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RUST ON MY SOUL (A Novel) (Published by Bridge Press in 1985 & Distributed Internationally)
INTRODUCTION (Repeated for those new to the series)
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In an old loose leaf notebook, Thomas Kettering wrote when there was a cry from his heart. He wrote when his inner longing spilled over into the reality of his days. He did not write every day, only when he felt he must. How often he wrote or when is not important. The journey is what counts, for it is a diary about all of us, to all of us. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” and even a stumble is a step.
RUST ON MY SOUL (A Novel) (Published by Bridge Press in 1985 & Distributed Internationally)
INTRODUCTION (Repeated for those new to the series)
*************************
In an old loose leaf notebook, Thomas Kettering wrote when there was a cry from his heart. He wrote when his inner longing spilled over into the reality of his days. He did not write every day, only when he felt he must. How often he wrote or when is not important. The journey is what counts, for it is a diary about all of us, to all of us. “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” and even a stumble is a step.
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Afternoon
I just finished a month of ushering and taking up the collection. What the preacher talked about in his sermons I’ll never know. We always take the money to the office to be counted before the service is over.
And what pikers! I hope most of the members love their Lord more than their giving indicates. I read somewhere recently that last year Americans spent almost thirty five billion dollars on liquor alone.
Obviously, many think more of their bonded spirits than the Holy Spirit.
And pornography – sometimes I think we are a community of clean sheets and dirty minds.
I’m sick of me, but not sick enough to do anything about it, yet. Maybe one of these days, I will. Maybe someday I’ll treat the cross like something more than a decoration. Maybe the sun will stop in mid-sky, too.
Evening
Some quiet inside. That’s what I want. Outside you can find it at three A.M. I’ve done that.
But inside, where my guts are tied in knots and my mind races a thousand miles an hour in a hundred different directions, there isn’t any. Why? Where? How?
Afternoon
We put on such a flashy front. Most everyone I know buys more than they can afford because we’re told we need it. I can’t stand my job. I’d like to go back to doing what I really like, but I probably won’t. I’m locked into the rat race because I’ve become addicted to the cheese.
The speaker at today’s luncheon came out of the ghetto and he spent thirty minutes trying to make us understand what it was like.
I found my mind wandering; I couldn’t stop thinking about the office that, that rattle in my new car, the economy. Was he really that bad a speaker or could it be I just don’t care?
I wonder how many others had the same reaction. Sorry commentary on mankind.
Evening
I drove angrily this evening. It’s a wonder I didn’t participate in a collision. I’d already collided with the tax auditor.
“I just want proof, Mr. Kettering, that you gave that much to the church. Otherwise, it will be disallowed,” he said implacably.
Where does he got off, questioning m return, that smug little smile rubber-stamped to his bureaucratic face.
“If I say I gave it, I gave it!”
He never really answered, just moved on to other questions. I had lied, of course. Doesn’t everyone?
I’m not going to buy bombs or underwrite waste if I can help it. Besides, what the government doesn’t get, I keep. It’s an arrangement I can live with quite nicely.
TO BE CONTINUED
Afternoon
I just finished a month of ushering and taking up the collection. What the preacher talked about in his sermons I’ll never know. We always take the money to the office to be counted before the service is over.
And what pikers! I hope most of the members love their Lord more than their giving indicates. I read somewhere recently that last year Americans spent almost thirty five billion dollars on liquor alone.
Obviously, many think more of their bonded spirits than the Holy Spirit.
And pornography – sometimes I think we are a community of clean sheets and dirty minds.
I’m sick of me, but not sick enough to do anything about it, yet. Maybe one of these days, I will. Maybe someday I’ll treat the cross like something more than a decoration. Maybe the sun will stop in mid-sky, too.
Evening
Some quiet inside. That’s what I want. Outside you can find it at three A.M. I’ve done that.
But inside, where my guts are tied in knots and my mind races a thousand miles an hour in a hundred different directions, there isn’t any. Why? Where? How?
Afternoon
We put on such a flashy front. Most everyone I know buys more than they can afford because we’re told we need it. I can’t stand my job. I’d like to go back to doing what I really like, but I probably won’t. I’m locked into the rat race because I’ve become addicted to the cheese.
The speaker at today’s luncheon came out of the ghetto and he spent thirty minutes trying to make us understand what it was like.
I found my mind wandering; I couldn’t stop thinking about the office that, that rattle in my new car, the economy. Was he really that bad a speaker or could it be I just don’t care?
I wonder how many others had the same reaction. Sorry commentary on mankind.
Evening
I drove angrily this evening. It’s a wonder I didn’t participate in a collision. I’d already collided with the tax auditor.
“I just want proof, Mr. Kettering, that you gave that much to the church. Otherwise, it will be disallowed,” he said implacably.
Where does he got off, questioning m return, that smug little smile rubber-stamped to his bureaucratic face.
“If I say I gave it, I gave it!”
He never really answered, just moved on to other questions. I had lied, of course. Doesn’t everyone?
I’m not going to buy bombs or underwrite waste if I can help it. Besides, what the government doesn’t get, I keep. It’s an arrangement I can live with quite nicely.
TO BE CONTINUED
(Complete book available on amazon.com) (great prices)
Neil is also the author of THE SPIRITUAL ABRAHAM LINCOLN (His last book)
Neil is also the author of THE SPIRITUAL ABRAHAM LINCOLN (His last book)
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20TH CENTURY (Written as if Ben Franklin had come back to life in the 20th
Century and wrote yet another Almanac)
Three of Neil’s books are still available on amazon.com. THE SPIRITUAL ABRAHAM LINCOLN, RUST ON MY SOUL and POOR RICHARD’S ALMANACK FOR THE 20TH CENTURY (Written as if Ben Franklin had come back to life in the 20th Century and wrote yet another Almanac)
HIS 9TH BOOK “THE SPIRITUAL ABRAHAM LINCOLN” IS AVAILABLE ON Amazon.com KINDLE Reader
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