That what disturbs me is allowed to exist is proof of God’s love. What is, is by no means a reflection of what could be. Like a bear looking for berries, I have been wandering the wilderness of the world, biting this, nibbling at that. Now, I have toxic shock syndrome of the soul.

Priests say a lot of things I don’t understand. But, the adage confession is good for the soul seems universally accepted in our culture. Certainly, we must discern what we are saying and to whom. Children do not possess the ability to understand what they are hearing or experiencing.

Growing up watching television, I saw and learned behavior conventionally viewed as “adult” that was traumatizing. I remember being in what mother called “The Den.” The room had a puce green rug, a popular color in the seventies. I’d sit on the floor watching television because I was nimble and stretchy like children are. The comfy seats were for the older people who worked long hours like my dad. His armchair was orange.

It was Friday night. In my childlike mind this meant nothing except everyone else was gone. Alone, I put on the television.

It was dark outside. I was very young; but old enough to wonder, Should I be alone at 10 o’clock at night?

“Quincy” with Jack Klugman was on. His character was a doctor who worked at a city morgue and solved crimes, I believe. A man lay dead on a metallic table; a cold sheet covered him.

Quincy lifted the cover to reveal a grey, lifeless head. Music played dramatically in the background as if a man being murdered was very exciting. And we should all be glued to the television to find out why.

Like I said about children, I didn’t have words or understand what I was experiencing then. Murder scared me. I turned it off and wondered why I was alone. Am I safe? If people are murdered outside, is my family OK? Is anywhere safe??

Hollywood has made murder a sport. Displaying human beings in brutal and depraved ways is entertainment.

Are human beings like this? Or does watching television make them so??

Now that I know I am loved and have three powerful friends, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, this doesn’t scare me. I understand why people may not want me around. I know horrible things. Things that are hard to see and hear.

I am like a “liver” of collective consciousness. But, I know The Cure! We’re going to need intellectual, spiritual, and actual lemon juice for starters. Lots of it.