January 13, 2007 | Papa Smith

Priceless Green Snot

Its sitting right there on my shirt, and in about forty minutes it will be less than impressive. It will have dried up, and become more like a chalky layer infused into the soft cotton of my favorite otsu t-shirt.

It is snot, the kind that runs from a smallish nose of the “highly cute” sort. It is the snot of my son. It happens to be worth a great deal, and NO, I will not sell it to you! You may plead with me…

“Matthew, its just snot, just sell me some, just a bit, just a little corner…”

But I will not break. Back off you mongrel horde! This snot is mine! I claim it. It is mine because it is the only gift my son has to offer me tonight. He has only his need of me, and no one, can purchase away such a thing.

Amy’s downtown visiting her friend April with another friend Mary and her new hubs, Brian. I hope she’s having enough fun to forget for just a few moments, all her responsibilities.

God leaving me these crumbs of surprise. These little bites yank me from myself, from thinking how pissed off I am that Brighton is sick and won’t sleep well, into the puzzled realization that Jesus is in the snot of a virus soaked 17 month old boy.

Do you ever feel like you’ve spent most of your life trying to find God in the best ideas of the world, when all the while he was right there in the barren cry of a helpless kid.

“Love is not a victory march; it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah.”

- Leonard Cohen