Stardate 12.11.2025
Before I get too far into today’s message, I want to pause and thank those in my inner prayer circle. Your prayers have mattered more than you know.
While the details remain private, let’s just say the Grim Reaper was knocking on a loved one’s door — and it was far too close for comfort. The danger isn’t over, so if you’re the praying type, or even the good-thoughts-sending type, we would be grateful for your continued support.
There’s an elephant hiding in the magical forest of my family story — one that’s lingered across generations.
We don’t talk about him much. The topic is sensitive, and silence often feels safer. There’s an unspoken pact: don’t bring it up, don’t stir the dust, don’t cross the invisible line.
But ignoring him has consequences too. Maybe even more than speaking his name.
My dad fought demons for most of his life. The first one came neatly packaged in government-issued cigarette rations handed out to Marines in Korea. He grew fond of them, carried the habit home, and paired it with beer — a combination that looks harmless from the outside but can quietly take the wheel.
And of course, there’s that old joke from my teenage years:
“Why did God invent whiskey?”
“So the Irish wouldn’t rule the world.”
Everyone laughs, but behind the humor sits a reality that touches more homes than most people will ever admit — and not just Irish families.
Addiction is the elephant in many living rooms. And I’ve seen what happens when someone tries to chase it out alone. It doesn’t work. Not for long, anyway.
There’s a better way.
A way that begins with love.
A way that recognizes a power greater than ourselves.
A way that often includes a wise therapist, a supportive community, and the courage to look in the mirror and say, “Maybe the change begins with me.”
I’m learning that grace is the key.
Not judgment.
Not shame.
Not silence.
Grace.
If you’ve never had an elephant in your life, count your blessings — truly. And please resist the urge to shame those who do. You never know how heavy their battle has been.
As for me, the elephant still wanders my magical forest. Some days I see him; some days he stays invisible. And maybe that’s okay for now. Invisibility can keep the peace while healing does its slow, sacred work.
Thank you again for your prayers. They matter more than you know.
Captain’s Addendum
Spock: “Doctor, it appears the captain is addressing a large metaphorical creature that only some can perceive. Highly illogical.”
Bones: “For heaven’s sake, Spock, families always have elephants. Some folks have whole herds. Just because you can’t quantify it doesn’t mean it’s not real.”
Spock: “I do not deny its existence. I merely suggest the captain’s approach — grace — is the most efficient strategy for reducing emotional turbulence.”
Bones: “Well I’ll be… Did you just agree with me?”
Spock: “I stated a fact, Doctor. Your emotional satisfaction is irrelevant.”
Bones: “Keep telling yourself that, pointy ears.”
Michael’s Reflection:
The elephant may be big, loud, and stubborn, but grace has a way of softening its footsteps. The more I learn to offer compassion instead of condemnation — toward others and toward myself — the lighter the forest becomes.
Scripture for the Journey
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9
Thank you for spending part of your day here. May God meet you gently in whatever forest you’re walking through, and may He bless you with the courage to face what feels unspoken, unseen, or too heavy to name.
Carry this with you today — grace is stronger than any elephant.
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