One of my father’s favorite funny lines was from the sitcom, Cheers.  The main character, Sam, the bar owner, says to Coach, an older bartender, “Coach, if anyone wants me, I don’t want to be bothered,” to which Coach replies, “Who does?”

And ain’t that the truth?  Who wakes up in the morning and says, “Today, I really want to be bothered.  Tailgated, harassed, dismissed.  Just want to have a crummy day!”

I wasn’t always a person of faith.  For most of my life, I was a skeptic with an odd tendency to blame God when things went wrong.  I’d never mention God during any of the good times, but the minute things went awry, I’d shake my head and “tsk-tsk” toward the Heavens.  Sure.  Can’t I ever catch a break?  Huh?  How could You allow all this stuff to happen to me?

It wasn’t until a few years ago that I realized that my life was a quilt of my own chaotic creation.  Bad relationship?  Could it be that I chose the exact wrong guy for me?  Bad job?  Could it be that when I took that job, I regarded it as an interim measure, and then settled for the “devil-you-know” since there were no other obvious prospects falling from the sky?  Bad time in traffic?  Could it be that I chose to live in a very populous state, with no way to get to work or to stores except via crazy-busy highways?

When all is said and done, I believe that we all want the same thing: a prayerful, peaceful, purposeful life. Now you might say, some people don’t believe in God, so they don’t seek a prayerful life.  I define prayerful as focusing your energies into that which you perceive as right and true. To me, it means praying to God, whom I also refer to as “the Universe” or “All-that-is.”  Non-believers might find their prayerful outlet in family traditions, in the arts, or by helping out in the community.

I think we work so hard and deal with so much because we believe that one day we will be able to live this type of life.  Prayerful.  Peaceful.  Purposeful.  Something more than running in the rat race.  A place where, even if everybody doesn’t know your name, they know at least one thing about you:  that you don’t want to be bothered.  But then again, who does?

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