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Just to take Him at his word.

My lovin' man is on the second juicer of the year. He's tearing it up with this juicing. I was wary at first but now he brings me extra large glasses of unidentifiable juice each morning. Sometimes, it has a sweet flavor and pulpy consistency. Sometimes, it has a nutty flavor and creamy consistency. Sometimes, it's berry flavored with flax seed. Mostly, I enjoy it and am pleased with the benefits of a clean, nutrient rich breakfast. Sometimes, I don't care for it but consider the medicinal benefits because it still beats castor oil and junk.

This day, it was hot, spicy and gingery in an effort to stave off a funky virus sneaking up on us. It was a medicinal day.

I'm blissfully ignorant as to what he puts in these juice concoctions although I am noting strange new shapes in the form of produce appearing in my fridge. I just drink them as they appear in my cup, trusting that he and his Jack Lalanne have it under control.

My Beautiful Daughter, allergic to penicillin and suffering from recurrent infections, is wary yet.

I attempt to figure out why.

Maybe she's stubborn or settling in her own ways. Or she's just cozy enough to not recognize the difference. Maybe she's fearful. Or faithless, when it comes to the unknown.

Maybe she's panicked at the thought of experiencing unpleasantness so she resists and refuses to recognize that he knows better than her what she needs and that Need supersedes Want and Faith cancels out Fear and the only thing between her and wholeness is Herself.

Still, he's there patiently, handily, waiting with the cure she craves but doesn't yet recognize.

After all the pushing and pulling and screaming and shouting is past, I trust she'll see and finally accept peace in whatever shape it takes.

So we can all relax.


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