You did not steal my soul

To the guy who stole my phone off the toilet paper holder in the bathroom at the Stillwater Public Library.  You lose.

At first I blamed myself.  Still do.  I will be more careful, for weeks, maybe months.  Maybe for always.  Probably months.

I then prayed for you, you know, “May God rub your nose in your guilt and cause bad crap to happen to you.”  Then I thought, you probably already have bad stuff happen, and worse, you think it’s normal.  I am sorry.  I retract the prayers!

I then remembered St. Paul’s audacious statement (Letter to Roman Church. 2:4) and thought to pray kindnesses to you.  Those kindnesses bring us to repent and turn from poop in our lives.  Hey, stealing is no sustainable lifestyle.  You can’t support someone you love and kids even if  you score a smart phone daily.  And you get caught sooner or later, and then she has no one to protect her and the kid(s).  That was you handing her the phone as I walked up and asked, wasn’t it?  She pocketed it and walked away as we talked.  You have her helping you do this stuff?  Think about that.  Be a man.  Don’t pin this poop on her like that.

So you cost me a few days with no phone.  Everyone made allowances.  New phone is here and downloaded (mostly) from the cloud.  So you showed me: yes, I carry it everywhere and use it a lot, but the &#*#&(&!! phone is not my soul.

Thank you.  I would have written sooner, but I thought to take the time to write a letter to someone I love when my phone was not intruding.

Maybe James was right: in all things give thanks.