Copper Chronicles

Father’s Heart

November 1st, 2025

I discovered that God, my Father, had a me-sized hole in his heart. A place I perfectly. He was waiting for me waiting all this time. When I abide with Him, everything makes sense. I can watch chaos outside as a witness and not as participant. I am no longer subject to the madness of this world.

Growing up, I didn’t really belong anywhere. I mean, I lived in a house with people. But, our existence was more like a bad movie that never ended. Whatever the rules of Being, there seemed no order, peace, or well-being in that house. Obligation without reward, seems fitting description of misery.

There is a war going on for my soul. One side gives love – the Adversary steals it. One side seeks truth and my well-being, the other imposes his own damnation on me. Misery- without hope of happiness.

What a privilege to be given the intimate knowledge of existence, exploring the nature of good and evil, and the ability to choose who I will be. Whose purposes will I serve?

I choose to dwell with my Father, God, Who is Love.
Merciful God

October 31st, 2025

For new readers, I’ve long been searching for sense in this world. You may be suspicious as well of the torrents of non-sense plaguing human beings for centuries as well as in our time- wondering whether anything or anyone may save us?

This seeming ocean of non-sense is actually, completely predictable from a Shakespearean vantage point. Or say, Plato, Socrates, the sages and prophets of previous ages, I have discovered. Chaos is the natural result of disordered souls, beings absent of truth, not subject to any authority other than their own impulses and wants.

This is not new knowledge, its just new to me. What may be new is I believe a soul needs to live in this state of disorder because there is inherent shame in it. It is not hard to believe people tend to tuck away our less- than- best- selves from the world? Then we buy makeup, or work out, and try any manner of ways to improve ourselves, so that we may be more acceptable? It’s also human nature to “prove” ourselves.

But, shame is rooted more deeply than our appearance, our accomplishments, or status. Those things can change.

Shame happens for lack of knowing how good God is, I believe. “Oh that my ways were directed and established to observe your laws and decrees! Then I shall not be put to shame {by failing to inherit Your promises} when I have respect to all Your commandments.” (Psalm 119:5, 6 Amplified Classic Edition).

I have been uncertain what plagues me and vexes me for decades. Something inside my being has been ‘wrong,’ or missing, falling short. Then, I look out at the world and it seems a great void, and chaos. Our culture does not seem focused on proving or improving itself- a concept embedded in other cultures for centuries.

But, even if I prove culture is becoming vulgar, hollow, like a techno-pagan nightmare, it still doesn’t solve the problem of my own being. There’s an imperative inside me that is inescapable. It’s a continual frustration trying to be someone- but I am not sure exactly Who.

Shame follows me like a shadow, suggesting that I am supposed to be someone. I didn’t know who, exactly until this morning, I discovered I am supposed to be like God, my Father.

That nagging sense also suggests I am less than what I am capable of being. I am made to reflect the image of God. Knowing what God is like helps me know what I am supposed to be like- my Father! Finally!
Great and Terrible Times

October 30th, 2025

There is a Great Reckoning coming, I believe. A world long hidden from my eyes is emerging: One where my participation is appreciated and valued. It’s a place where I am free to be me without threat of retaliation or fear.

The world that currently is, ceases to clamor as I am wearing a garment of truth. “As for God, His way is perfect: The Lord’s word is flawless; He shields all who take refuge in Him.”

I have put on this garment freely, as truth that is transcendent is beautiful, liberating, and above all, it makes sense. Much of what we may see is chaotic and senseless. But, what I discovered is God Who is Love, does not desire any person to live subject to this world and its madness.

By madness I mean: living in fear, derision, and uncertainty, with no knowledge of reality beyond what is perceived with the eyes. Ai defines madness as: “the state of being mentally ill, particularly when it severely impairs normal thinking and behavior.”

Madness may seem a difficult word to accept. But, the word is accurate. Is it so far off to say people are not thinking and behaving normally?? They are living blindly?

I am just the messenger, long trying to escape this world and its chaos. That may seem not normal to this world. But what constitutes sane behavior? Unbridled consumerism, social media addiction, and hellish Halloween celebrations?

It’s great to escape the world and its madness. But it’s terrible for those people lost in it. Perhaps a cosmic cataclysm will occur- waking the world from its perilous course?
Asses and Classes

October 29th, 2025

Glasses is a great word that connotes: needing to see more clearly. I’ve been an ass most of my life, and not a loving, affectionate beast the way tradition views them, like the donkey who carries Christ to Jerusalem. Instead, I’ve been an ass who kicks and creates all sorts of fuss.

I can be ornery, and thrash things that come into my pasture. And, perhaps this is why I have a sort of solo existence. For my own safety and for others.

I can be stubborn, willful, not wanting to conform to culture. It’s not that I do not like people, I am just not like other people. I am an ass with a job to do. That doesn’t always make sense to people.

“You’re an ass??” Critics may question. Yes. Yes, I am. “And your happy about that?” Yes, sir 😄

Copper, my favorite hen, shimmered in the sun, happily pecking around in her pen each day. I fenced in a spacious pasture area for my four pals. And, built a fortress-like cabin filled with hay and a sunny window for winter.

A hemlock tree shaded one side of their dwelling place. The hens like to climb in the lower branches and occasionally, climb up the tree at night to watch the sunset. Hens know how to be happy, I observed.

Hens require fewer demands perhaps than a human soul. But they require similar ones like: security, affection and companionship. Fun and frolicking. Purpose.

When I started writing Copper Chronicles, I didn’t have any of those things. Existence is empty and tragic without them.

My hens taught me valuable lessons, I wished I learned as a child. Or, perhaps it’s better to say: I am still a child with lots to learn. My childhood is not gone. I am not lost.

Christ tells us to come to him like little children, so my soul may grow up again in His Love. I can be free from my unhappy past.

My hens taught me lots, now its time to learn from donkeys. I believe a donkey requires similar conditions: security, kindness, fun and frolicking during free time. Also: duty and purpose. Some useful contribution to the world makes me feel worthy of being.

I believe tragic emptiness of existence is because I had no purpose. Or, at least, I was given jobs to do that were not what I considered “worthy contributions to the world.”

Like, at home one of my least favorite jobs was hosting pop-in guests. I had to stop everything I was doing and miraculously transform into Martha Stewart. Mother had a big opinion of us, rather too big. Pretending to be someone I am not is painful.

I am glad to be only an ass in all its connotations now. At least it fits who I am on the inside.

The donkey in the Bible gets an honorable mention for its contribution to the world. How happy that every creature may find its place and purpose!
Soul Synthesis

October 28th, 2025

Early morning is time to wake if I want to hear the Creator speak. Our beings are at rest and may ‘hear’ the stirring of the soul in the deep quiet. It’s not a voice. More like presence. One that does not require physical form.

One who gives me life, also gives me identity. When I spend time ‘being present’ with my Creator, my soul comes alive.

This morning I woke up dreaming about three cute asses. My inclination is to sleep as a refuge from the coarse, chaotic world. An escape from what has been my role in it – as burden bearer with little to no thanks. That can be exhausting.

Kindness is like a balm that heals. It’s a reward and refuge from hardship so that a beast may happily endure her lot.

Difficulty without reward is like continual punishment. When I saw the little asses looking at me (they were peeking at me over the mountain of blankets I take refuge in at night), I wondered whether this was kindness, or some kind of resentful mocking like the horrible Halloween pumpkins I have always hated.

On closer observation, the three asses were happy to see me. They were cute and happy. Like Copper my hen and Lyle, my loyal and loving lion friend. My heart was glad to see their happy selves although what this portended was not clear.

My first inclination was to think God thinks I am an ass. That three donkeys emerge in a dream to tell me this – this must be important.

Three is symbolic of “The Three,” Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I repented of being stubborn, and maybe willful and ornery, that is my perception of asses. What little I know.

ChatGPT gave me a detailed description of donkeys in Biblical and spiritual literature. Symbolic of duty, humility, and sturdiness. I try to be useful. I may also be simple, foolish, and occasionally difficult to manage. But, I believe the message was one of hope.

Three donkeys are here to help me bear the load of my burden. And, I am not in trouble: which happens when my loyalties are misplaced. People do not always appreciate asses as they should.
Soul Peace

October 27th, 2025

My soul has found a place of rest, finally after fifty years. I am having my Jubilee!

Jubilee is, I believe, a place or season in time God designs for the righting of wrongs. A time of deliverance and recompense, the Bible says. The celebration includes a year long rest, where all debts are cancelled. Debtors are free from their burdens. That means me too!

Even I am free from my burdens which seems right. “What is impossible for men is possible with God” Luke 18:27 says.

A season that releases us from past burdens reflects God’s nature and character. He should like us to live free by His Laws and the universal law of Love demonstrated in Christ. But, as human beings we fall short and our lives become filled with burdens. Therefore, we labor to overcome our limitations and be our best selves.

Like Adam and Eve, we part from God. To whatever degree we absent Him from our lives, we wind up scratching around this dirty world trying to find sustenance. But, God planned for us a whole garden!

Merciful God, knowing all our human effort is not sufficient to make us whole, gives us His nature freely, love we cannot possibly earn, freedom, and a whole new life.

Soul Peace!
What is Love?

October 25th, 2025

I confess, Aristotle’s idea about categorization is helpful. The world around me is more defined. And so, less mysterious and chaotic.

One of my purposes of writing is exploring what brings a soul peace. Ordering myself in light of truth that I find helps me know myself. And that makes me feel peaceful.

Odd how truth is like a garment I can put on and feel OK. For example, I can be experiencing a tumultuous uproar in my being. Not a biological one- like from eating beans. But, an emotional one. And, truth sort of relieves my mind of its frantic search.

A soul can become distressed by what I consume mentally, just as my body responds to foods I eat. I believe my thoughts and attitudes about myself are a source of great dis-peace.

Dis-peace is a made up word for soul chaos. A beloved teacher told me not to repeat words, like chaos, in one paragraph. By varying my word choices I add dimension to my writing.

Plus, a phrase like “soul chaos” may be easier for people to relate to. If we don’t have shared words and common expressions, it’s hard to have conversation or community.

Soul chaos is disorder of being. This happens when I believe things about myself that aren’t true. Thoughts, ideas, and words that do not resonate with who I am inside, clang, vibrate, even reverberate in my consciousness for days and days.

Untrue thoughts are like a madman knocking on the door, seeking to destroy my soul. Big Pharma claims to have a pill to reduce anxiety. But, I am just going to not allow those lies to find rest in my being. I am not listening to them anymore.

Thank God for the Internet! If we only had media largely funded by Drug Company ads, we’d never know the truth about reality, peace. And find healing for soul dis-ease. 😀

So then, Love is wisdom, truth, peace. Relationship. Good teachers. Mental clarity, soul wholeness. Freedom from lying corporate entities that profit off our dis-ease. But never actually solve it.

How beautiful love is!
Dear God,

October 24th, 2025

In many ways I am still a child. It would be dishonest for me to hide my lingering anguish, which I believe emerged at Girls Scout camp in 5^th grade. So, what was so awful then?

I remember being forced to leave home. And driving far away. A feature of my family trips in the big, brown station wagon was me getting carsick. My head hung limp and heavy out the window like a dying dog gasping for air. So, there’s that.

My mother packed a suitcase full of snacks, like Oreos. I really liked those little sandwich cookies. But even those were not satisfactory comfort when my roommate went missing. And everyone thought she drowned in the lake.

Perhaps this is “separation anxiety?” That is the state of not feeling safe, ever, because something is missing. I may be physically safe, like in my apartment that is built like a fortress. But the presence of anxiety suggests the absence of something else.

Anxiety proves I am missing something. Or I am just not conscious of whatever gives a soul peace.

Wow!! I feel like Sherlock Homes today!

My first inclination is to stop feeling sorry for myself. Researchers say depression may be a biological defense mechanism that preserves people from too much pain by disabling them in a kind of fuzzy haze. Sort of like nature’s beer.

My second thought is to invite the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit into my memories. The three comfort me while I am feeling sick in the car. When I arrive at camp, they help me know what to do. They stand on both sides of me and hold my hand. They say: “Don’t be afraid.” I always feel safe and free to ask for help when I need it.

This is how St. Therese of Lisieux describes her experience with her earthly father in Story of a Soul. She saw him as a reflection of the Heavenly Father. My own father did not have the benefit of knowing the Heavenly Father, and only beer to console him in his misery. Me, too. I liked beer. Then I got heavy doses of nature’s beer, too.

Perhaps peace comes from knowing I am not alone? And that God is love? Yes.

So, I will practice the presence of God. So far it feels like a great spotlight shining on me like I am in an examination room. That is just my imagination though. God isn’t eager to find fault or punish or judge. That is beautiful.
Confessions

October 23rd, 2025

I confess I resist innovations in modern culture because of innate horror that is not necessarily rational. That we do things we are not necessarily conscious of is a bit disturbing to know. That is why detoxing my soul requires what I call intellectual and spiritual “lemon juice.”

Lemon is refreshing. But, like acidic foods it has bite! That’s its beauty. If I do not accept bitterness of lemons and of life, I cannot live effectively. Then I simply remain. Or, continue to exist. Inert, entitled, and frustrated.

Now that I have painted my past experiences as lemons, or bitter, I may freely move on out of Inertia. Mortimer Adler would be proud, I believe. He was a philosopher who explained Aristotle’s process or pattern of thinking that requires categorization.

If I have an old wound for example, I may nurse it continually but never quite recover from it. That is something we do as human beings according to Carl Jung whether we are conscious of it or not, I believe. Protecting ourselves from future harm is instinctual.

However, if I categorize a feeling or traumatic event – giving it words and describing it as “lemon” or “bitter,” then I can work out rationally ways of coping with it. That is the power of categorization. It delivers an unconscious something I am experiencing into my conscious mind.

Otherwise, my struggles and fears stay hidden even to myself. I can receive neither comfort, relief nor absolution from my unhappy past. That is Confessions’ original purpose- freedom? Yes?

Otherwise, I am trapped- inert and powerless- in my painful past. Unable to work toxins out of my soul.

Confession is good for the soul. So is Mortimer Adler, Aristotle, and lemons.
Priests and Postulates

October 22nd, 2025

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.