Tuesday, November 6, 2012

A privilege, to say the least

Romans 13:1-7.

Forget Halloween, November is the month when one should be afraid. For whatever reason everything politically motivated happens in this month. More so if you're talking about politics of the West. I suspect it has to do with weather. EVERYTHING changes because of it. Think about it!

For the longest time, I never really cared who ran this or that because I selfishly thought, if it didn't directly affect me it wasn't my concern. But as early as I can remember folks have been telling me to vote. To participating in a mock election for the state senators in the first grade to the note that my APUSH teacher wrote in my senior yearbook about voting, I've seen my fair share of getting out the vote.

The older I get, the more I "understand" that the whole pandemonium behind these partisan politics is for good reason. I hear and read more and more stories and instances of folks not being able to or be allowed to vote. On the surface, it's not a big deal, but to echo the educators who've instructed me to do likewise, it kind of REALLY is a big deal. The old argument still stands; people have fought and died for us regular folks for the very right to vote. The least we can do to honor their sacrifice is to exercise the very privilege they suffered horrors for, spoken and unspoken.

Although one may be turned off by all the partisan bickering and the arguing over who knows how to do this or that best, I've realized that when all is said and done it brings me hope to know that all this is for a deep seated love for one's country. Anyone brave enough and strong enough to do this day in and day out AND not lose sight of this love is OK in my book.

On another note, I can gloat over the fact that I just happen to have voted in a swing state this year.

Regardless of who wins this or that, remember that He was in charge, is still in charge, and will continue to do so, world without end.

Monday, October 15, 2012

tears shed in church (ii)

I made a visit to dear ol' UVa in the last week of August to attend CCF Welcome Dinner and to see many wonderful folks, but more specifically my First Years who are now Fourth Years?!? Another post about that later. Tempus fugit, fo' real.

On my way to my many rendezvous with said folk, I stopped over by the Chapel.

I just happened to cross its path on the way to the Corner and it seemed to beckon me in with its wide opened door.

Visits to the Chapel occurred more times in my 4th Year than all my 4 years at the Grape. A lot of times it was just to sit and pray. Yes, He is everywhere, but in the crazy mess that is my mind I feel closer to Him in one of His houses.

2 years later, that day was still no exception. As I entered and sat down in the back row, I noticed I wasn't alone.

Way up front was a girl deep in prayer. I never once saw her face, but her gestures spoke volumes.

The Chapel is generally a very solemn and empty place, so it's pretty obvious when one sees a soul in there. But not once did she turn her head around to see who had come in.

I couldn't help but look a little. Why didn't she look up? Not that I was seeking attention but I would have if somebody came in. This girl was DEEP in prayer. The frequent shifting about in her seat, the occasional creaking of the pew she sat in, and her head always bowed down. After I finished my prayers, I sent some prayers her way and left.

Whether she cried or not, I don't know but it reminds me of a quote I've written about before:
Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.
- Plato

Paul also wrote something similar:
Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.
- Galatians 6:2
Let's be mindful and remember to do so. 

Saturday, September 8, 2012

"life" as I knew it

7 weeks. 49 days. 1176 hours. And on and on...

This is a gripe that can only be made in a first world country. For the above mentioned amount of time was the time I spent without any stable internet connection.

During that time, I took to Wifi as if it were cold water on a hot day. Free/borrowed Wifi was only for the important stuff. You know like checking my monies and the FB, of course.   

After spending such a "long" time of not being "connected", it occurred to me how much of my life is spent online. Emailing, instant messaging, banking, "working" on something, blogging, etc. etc. Even as I write this, I'm still trying to reestablish my weekly/monthly regimen of blogging.

This short nuisance was yet another reminder of how everything is ephemeral in comparison to the Everlasting.

I hope this isn't some recurring theme in my life...
 

Thursday, August 9, 2012

1270 miles

Matthew 6:19-21.

Matthew 6:25-34.

It's seems so long ago since the day of the accident. Writing about it now just seems forced, but here I go...

I had just left work. I traveled down a 2 lane road I've driven down numerous times with traffic going in both directions. It now just seems so crazy, but a car was coming towards me and I swerved to avoid it? I over-steered the wheel and in my panic hit the gas pedal thinking it was the brake and BOOOM.

My poor Renee took a NASTY gash to the right side. Save but a few scratches that tree stood unfazed. As I got out of the car to assess and stare at the damage I notice something else. A clear liquid was leaking quite profusely from underneath my car??? And by profusely, I mean TOO much. I thought it was gas and I knew for a fact that I didn't have but half a tank of gas in my car. From all that liquid that was coming out it couldn't possibly be gasoline, could it?

I kid you not, but as all this was going through my mind the following conversation with some passerby transgressed. And I do mean "transgressed":

Passerby: HEEEY! What's that leakin' out your car?

Me: I don't know!

Passerby: That might be gasoline. Call 911!

Me: (having lost my phone during the accident) I can't find my phone! Can you call for help?!?

Passerby: I don't got one! You better get away before that explodes. Call 911! (proceeds to run away from the scene)

End Scene.

In my panic stricken, annoyed, dazed, and many other adjectives state of mind, I went over and touched the leaking fluids and smelled it. H2 freaking O. I looked under Renee, I had hit a water main. As the water main continued to pour water onto the streets, I found my phone and made the calls.

After the towing of my car, the dealings with the police, the city workers, and the insurance I still had to deal with the tow truck company, the body shop, AND the car rental place. Tomorrow it'll be done, today I grieve. When tomorrow came, I grieved some more. As I went to collect my things from Renee I saw how bad the damage really was. It made a person feel all sorts of broken to see and feel what I felt. They said that pauvre Renee would be in the shop for a month. To rub more salt into the already festering wound all this happened 2 days before my birthday. Yay me.

In the months that followed, TOO much stuff and thoughts tripped me up because of the accident. I missed a WAAAY important meeting for work, caught more grief from friends, family, and co-workers alike, and had to deal with several agencies and the red tape that follows.

After the traffic court, the fines and fees, and all the worrying about Renee getting fixed and whatnot I realized and remembered this: 我還是活著.  

Despite everything that happened, I still live. What also took place in those months that followed the accident were; I made friends with the folks at my insurance, the rental place, and the body shop. I posed as an Ohioan and later as a Delawarean as I drove around the rental. Random perks, yes. But dear reader, this is not some post about me walking away from an accident as a new man. Far from it! Just writing to remind myself and the reader that life is just that crazy and I shout with great joy and acknowledge that He is not done with me yet! It just took 1200+ miles and countless dollars later to remember it.

Hallelujah!

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

got me where it hurts

Indigestion was the culprit.

If his writings wrote of reality, then Dante's third circle of hell would have a place reserved just for me.

My sins of eating too richly and greedily have caught up with me.

Following a night of EXCESSIVELY spicy food came a week of pain. For what seemed like an eternity, a pain in my upper abdomen would not go away. Every time I swallowed some food, my gut would hurt and then the pain would subside.

I toughed it out for a few days, but finally decided to go see a doctor about this. Besides, WebMD can only diagnose you but so much. Before I decided to go, I literally was terrified to eat. Dear reader, if you know me personally, then you know that for me to NOT eat is a hell in itself.

So, I went. The good doctor thought it might be gallstones, but needed some tests done to be sure.  Run 'em, I said. Better to be 100 percent sure than wondering about it forever.

On about the 6th day the pain stopped all of a sudden. Question mark? Do gallstones disappear like that? Around the time the pain went away the results came back. Everything was normal. Hallelujah?!?

At that point I could not for the life of me why it was normal. After some conversations with some folks later, we decided that it was REALLY bad indigestion.

Dear God,

Thank You for reminding me to be mindful of my gluttony and how you use these health scares to scare me straight. Thanks.

Grateful,
this repenting glutton

p.s. Blazin' flavored hot sauce, nevermore!  

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Oreos

Oreo celebrates its centennial today.

I'm hype, but it's too late to celebrate with the real deal.

SO, tomorrow I'm having an Oreo party. Maybe eat 100 Oreos???

Happy 100th!

prediction?

Just a thought.

I can see myself becoming one of those crazy professor types. The ones with a library stacked from ceiling to floor with books on books on books on books.

Papers and journals strewn here and there in a study with a huge globe in the corner. Said globe would be hollow and filled with PLENTY of chocolate hidden inside.

Sitting by my side is a dog with a noble sounding name. OR, a house full of cats with each name more funkier than the last.

At the rate I'm going, I'm banking on the latter.

p.s. 7 cats. I see it.