Which Reminds Me

I am wondering whatever happened to that old notebook that I used for a diary in high school. I have not been able to find it for quite a few years now. It is frightening to think that all of my words of adolescent angst could be out there twisting in the wind. No one other than myself is entitled to read the half-baked ramblings of my high school diary, all that stuff about how the greatest calling in life would be to serve the Lord and everything is for the glory of God and blah blah bah. I cannot have some ignorant Catholic reading that stuff and deciding that I should be a nun. Wrong! I am a Protestant so in order to have a ministry I would first need to get married and have a family but that never happened so I cannot have a ministry of the sort earlier envisioned. And if the workers of the vineyard would kill a son to make the vineyard their own, would they not also kill a daughter? Sure, Alan Skogerbo was trying to pose as a martyr because of he preferred to have a children's ministry and not get married, but nobody was saying that couldn't happen. We tend to believe that the authorities had a good reason for reprimanding him, that there was probably some other problem there not full explained and not really our business. And will not the Lord himself also rebuke the children's workers, and not because of anything that I said. Their own murderous intentions and seething hatred toward me speak for themselves. I don't have to say anything about that. I myself am a joint heir with Jesus even if the technicalities of the present day may prevent licensing, but anyway, whatever.