I did something really radical last week. I occupied Omaha.
Under the guise of taking my dog for a nice long walk, I marched through the streets of downtown with hundreds of other people carrying signs ranging from “Close the Fed” to “We are the balance to their checks!” Unlike the violent protests depicted on TV, the Omaha event was more parade of hope. Omaha protesters are obscenely nice. We love our police! We obey all traffic rules. We make way for people pushing baby carriages.
And yet, I found it …

I will be ordained a deacon in twelve days..
But…you know….who is counting.
The question comes: “So, are you nervous?”
The response: I have no idea what I am.
How do I explain that every day my stomach
wants to jump out of my mouth?
My prayer life is rocky, I cannot focus,
and I am completely restless.
How do I explain that my line of conscious thought
is whipping around like a downed power cable or a firehose;