To be a good writer, one ought to limit one’s use of forms of the verb “to be.” I’m lousy at this. Perhaps because forms of the verb “to be” are existential verbs; they signify states of being — to which spirituality is intrinsically bonded. Talk about spirituality, and you’re going to use a lot of is, am, are, was and weres. It is inevitable.

I’m currently stuck in an existential crisis. There are so many people around me suffering, so many who need comfort and prayer, and I feel inadequate to the task. So I’m asking for blessings. Please join me, if you would, in sending positive energy to the following:

To Tim who is battling that implacable and undefeatable foe, pancreatic cancer.

To my high school pal, Vicki, fighting breast cancer.

To Lisa, my sister, and Dianna, my soul sister, both recovering from post breast cancer reconstruction surgery. (Enough already, Cancer. We get it. You’re awful.)

To our little old cat, Lula Mae, down to four pounds of skin and bones, who we hope will recover from exploratory surgery.

To everyone who has been harassed by an unscrupulous business.

To my friend who is passing through what we euphemistically once called “change of life.” It sucks.

To everyone wondering how on earth they are going to pay for college.

To the one in three women who are victims of physical or sexual abuse. One in three, folks.

To everyone in mourning.

Feel free to add your own intentions. I promise to pray for you. Cutting down on the verb “to be,” however…not gonna happen.

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