bathroom, I did it sleep walking.
It felt so, so good.
Because I'm on a pill to rid my body of fluids, I usually get up twice in the night to go to the bathroom.
But not last night.
And the swelling in my ankles is almost gone.
Sleep is the savior of our lives.
Sleep well, tonight, beloved.
And pray that I do as well....
After a 5 game series, the Yankees won and move on to the League Finals.
I am so glad.
I know you know I've been a Yankee fan my whole life.
I wish I didn't care so much because it causes me such angst.
But I do.
And will.
On we go.
Tomorrow is the first game.
You know who I want to win.
October 23, 2022
Today, I want to talk about ‘humility’.
Humility is one of those things we should all want but seldom have.
The root word of ‘humility’ is the Greek ‘humus’, which means ‘the dirt’, ‘the earth’, the ground we walk on.
Remember how in Genesis God ‘forms’ or ‘molds’ Adam from the dust and breathes life into him.
We are created, according to that story, from the ‘humus’—so we should be full of ‘humility’.
And notice how God ‘molded’ Adam, like a potter would mold his clay to make something—a pot, a vase, a piece of art.
One way we describe ‘humility’ is to say we are ‘down to earth’—down to the dirt, down to the dust we were molded from.
(As an aside: Eve was created from Adam’s rib, which means—though it’s often been forgotten or ignored over the centuries—that she did not come from his skull, to lord it over him, or from his feet, to be in subjection to him, but from his rib—to stand beside him and be his equal. We should never forget that women and men are equal in God’s creation.)
I was, in my childhood, the youngest of 15 first cousins on my mother’s side. My grandmother, Lina Manona Jones, used to tell us: “don’t get above your raisin’.”
I thought she meant a dried grape until one of my cousins told me she meant ‘raising’—who you were and who you came from.
Good advice for those seeking humility—don’t get above you ‘raising’.
Don’t pretend to be more important than you are, more than your gene pool, more than your family heritage.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells a parable about a Pharisee—the highest caste in Jewish hierarchy—and a tax collector—someone who worked for the Romans and oppressed his fellow Jews.
The Pharisee prayed, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.”
But the tax collector, his head bowed, beat his chest and prayed, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”
“I tell you this,” Jesus told the crowd, “this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves we be exalted.”
Which do we want? To be humbled or exalted in God’s eyes?
Let us take a few moments to ponder ‘humility’ and not getting above our raising….
Amen and amen.
Today was a Sunday off.
I didn't sleep in. I usually get up at 8 a.m.
I didn't do much, though.
Went to the wine store, played hearts and solitaire, read a David Rosenfelt novel, looked at email, stuff like that.
People think priests should go to church every Sunday.
I don't.
I love a Sunday off!
Lazy Sunday and no regrets.
White Dog is dead.
He belonged to our next door neighbor and Brigit adored him.
She's been looking for him every day and David told Bern today he died a couple of weeks ago.
His real name was Westie and he was 14 years old--blind and deaf for several years but could still smell Brigit.
They would meet at the fence and wag and sniff and pee.
He got into our yard a couple of times and Brigit was in White Dog heaven.
And now he is gone.
Bern was crying when she came back from talking with David.
He hadn't told us, he told her, because it was so painful to him.
My contention is that when dogs die the pain is acute for us--but it fades quicker than when people die.
Farewell, White Dog!
We will miss you.
Especially Brigit.
The January 6 committee ended their 3 hour presentation today (all of which was about what the former President knew and what he did) by issuing (by unanimous vote) a summons for him to appear before them and answer questions.
There is almost no chance he would obey the summons--none, not any, nada.
But it was a great way to end their hearing.
He wouldn't dare, given all they have told me, submit to that, unless he's even more unbalanced and crazy than I think he is (which is a lot on both counts).
But it would be interesting, to say the least.
I'd pay to watch that.
