Dismal Day

For those of us who like to use our religion to get some good feel-good feelings, this hasn't been a great day.

Obviously I can't complain too much. After all, I have my health. And a completely improper amount of tax-free cash stashed away beyond the reach of that pesky so-called 99% and, more relevant, George Osborne.

But you know, last night's Beltane celebration was dismal. Cold, wet, the Wicker Person didn't catch fire. And it's no fun, sacrificially getting up at 5am to discover that the warm half of the year is being launched in driving rain under a cold, gray, merciless sky.

It's at times like this that lighting a tea light just doesn't help. God's a million miles away, even the ability to manufacture spiritual feelings is seeping away. I tell you, I'm so down that even the sound of the cash register in the Beaker Bazaar can't cheer me up. Not least because, given the foul weather, our Spring range of Beaker Prayer Kites is hardly flying from the shelves. Get it? Flying from the shelves? Nah, didn't make me laugh, either.

So I've been dwelling on one short sentence. In the absence of any decent experiences or gooey feelings you may not think it of much import. It doesn't fill me with love for my fellow Beaker People, it doesn't give me the urge to sing happy songs, it's just the thing to hold on. It still seems to work in a way, so I'll cling onto it.

"On the third day he rose again".

Can't prove it, can't persuade you of it, don't even feel like living like it's true. But it's what it is. It'll have to do.

Reference: lilith-dark-moon.blogspot.com