I've got Jesus cutting my lawn in San Diego. As far as I know, it's not the actual Jesus from the bible but a different one.

How was it decided it was okay to name your child after the son of God? I'm assuming there's no mention in the bible of "Name not your spawn after the son of God, unless you change the pronunciation".

You have to know the first parents to call their kid Jesus took a big risk. Probably, as a last minute attempt to ward off a potential stoning, they came up with the alternate pronunciation.

The worst Monday is the Monday back from a few glorious days off. That is this Monday. Work has piled up for me. My job just sits while I'm away. There is not one employee who can cover for me when I'm not there. Yet, there are several that I can cover for. I guess it's not all bad. Job security springs to mind. I can handle the pile up with ease and catch it all up in a matter of a couple of hours. The day drags on like a bad song playing over and over in your head.

How strange the coincidences and chance events that arrive when least expected. Sometimes they lead to wild, wonderful memories that can be recaptured by a mere abstract thought and sometimes they were something you once wanted so badly but have arrived too late to be born. A phone call, unexpected, made me a little wistful and I remembered how I loved him. All the days and nights of wanting and longing and hoping, followed by so many tears. And yet I am grateful to him as I discovered I can still fall in love and that feeling is worth everything.