Thursday, April 19th, 2001; 1am
				2554 Belle Cote Ave.
				St. Louis, MO 63114

Dear God,

Monday I think it was.  I called Lucrecia, feeling a little low.  Bless
her heart, she invited me to do an errand with her:  To take the Easter
flowers she had left over from church, and take them to the grave of
her father Don Culberson and her mother Mary Fay Culberson.  Before she
came over, I found the tape that my friend and teacher Sister George Towle 
(Sisters of Charity at Leavenworth) made about the mass.  Had been thinking 
of Sister George some in the past few weeks, so telephoned her.

She sounded a little more feeble than I had remembered her.  She told me 
that she is dying, of cancer.  She was able to answer the telephone fairly
quickly, because she is now in the infirmary, and there is a telephone in
her room.  On March 22nd, she had a visit with her doctor, and the doctor
let her know that she has 1 to 3 months to live, although she could live
as long as 12 more months.  She said the doctor was upset.  I don't know 
if Sr. George was.

We had a good talk, she and I.  She asked about Victor, for whom she has
been praying all these years since Mom, Dad, and I went to visit her at
the Motherhouse right after visiting Vic in the St. Joseph treatment 
facility.  I told her that he has been doing extremely well -- that over
the past year to year-and-a-half, he has been taking to heart the 12-step
programs that he has been attending, and I sense he has found God in a way
that he has never found God before.  I told her about his habit of daily
publishing -- of a devotional every day through eletronic mail to a group
of friends or others who want to receive it, and how much it helps him,
and probably all the recipients of his mailing.  

Sister George was delighted to hear that.  "Oh, my prayers have been answered!"
she said.  She seemed very grateful to know that her prayers had been heard,
and that healing has happened to Vic.  She pointed out that there was a
reason for me to call that day.  As word has gotten out to other friends,
far and near, people have been writing and calling her.  She says she gets
a bunch of mail every day, cards, letters.  People who she has not heard
from in years, some of her favorite students.

She is discouraging visitors to her in these days.  I do not know why, but 
this is what she wants.  But she did seem delighted to hear from me.  We 
talked a little bit about humility, and what a great teacher it is.  (Or,
at any rate, I did.)  And how it is not without pain, but how the lessons
of humility are good and lasting ones.  And how pain itself can be a 
teacher, too, if one does not shy away from it, does not avoid it.  One
can live through pain with the sure knowledge that pain can brings les-
sons with it.  And without pain, how can you really appreciate the joy
when it come?  She seemed to agree (and then some!) to all that I was say-
ing.

I suggested to her that if I could not visit with her in person, that per-
haps we could have another phone call and visit again on the telephone.
She did not seem to discourage that.

We ended the conversation shortly thereafter, with her admonition, twice:
"Be good!"  I probably said, absently, "You too!"

Shortly after getting off the phone with Sr. George, I telephoned Mom and
Dad in Kansas City.  Dad answered, and I asked him to put Mom on the line
as well.  When they both came on, I told them the news about Sr. George,
and about her praying daily for Victor.  Dad said that they would pray
daily for Sister George.

At the end of that conversation, Mom asked, "Do you have a job yet?"  I
said no, that I was still not looking for one, so it would be hard for me
to find one.  At that moment, Lucrecia knocked on my door, so we finished
the conversation.

Lucrecia and I went in her car to the cemetary where her Mom and Dad and
sister are.  On the way, I put in the tape of Sr. George's Lecture on the
Mass, that she delivered to the Sierra Club in 1992.  We listened to a
good portion of it on the way to the cemetary.  After we visited her
parents' and sister's grave, I told her what was going on with Sister
George.  She had a painful expression on her face.  Lucrecia then told me,
"Today is Mom's birthday," with tears in her eyes.  (Lucrecia's Mom died
last May).  I offered a comforting hand on her shoulder.  Suggested that
we could still celebrate her mother's birthday, and that her Mom would
approve from heaven.  So we went to Steak & Shake and both had a Fudge
Sundae (even on Monday).  We talked more.  Then Lucrecia took me back
home.

I missed my 11:30 appointment Monday with my good friend Vicki Samuels,
to have lunch with her.  We were to have met at a Chinese Restaurant that
ended up being closed; I never showed up.  I called her at work around
2pm Monday afternoon to deeply apologize to her.  We will wait awhile and
schedule another lunch some time.  But not just now.  We had a pretty good
conversation, even though she had every right to be upset with me; but
she said she forgave me, and I feel that she did.  God bless her!

On Tuesday, I probably slept in, not unlike what I did Monday.  Ended up
dropping by Lucrecia's home some time after 5pm, I think.  She had an ap-
pointment at 6pm at Border's Book Shop's Coffee Shop, with a couple of her
fellow students at seminary.  She invited me to come, and I agreed to do
so.  Was glad that I did.  Met Nichelle, a wonderful young lady.  Lucrecia
had an egg salad sandwich, and I bought a coke and got a refill.  Also,
as Lucrecia's recommended the book, I purchased a book about the soul.

In her car, I told her how I had pretty well come to the conclusion that
I needed to find another church.  That Grace wasn't for me.  I partly
based that decision on the feeling I had about how welcome I would not
be at the Methodist Women's luncheon (featuring Mrs. Wreath sharing
about a trip she made to Cuba).  Which decision was based on the
instruction I received from my good friend Phyllis Rogers on how
unwelcome (or inappropriate) it would be for me to try & show up for the
Methodist Women's program the week before, which was another luncheon (I
think) followed by a program about Mary (mother of Jesus) and the
emotional life of Mary and Jesus, in the events of their day.  When I
informed Lucrecia of the discouragement I was given from coming ("Well,
a man sometimes does show up, but that is Reverend Harvey, and that is
okay, because he is a pastor;" and "You really wouldn't want to come;
we're just a bunch of old hens anyway;"), Lucrecia was shocked.  But it
was the feeling that Phyllis was right:  That down there were a bunch of
blue-haired old ladies who *were* a bunch of old hens, that helped to
convince me to not attend the program that Janet Wreath was giving
Tuesday, just looking down the hall at one of them.  It wasn't my scene.
The feeling of entrenched discrimination among all of these people ...
about what members are to do and not to do; to be and not to be; and
who is welcome to what -- helps me believe that there *has* to be some-
thing, some spiritual church home, less conservative and more attuned 
to my spiritual needs out there, especially in a city the size of St. Louis.

So I went upstairs instead, to see if there were anyone else about.  The
place seemed abandoned, but finally I heard some noise from behind the
office door.  It sounded like Pat Beaver, and it was!  Visited with Pat
for awhile; but then needed to go to a Dr.'s appointment around 1pm.

Arrived for the appointment at 1:25pm.  Saw Dr. Rolf Krojanker.  We visited
for quite awhile.  He discovered that I had been a Boy Scout, and when he
did, he informed me that as a boy, he had been a Jewish Boy Scout
(in Nazi Germany).  He told a very interesting tale about about how the
Nazi's seemed to be taking over (certain sections) of the scouts, and
how during one camp-out, Nazi (boys?) tied them up and they were lectured
on how they needed to be good little Nazi's too.  Another troop came up,
as it turned out, a Catholic troop, which somehow scared the Nazi's away,
and Rolf and his fellows were released.  He said it could have been very
dangerous for them.  The Catholic troop of boys volunteered to camp again
with the Jewish troop (perhaps incognito), which Dr. Krojanker felt was
very brave of them.  

We talked some, then, of Scouting.  Dr. Krojanker suggested that Scouting
helped me grow up and helped me with developing esteem.  I said, yes, and
told him how Dad had made me go into the boy scouts.  I also suggested to
Dr. Krojanker that I may have had a bunch more self-esteem then than I 
have now.  Am not sure he agreed with me, but he seemed to accept what I
was saying. 

He later pointed out, about the fact that I have done very little (physi-
cally or vocationally) for myself:  "You may not be moving,  but you may
be being moved anyway."  This was his explanation of what I sense he senses
happening in my life:  That I *am* growing, and although I am not doing 
much with myself now in a discernable way (pursuing new jobs, careers,
etc.), he seems to sense that I am growing.  And, he adds, at least I
am doing it now *not* in some hospital program, but rather at home.  It
seems the he feels that I am convalescing in some way, and I sense he 
does not disapprove.  (I have gone to the last couple of Rational Emotive
Therapies offered at Lutheran Hospi--, Southpointe Hospital, that is.)

Dr. K and I had a good long session, and it didn't seem that he had a
lot of people coming that day.  He did not seem to mind that we may have
spent more than an hour together.

Last night, I stayed up almost all night.  "Let me guess... on the com-
puter!" my friend Lucrecia said to me drolly.  "Yup."  I also think I
had forgotten all day yesterday to take the medication that Dr. Krojanker
currently has me on, Effexor.  So felt kinda funny today.  Tonight, Lu-
crecia had an appointment with me to have dinner and to take me to a
concert done by Jon Thomas and friends.  Jon plays the double bass; he and
friends make up a little jazz band that I hear is excellent.  I don't know,
however, because after dinner, during the reception hour before the con-
cert, I decided I could take no more of the noisy crowd in that
upper room of the Sheldon Concert Hall.  Told Lucrecia that I would ex-
cuse myself then, and go home, not feeling incredibly well.  She under-
stood, and was aware I might not stay for the whole thing.  So she let
me go, and said she would catch a ride home with someone else.

So I got home, and went for bed.  Perhaps feeling a little shakey.  
Twinkie was already up there, and she purred when she saw me.  Scamper
soon joined and both cats layed there on the bed beside me.  Twinkie
came up and curled up next to my arm, while I was reading the PC World
magazine, which I finished.  Then I picked up the _Searching_for_God_in_
America_ book that (I think Gwen) gave me for my 40th birthday.  Con-
tinued reading the interview of Rabbi Harold Kushner.  It was fascina-
ting and very thought-provoking.  Wonder if there is a way to get tapes
of that series that showed on PBS 2-3 years ago?  I would love to have
the tape of that interview, and share it with some friends.

Maybe one day I will have to break down and buy a new television, and
a VCR.  Or combination.

Anyway, God.  Although I have not done an incredible amount of things in
the past fews days, weeks, or even months, it doesn't mean I have not 
been busy, or thinking, or growing.  Just slowly.  Letting the pain
(and maybe even fear?) die down from the job loss.  Last Friday (Good
Friday, April 13th), incidentally, was my last day as an employee on
leave at Ciber.  With Lucrecia's help, I bought a flowering plant to
give to the Ciber people, especially Amy Crane.  I hope they will ap-
preciate it and take good care of it.  As I told Dr. Krojanker, I feel
relieved that that relationship is now over, at least for now.  There
now is a sense of less obligation to them.  But now I will have to 
start paying my own insurance (under COBRA rules); and it may not be
cheap.  $600 per month??  $7,200 per year??  Heavens!

Dr. Krojanker suggests that rahter than having a relapse the next time
I get a job, that I ought to have a pro-lapse.  Instead of falling
flat on my back when situations arise, perhaps I can fall, but fall
forward.  I told Dr. K. that whatever job I take -- wherever I go, 
there I am, and it will be the same person reactive to whatever stressors
happen on the job.  Dr. K. disagreed.  Which was when he brought up 
the idea of prolapsing.  He does feel I have been growing.

My friend Angelo expressed interest in attending one of the Rational
Emotional Therapies.  There will be another one, I believe this next
Monday.  Perhaps I should invite him.  I don't think Dr. Krojanker 
would mind.

But I don't know.  Will have to wait and pray on its appropriateness,
both for me, for Angelo, and for the group.  God, only You know, so I look
to You for guidance on this matter.

God, thank you for Being.

					Love,

					David