THE BOOK OF DEBORAH 6/19/24

WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING

So Deborah of the Old Testament, young and vigorous in her prime, would be strategizing with God on the war efforts between Israel and Hamas, asking for recruits among her soldier friends. 

She might lead a sortie to rescue hostages, then offer counsel on righteous judgments for atrocities. She would finish with a new song, maybe have a bestseller again–the Taylor Swift of 1127bce.

This Deborah however, circa. 2024ce is much older than her. She lived to sixty years of age whereas I’m well past that, no matter what era we live in. I’ve studied and passed all my out-of-shape, hard-of-hearing, could-see-better courses. Now as a senior when do I graduate?

I have the ambition of a water lily living in the desert sand. The stirrings of a vacuum, the scientific one, not the Hoover where at least I would suck. Cheese and rice Jehovah can I get a little get-up-and-go around here?

My inspiration to write, which I had hoped would be my passion at this stage of the game is as motivated as my neighbor is to mow his lawn. It’s two feet tall. 

I’ll end by saying be optimistic and keep digging. I'm happy to say the garden is planted and so far thriving. I’m hoping my writing will grow as well as the weeds of which I pulled three today. And in keeping with my somewhat violent namesake, O.T.D., Old Testament Deb, I grenade-tossed at least thirty slugs into that tall grass next door. I am trying.