By Scott Linscott

I’ve been given a stuffy to take care of this morning. I am not supposed to put him down. Meanwhile, loud Lego construction work is happening on the floor nearby. I don’t know why I am responsible for Puppy. I wonder if this is a paying gig.

No one calls me, “Nana.” My coffee mug is a lie. It’s a big mug so I am okay with this lie. Generally, I dislike lies unless they are my own lies. We all are fond of and very protective of our own lies. It’s confusing.

Shouldn’t “menopause”be called “womenopause?” Men don’t go through it. I mean, we don’t go through it unless we are married to a little furnace that switches on and off without warning.

Cats’ purring confuses me. Did phone makers discover the secret to cat purring when they invented vibrate mode?

I find it ironic that gas stations sell cigarettes when they are so firmly against smoking and have signs everywhere.

I’m confused by cargo on ships and shipments on train cars and trucks. Shouldn’t shipments be on ships and truckgo be on trucks and cargo come by train cars?

I’m confused by some work stoppages. For example, if sign makers go on strike, who makes their picket signs?

7-up? What happened to the first six? Why seven? Did 3-up taste gross?

If police arrest a mine, do they tell them they have the right to remain silent? Is it necessary?

Bagpipes confuse me. How does one know when her bagpipes are out of tune? What led to their invention? Did someone unintentionally squeeze a bag of cats and think it sounded awesome?

Self-help groups confuse me.

I wonder how much deeper oceans would be if sponges went extinct?

“He has egg on his face,” is a confusing expression as is “he has to eat his words” and “getting a serving of humble pie.” I’m hearing those pretty frequently this weekend. I can’t see any trace of egg and there are no pictures of words being eaten. I want to know what humble pie looks like because I am usually a big fan of pie and have a difficult time believing any pie is bad. I’ve never met a pie I didn’t like.

Nonetheless, there are quite a few political people getting tough lessons in empathy this weekend and eggs, pie and word-eating are making their way into newsprint and social media.

I try my best to be sad when people are sad and glad when people are glad but I have to admit that I kind of like it when mean people hit tough times. I want bullies to take a beating. When someone passes me doing 95 mph, I kind of hope there’s a trooper ahead. I want them to get what I think they deserve.

Judgement and justice are confusing. I want both for others but want grace and mercy for myself. I’m hypocritical.

The current political climate in America, the outrage, and the conflict has me finding a lot of ugliness in my mirror. I want to reflect the personality and character of my Jesus and am doing my darndest to have self-control, but ugliness is bubbling just below the surface.

The emotions are confusing but my instructions, my code for how I choose to live are clear …

put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.  And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts

Colossians 3:14-15

I’m getting spiritually and mentally dressed this morning, struggling to get my giant, ego-swelled, selfish head through this head-hole in my Jesus sweater of love as I attempt to “put on love” and let peace rule in my heart.

Put on love. It looks good on both of us.

PUUUUUUSH!